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The Adventure of Living by Paul Tournier

Mar17

Once upon a time when I was in high school, back in the dark ages, I had a friend and mentor who was a big fan of the work of Swiss physician and counselor Paul Tournier. Tournier, who lived and wrote during the 1960’s and 70’s, was a Christian author who advocated for what he called “medicine of the person”, treatment of the whole person, mind, body, and spirit or soul. His most famous and influential book was The Meaning of Persons, published in 1954.

I had not visited with Dr. Tournier since those high school days, but I remembered him as wise Christian counselor, even if his work was a bit over my head at the time I was introduced to it. So, when I saw The Adventure of Living on the used books sale shelf at my local library, I decided to give it a try. It was an especially appropriate read for me now since my word for the year is “venture” or “adventure.” I’ve been trying to live my days as adventures and to venture out beyond my self-imposed limits this year.

I found The Adventure of Living to be helpful and inspiring in my adventurous year. Modern author and psychologist Jordan Peterson has a lot to say about adventure and our need for adventure in our lives, and Tournier reminds me of Peterson at times, except that Tournier is more Christian and a little less esoteric than Jordan can be. In the first chapter of the book, called “An Instinct Peculiar to Man,” Tournier writes, “I should like to depict as I see it the great impulse toward adventure which is peculiar to man . . . ” and later, “Woe betide those, who no longer feel thrilled at anything, who have stopped looking for adventure.”

He goes on to write about what adventures actually are, how they begin, and how they die, creating the need for a new adventure. And using examples from his own counseling and pastoral care practice, Tournier illustrates the risks of taking the adventures that life places before us, the choices we make about how to react to both success and failure, when to follow a new adventure, and how to know which adventure to choose. He writes with wisdom and balance about prayer and meditation and how to experience and know God’s guidance in our small adventures and in the Big Adventure of Life itself.

I suppose The Adventure of Living could be classified as a “self help” or “Christian living” book, but I think it delves deeper than most such books tend to go. It was written before the advent of the 21st century tendency that we have to label and medicate every problem, spiritual or mental. And the advice and exposition of the subject come from a European Christian perspective, but the book speaks to anyone with a Western cultural background, even secular nonbelievers and those of a different religion. I don’t tend to enjoy the self-help or Christian living genres, but I did find this sixty year old book to be absorbing and useful. Mr. Tournier still has a lot to say to our somewhat jaded and over-psychologized age.

I’ll leave you with a couple of quotes that I copied into my commonplace journal just for a sample and a bit of adventurous inspiration:

“What matters is to listen to Him, to let ourselves be guided, to face up to the adventure to which He calls us, with all its risks. Life is an adventure, directed by God.”

“[T]he excitement of adventure rescues us from the sea of introspection that drowns many of those who hesitate. The more they examine themselves the less they act. The less they act, the less clearly do they see what to do. In vain do they interrogate even God on what they ought to do; rarely do they receive any reply. God guides us when we are on the way, not when we are standing still, just as one cannot steer a car unless it is moving.”

Jella Lepman and Her Library of Dreams by Katherine Paterson and Sally Deng.

Mar8

Paterson, Katherine. Jella Lepman and Her Library of Dreams: The Woman Who Rescued a Generation of Children and Founded the World’s Largest Children’s Library. Illustrated by Sally Deng. Chronicle Books, 2025.

I’ve never heard of Jella Lepman, and even though I’ve been in the children’s library world for a long time, I am only cursorily familiar with IBBY, the International Board on Books for Young People, and the International Youth Library in Munich, the world’s largest library for children’s literature. Nevertheless, since I love children’s books and own a library full of them, of course I was drawn to this true story of a German Jewish woman who fled Germany before World War II and came back to bring “nourishment for the soul” to the German children after the war.

“It was obvious that the children of Germany whom Jella had come home to help were in desperate of food, of clothing, of safe shelter. Elly Heuss-Knapp, whose husband later became president of West Germany, told Jella that while soup kitchens and care packages were all good and necessary, ‘nourishment for the soul’ was even more important.”

So, Jella Lepman, who was under contract to work with the U.S. army of occupation in Germany with the title of Advisor for WOmen’s and Youth Affairs, became the originator and spokesperson for gathering, translating, publishing, and providing books for the impoverished German children who, after all, weren’t responsible for the war and for Naziism. She began with an International Exhibition of Children’s Books, an affair for which she had to obtain all of the books free of charge from libraries and donors and publishers all over the world. There was no funding for such an exhibition.

Then, Jella had to find a suitable place to hold the exhibition and get volunteers to help clean and ready the building for a book show. The books came form all over the world–from countries that had been enemies of Germany until recently, and the exhibition opened on July 5, 1946. German publishers, authors, parents, and children were welcomed into the exhibition, and Jella soon began her next project of finding a permanent place to house a library for the many books she had collected.

The remainder of the book tells about the library that Jella Lepman began with the help of such luminaries as German children’s author Erich Kastner, Eleanor Roosevelt, and the Rockefeller Foundation, as well as many volunteers and donors from all over the world, but especially the United States. The library was and is located in a castle, and it made me a bit jealous. All of that room! They even had an art studio where children could paint and draw, inspired by stories read aloud.

Katherine Paterson is a distinguished author in her own right, winner of two Newbery Medals, the Astrid Lindgren Memorial Award, and the Hans Christian Andersen Award. The Andersen Award is administered by IBBY, the international organization that Jella Lepman helped start. This biography of Jella Lepman at first glance looks like a picture book. It’s picture book size, and illustrated with lovely charcoal(?), chalk (?), and watercolor drawings interspersed with photos of Lepman and her colleagues and the places where she lived and worked. So, sort of a picture book, but the text is written for middle grades and older. And the entire book is 105 pages long. So, it’s not a picture book for preschool and primary audiences.

I enjoyed reading about Ms. Lepman and her work with the library and IBBy in post-war Germany. The biography would give children and adults quite a bit of insight into the time period as well as reminding us all of the importance of books as food for the soul. It reminded me of me of the work that the 21st Century Packhorse Librarians are doing in South Carolina and neighboring states and of the work that private living books lending libraries and librarians continue to do daily.

The Three Brothers of Ur by J.G. Fyson

Mar8

Fyson, J.G. The Three Brothers of Ur. Illustrated by Victor G. Ambrus. Coward-McCann, 1966.

Version 1.0.0

Published in 1964 in England and honored as runner-up for the British Carnegie Medal, The Three Brothers of Ur is set in ancient Ur, a city that is mentioned three times in the book of Genesis as the city of origin for the patriarch Abraham. Abraham’s two brothers, also named in Genesis, were Nahor and Haran. This is important because the three brothers of the title are Haran, the youngest, Naychor, the middle son, and Shamashazir, the eldest, heir to his father Teresh the Stern, a wealthy merchant of Ur. Despite the differences in the names, it is obvious to anyone who knows the Bible that these three brothers of Ur in the book are meant to be the three Biblical brothers who play an important part in Biblical history.

As far as I can tell, Ms. Fyson (an author about whom not much is known), seems to have done her research in regards to life in ancient Sumer/Mesopotamia. The city is made up of Sumerians and Akkadians who manage to get along with only occasional tensions between the two groups. Their religion centers on the worship of the Dingir of the Moon, Nannar, who is the patron god of the city of Ur, worshipped on the ziggurat (pyramid temple), but also the associated worship of family gods called “Teraphim” who speak to the family, give guidance, and ward off the evil dingirs (spirits) that also inhabit the city. The economy of the city is based upon craftsmanship and trade. Slavery is also practiced and portrayed in the book in the person of Uz, an enslaved donkey boy who wishes to become an artisan and sculptor of images.

The story focuses on Haran, the youngest son of Teresh, who is full of mischief and audacity. As Haran gets into one scrape after another, we get to see many aspects of what can be imagined about life in a Mesopotamian city in pre-2000 B.C. Ten year old Haran is a sometimes truant school boy who finds it difficult to learn all of the Sumerian characters for writing. His father, Teresh, is an autocratic ruler of the household whose word is law. The place of women in the society of those ancient times is limited, and yet the girls in the story–Haran’s sisters, Sarah and Dinah, in particular–are bright and interesting in their own right. The protagonist of the book is Haran, but Shamashazir, Haran’s fourteen year old brother, is the one who is beginning to grope his way toward the idea of a transcendent God, more powerful and relatable than the dingirs and the teraphim that his people and his family worship.

Children who read this story, or have it read aloud to them, will enjoy the exploits and misfortunes of Haran, who is a typical rascal of a boy, but with a good heart. Adults will be more aware of the religious journey that Shamashazir and his family embark upon in this book, and which is carried further, I am told, in the sequel called The Journey of the Eldest Son.

The Three Brothers of Ur was somewhat difficult to find in an affordable hard cover edition, and the sequel is even more rare and expensive. Nevertheless, I hope to find and read a copy of The Journey of the Eldest Son soon so that I can experience “the rest of the story.” You may be able to find a copy of either or both of these in a library near you, and Meriadoc Homeschool Library now has a beautiful copy of The Three Brothers of Ur available for check out.

The First State of Being by Erin Entrada Kelly

Feb24

Kelly, Erin Entrada. The First State of Being. Greenwillow Books, 2024.

Newbery Medal winner for 2024 and National Book Award finalist. Erin Entrada Kelly’s science fiction story, set in the final days of the twentieth century (1999), tells about Michael, who’s worried about the future, meeting with Ridge, who comes from the future (2199) via time travel. Theories of how time travel works and what consequences it might have swirl and intersect, enough to make the reader’s swim. But time travel itself isn’t the focus of the novel. Instead it’s a book about learning to live in the present rather than being anxious about the future or trying to change the past.

“Michael smiled and joined her on the couch. ‘How was work?’ he asked.

She smelled like the restaurant, but Michael didn’t mind. If his mother was home, he was happy, even if she smelled like chimichangas.

‘I took every breath,’ she said. It was what she always said. I took every breath. In other words: if she was still here, still breathing, it was a good day, and she was thankful for it.”

The love and wisdom embodied in that quote from the beginning of the book are the best parts of the story. Thirteen year old Michael and his mother have a close and loving relationship. They take care of one another. Michael is a good kid, somewhat anxious and over-concerned about the future, Y2K in particular. His only friends at the beginning of the story are his sixteen year old babysitter, Gibby, on whom he has an innocent crush, and his apartment building janitor and handyman, Mr. Mosely, a kind old soul who takes a special interest in Michael.

I wanted to like Michael, and I did. I even forgave him for stealing canned goods from the local supermarket to add to his Y2K stash in the opening scenes of the novel. Michael is just trying to take care of himself and his mother–in case Y2K really is the disaster that many are predicting. But I wanted him to realize by the end of the novel that theft is wrong, no matter how good your intentions are. And he doesn’t, really. He decides that he has become a thief, and that he is much too anxious about a future he can’t control, but his “repentance” takes the form of surrepticiously donating his stash to the local food bank.

I don’t want to be picky, but this scenario of repentance without confession and restitution reinforces the common and fallacious idea that stealing from a store or large business isn’t really like stealing from a person. The store will be O.K. They won’t miss whatever you took. Michael feels guilty because he hasn’t been the best person he can be, not because he’s taken something that belongs to someone else. I want someone in this story to tell him that he owes the owner of the grocery store an apology and restitution.

Ridge, the boy from the future, has made a mistake, too, and although he regrets his action of using his mother’s untested “time machine”, he never really experiences guilt or asks for forgiveness. Maybe it’s all a part of the theme of living in the present and not worrying about the future or spending time time regretting past actions.

Anyway, it’s a good story with fun cultural references to the late twentieth century (Red Hot Chili Peppers, hanging out at the mall, KB Toys, etc.), but the ethics are somewhat mixed. I like the idea of living in the present and not worrying about the future, but stealing is an offense against an individual and needs to be resolved by repentance and restitution to the wronged party, if possible. If you read this one with a child, these are topics ripe for discussion.

Ode to Grapefruit by Kari Lavelle

Jan25

Lavelle, Kari. Ode to Grapefruit: How James Earl Jones Found His Voice. Illustrated by Bryan Collier. Alfred A. Knopf, 2024.

The things you can learn from picture books! I had no idea that James Earl Jones/Darth Vader was a stutterer. Ode to a Grapefruit by speech pathologist Kari Lavelle tells the story of Mr. Jones’ childhood and young adulthood and his struggles in learning to work with and through his stuttering.

James Earl Jones grew up in Michigan, and according to this picture book biography, he felt such shame and fear about his stuttering that he decided to remain silent in public for the first eight years of his school career. In high school, James Earl, who never received speech therapy as a child, found something that helped him to speak: poetry. The rhythm and cadence of poetry and memorized lines in plays made it easier for James Earl to speak clearly and fluently. With encouragement from a teacher mentor, James Earl began to speak in class and on stage, and he learned to use his resonant voice and overcome his stutter. Even so, he still considered himself a stutterer as an adult, with occasional lapses in fluency.

I had a good friend in college, Gail, who was a stutterer. Gail taught me a lot about stuttering and how it works and how speech therapists teach people to deal with stuttering. This book felt true to what Gail experienced and what she told me long ago about her journey with stuttering. As I was reading the book, I noticed that not much has changed in regard to the advice that is given to people who stutter and to their family and friends.

To those who stutter: “There are no miracle cures for stuttering. But there are many ways to help people who stutter.” To friends: “Be kind. Be patient. Listen to their message. Don’t try to offer word suggestions if they get stuck.”

And what do stuttering and James Earl Jones have to do with grapefruit? Well, that’s something you’ll have to read about in the book. This biography was published in 2024, and James Earl Jones died in September, 2024. It couldn’t have been planned, but the coincidental publication of the book in the same year of Mr. Jones’ death seems like a fitting tribute to the great actor with a great voice.

The House Before Falling Into the Sea by Ann Suk Wang

Jan18

Wang, Ann Suk. The House Before Falling Into the Sea. Illustrated by Hanna Cha. Dial Books for Young Readers, 2024.

This picture book, based on the true experiences of the author’s mother and the illustrator’s grandmother, tells about a seven year girl living in Busan, South Korea, during the Korean War (1950-1953). Kyung, the little girl, sees her family welcome many refugees, both strangers and relatives, into their home near the seashore. Kyung gradually learns through the example and words of her parents that their hospitality in “the house before falling into the sea” is a gift to the refugees but also to Kyung and her family.

When Kyung wishes for things to go back to the way they used to be with no noisy visitors and scary sirens, Kyung’s mother tells her:

“Kyung. Our visitors are not stones we can toss to the sea. They are people, our neighbors, to help and to love.”

And one of the refugees, Mr. Kim, tells Kyung:

“Kyung, do you know why I called your home ‘the house before falling into the sea’? Because without your umma and Appa opening your doors to us, we would have had no other place to go. Soldiers might have chased us farther, until we fell into the sea. Being here with you, safe, is a gift that Sunhee and I will never forget.”

The story reminds one of the story Jesus told of the Good Samaritan, and that affinity is reinforced by the “Questions to Consider” given in the end notes. “How do you define neighbor? Who are your neighbors? What have you learned from a friend? What have you taught a friend? How can you show kindness to others?”

These questions are, of course, optional. Use them or not as you see fit. I would tend toward letting the children with whom I was reading this book ask me their own questions, and there might very well be some questions about Korean words used in the story, about war in general and the Korean War in particular, and about the hospitality and care that Kyung’s family shows to the refugees. There’s a glossary in the back for the Korean terms, and a note about the author’s and the illustrator’s family stories of living through the war.

Recommended for children of Korean heritage, for those who are studying the Korean War and the general time period of the 1950’s, and for children of any background who have questions about war and refugees. It would also be a lovely story to read in conjunction with the parable of the Good Samaritan. Just read it and let the children make their own connections.

Gifts from the Garbage Truck by Andrew Larsen

Jan16

Gifts from the Garbage Truck: A True Story About the Things We (Don’t) Throw Away by Andrew Larsen. Foreword by Nelson Molina. Illustrated by Oriol Vidal. Sourcebooks, 2024.

I have mixed feelings about this picture book biography of sanitation worker, Nelson Molina, a collector of throwaway items. I liked the basic story of Mr. Molina and his Treasures in the Trash Museum. Stories about ordinary people who have extraordinary hobbies and adventures are the best. The letter at the beginning of the book, written by Nelson Molina himself, was great. In fact, that letter, in which Mr. Molina tells about how he came to be a collector, reuser, recycler, and up-cycler of other people’s trash, could have been a much better text for the picture book.

Instead, author Andrew Larson retells Nelson Molina’s story, and the text is rather pedestrian. In addition, the illustrations are flat and uninteresting.

“Nelson Molina collected things. He collected all kinds of things.”

“Nelson brought the objects he found back to the sanitation garage. He displayed them in the locker room so everyone at work could see them. There were toys and teapots. Yo-yos and photos. There were knick-knacks and thingamajigs and whatchamacallits. People throw away the most extraordinary things.”

Then, at the end of the story, someone decided to add a didactic and unnecessary information page that reiterates what the story has been telling us, in case we’re too dense to get it. The title is “The 4 R’s: Reduce, Reuse, Recycle, and Rethink”–with a definition and explanation for each “R” as well as ideas about how to up-cycle junk that’s headed for the garbage truck.

I was fascinated by Nelson Molina’s story of collecting, repairing, and recycling things from the New York City garbage. It reminded me a little bit of my work, rescuing books. But I wish Mr. Molina could have had a better picture book profile. And a few more photographs or pictures of the whatchamacallits and thingamajigs in the museum would have been nice. (There are a few photos in the back of the book.)

This picture book is worth checking out from the library just because of the story. But one time through the book should be enough for most kids and grownups, too.

Orris and Timble: The Beginning by Kate DiCamillo

Jan11

Kate diCamillo is one of my favorite contemporary authors, and she has had a great year. Ferris was probably my favorite middle grade novel of 2024, and now Orris and Timble:The Beginning is set to be my favorite new easy reader of 2024, and maybe my favorite series, if the other two books in the projected trilogy are as good as this first one.

“The old barn was abandoned. Only Orris lived there.” So the story begins. Orris is a rat, a solitary soul who has made a nest for himself and filled it with his favorite recycled treasures. He’s happy and seemingly self-satisfied.

But Orris is a rat with a conscience, personified in the picture of a king on a sardine can who looks Orris in the eye and reminds him to “make the good and noble choice.” And when a snowy owl, Timble, is caught in a trap and begs for help, Orris has a choice to make. Will he make the good and noble choice? Or will he stay safe in his own little nest and ignore the needs, and the danger, of the world outside?

This book, with short chapters, and very few words on each page, reminded me of the Frog and Toad books by Arnold Lobel. The story itself is simple and straightforward, a mirroring of the story of Androcles and the Lion, but there’s a subtext that speaks to adults as well as children. It’s a story and a subtext about friendship and adventure and choices and risk taking, but I won’t go much farther than that. You and your children can pull your own ideas and images from the book.

The illustrations by Carmen Mok are adequate, but not spectacular. The charm is in the story. The vocabulary in the book is not controlled, and the author uses some moderately difficult words. Early readers will gain confidence after sounding out words such as “windowsill” and “disappeared” and “butterscotch”. The story itself should carry readers who are beginning to enjoy chapter books right along to the ending, which is lovely in its “openendedness”.

“Orris?” says the owl.

“Yes?” says the rat.

“Are we friends?” says the owl.

“Yes, Timble,” says the rat after a long silence, “we’re friends.”

“But that’s not the end of the story,” says Timble.

“No,” says Orris, “it’s the beginning.”

The Contender by Robert Lipsyte

Jan10

Lipsyte, Robert. The Contender. Harper & Row, 1968.

Some bad ideas just keep coming back to haunt and hinder human flourishing all over again. In this book, published in 1967, Alfred Brooks, a black seventeen year old high school drop out who lives and works in Harlem, hears all the same taunts and race baiting remarks that are common on the internet nowadays.

“You just a slave,” sneered Major. “You was born a slave. You gonna die a slave.”

“You come on, Alfred,” said James softly. “Whitey been stealing from us for three hundred years. We just going to take some back.”

It’s the appeal to enslave oneself to bitterness and resentment that keeps coming back to capture impressionable young minds. Alfred, who lives with his aunt and her daughters in an apartment and works at a local Jewish-owned store, isn’t interested in the siren call of crime and drugs that his tormentors are offering and that his best friend James is yielding to. But Alfred doesn’t really know what he does want to pursue, what his true adventure might be, until he steps over the threshold of Donatelli’s Gym and commits himself to training to become a boxer.

The Contender is a book for older teens and adults, especially for those young men who are considering what it means to become a man. It’s about boxing and drug abuse and the temptations that come with racial hatred and poverty and aimlessness. But it’s mostly about coming of age through struggle and discipline and perseverance to find the person you want to become.

The novel is gritty for 1967. There’s the violence of the boxing ring and of the streets, and the desperation of heroin addiction (Alfred’s friend, James). The bullies, also black teens, who taunt and try to take revenge on Alfred for something he didn’t do, make use of the n-word twice to tell Alfred what a loser he is. But the words and the violence are there for a reason, and by today’s standards, they’re mild. No sexual content other than a few references to young men looking for Friday night girls to date.

Robert Lipsyte is a sports journalist as well as a writer of nonfiction sports biography and memoir and young adult fiction. He was awarded the American Library Association’s Margaret A. Edwards Award for his contribution to young adult literature in 2001. The citation for the award noted that, “The Contender and its sequels, The Brave and The Chief transformed the sports novel to authentic literature with their gritty depiction of the boxing world. An ongoing theme is the struggle of their protagonists to seek personal victory by their continuing efforts towards a better life despite defeats.”

I haven’t read The Brave or The Chief, but I did find The Contender to be thought-provoking. I know a young man who might get a lot out of the story if I could get him to read it. This book is available for check out from Meriadoc Homeschool Library.

Kadooboo by Shruthi Rao

Jan9

Kadooboo: A Silly South Indian Folktale by Shruthi Rao. Illustrated by Darshika Varma. Page Street Kids, 2024.

The word “silly” in the subtitle signals to the reader not to expect anything too profound from this adapted South Indian folktale, but the fact that it’s a folktale, passed down from grandmother to granddaughter, means that the story certainly has some significance and meaning. And it’s fun. Fun is not twaddle, and comedy is not useless. Therefore, classify this one as a humble living book.

Anya’s Appa (dad) is making kadooboo, “pouches of dough filled with sugar and grated coconut.” (Yes, there’s a recipe in the back of the book.) Anya’s friend Kabir is asked to take some home to his Amma (mom). As he runs home, hurrying to beat the impending rainstorm, Kabir collects other friends who come along to share the kadooboo and to get in out of the rain. But Kabir also becomes more and more confused about the name of the treat he is carrying. Is it bookoodoo? Dubookoo? Duckooboo?

This picture book just tells a sweet little story. Yes, silly, but the wordplay and the multiethnic cast of friends elevate the story into more than a simple misunderstanding or joke. The illustrations and the names of the children that Kabir meets show that this is set in South India where all kinds of ethnicities share the same Indian subcontinent, but there’s nothing in the story that preaches “diversity”. It’s just a show-and tell story with funny words that children will repeat and try to remember themselves. The pictured children remind me of Dora the Explorer, so it’s a colorful, 21st century sort of picture book.

This story would be perfect for reading aloud, but the read aloud-er might want to check the ending before attempting the final word in the story. And of course, the story cries out for some homemade kadooboo as an after-story time treat. The ingredients are not too exotic or hard to find, and the recipe instructions a fairly straightforward, although adult help and supervision is required (kadooboo pies are fried in oil).

“The story is a modern retelling of a South Indian folktale my grandmother used to tell me when I was a child. In the original story, a man eats kadooboo at a feast. He hurries home, excited to tell his wife about, and repeats the word over and over so as not to forget it. . . . The kadooboo in this story is a fried dumpling.” ~Author’s Note