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Bel Canto by Ann Patchett

A group of wealthy internationals in an unnamed South American country are captured by a group of inept and confused terrorists and held captive in the Vice-presidential mansion. Among the hostages is Mr. Hosokawa, a Japanese business tycoon who also happens to be an opera aficionado, and Roxane Coss, a famous and gifted opera diva. Gen is Mr. Hosokawa’s translator, and he becomes the interpreter for the entire group as the time of their captivity stretches from days to weeks into months.

The style of this novel reminded me of Gabriel Garcia Marquez, maybe because the setting is South America, and of Madeleine L’Engle, because the emphasis is on characterization and relationships rather than plot or theme. The way the characters develop in this story of imprisonment and passion and broken communication is really the focus of the novel.

Bel Canto is a tragedy. In fact, the author tells us from the beginning that things will not end well for the terrorists. Then, she proceeds to make her readers become attached to individuals among the hostage group and among the terrorist group, too. As the captors and captives become bonded to one another and as they communicate via music and through the interpreter, Gen, the reader slowly begins to want the interlude to continue, to want the prisoners to be able to stay removed from the world, to want the “freedom fighters” to be able to walk out truly free.

But, of course, it cannot be. Just as Osama bin Laden must have known that a violent death would find him eventually, the revolutionaries in the book, at least the leaders, know that they are doomed with no exit plan. Nevertheless, they and their hostages manage to live within the moment, outside of time so to speak, and over the course of the stand-off the people in the house form relationships that defy logic and reason.

I was quite impressed with this novel, and I can see why it was awarded both the Orange Prize for Fiction and PEN/Faulkner Award for Fiction.

Dave Welch interviews Ann Patchett at Powell’s Books.

Firefly Lane by Kristin Hannah

Someone, I can’t remember who, recommended this author to me. And I chose Firefly Lane to read because it looked to me as if it was her “break-out book,” the one that made her a best-selling author. I also found hat a lot of the book was set during the same time period when I grew up, so I was familiar with all of the pop culture references, and that fact made the reading a lot of fun for me.

Kate Mularkey and Tully Hart met in 1974 when the two girls were in eighth grade. (I was in eighth grade in 1970, so I’m only a few years older than these two friends.) The book chronicles the ups and down of their friendship over the years. Of course, their lives go in opposite directions, but they manage to stay friends through thick and thin. Well, almost. They remain friends until self-centered and impetuous Tully does something so outrageous and hurtful that Kate can’t bring herself to forgive or forget.

I’m pretty much with Kate on this one. I can’t believe that someone as insensitive as Tully is in the book would be able to sustain a friendship with anyone, or that anyone could be as understanding as Kate is throughout the book until the straw finally breaks the proverbial camel’s back. So my first question to you is a serious one: what would it take to break up a lifelong friendship? Do you have such a girlfriend relationship in your life? I don’t, and I’m sorry. I have some old friends that I’ve reconnected with via Facebook, but no one has been my “best friend” since high school or junior high or even college. I don’t really make friends easily, and even when I do, I have found that most of my close friendships have remained intense for several years until the two of us grew apart and moved on to other places and interests. If I really had a friend in my life who had been my close confidante since childhood, I suppose it would take a lot of betrayal to break that friendship. However, the stunt that Tully pulls in the book would do it. Curious?

Second question, which of these songs, Tully and Kate’s Soundtrack of Life, are songs that you recognize? For how many of them could you sing the lyrics from memory? I found this list at Kristin Hannah’s website, and I did think it was fun to revisit the musical past, both as I read and through this list.

Dancing Queen
Daydream Believer
Stairway to Heaven
Taking Care of Business
Goodbye Yellow Brick Road
–Elton John. One of my daughters really likes Elton John. I can’t decide if that’s good or disturbing
American Pie– Don Maclean. I once spent a goodly part of a summer analyzing the lyrics of this song with my friend, Julia.
Don’t Give Up on Us – David Soul. Wow, that’s a blast from the past. Does anyone remember David Soul as Hutch? Or even before that as one of the brothers along with Bobby Sherman on Here Come the Brides? I’m really dating myself, but my friend and I used to play Here Come the Brides and argue over who got to marry Bobby Sherman.
Thank God I’m a Country Boy – John Denver–I loved John Denver, and I can still listen to him if I’m in the right mood.
Shout!
Brick House
Twistin’ the Night Away
Louie, Louie Hate this song.
Here we start getting into the 80’s and the disco era, I’m guessing. I quit listening to pop music in about 1980.
Love is a Battlefield
Jessie’s Girl
Purple Rain– Prince
You Can’t Always Get What You Want– Rolling Stones. Everyone knows the Rolling Stones, even if they’re not to my taste.
Call Me– Blondie
Sweet Dreams (are made of this)
Do You Really Want to Hurt Me
Here Comes the Bride

Crazy for You– Madonna
I’m Every Woman– Whitney Houston
Hey Little Girl is Your Daddy Home– Springsteen
Desperado– Eagles This one seems out of place. Desperado is vintage 70’s, and the eagles were another favorite band of mine as a teen and as a college student. I can sing every word of this song.
A Moment Like This– Kelly Clarkson
Didn’t We Almost Have it All – Whitney Houston. I remember this one, but don’t know why.
Papa Don’t Preach– Madonna. No Madonna in my life ever, ever, ever.
Bohemian Rhapsody– Queen. I only know this song because my children were introduced to it via Glee.
Linda Ronstadt. Who didn’t listen to Linda Ronstadt back in the day?
You’ve Got a Friend James Taylor, of course. Sweet baby James. And Carly Simon. And Carole King. Those were the days.
One Sweet Day

In spite of some incidents in the book of sexual promiscuity (Tully, of course) that I could have done without, I liked the story well enough that I may try another of Ms. Hannah’s books someday. It’s chick lit, but not bad for a beach read or a spring fling.

After the Leaves Fall by Nicole Baart

I began to exist in a tension between wanting and not wanting–waiting for something I couldn’t even pin down in my most naked and honest moments. Waiting for a balance where I neither ached nor forgot, regretted nor accepted. Waiting for my heart to be light again yet fearing the implications of that same lightness. I suppose I waited for peace–an end to my own personal warfare. . . . Grandma and I stood hand in hand until the graveyard was empty and the rain had all but ceased to fall. Her lips moved faintly, and I knew she was whispering prayers for me. I couldn’t join her –I had forgotten how; the ability to pray had slipped out of my soul like the dirt had tumbled from my fingers. I wasn’t angry at God or anything–that would have been far too cliched. He just seemed irrelevant.

The narrator of this novel makes this self-observation in the aftermath of her father’s death, and in fact, our protagonist/narrator, Julia, is not only self-observant, but also somewhat self-absorbed. She has excuses: her mother was completely selfish and deserted the family emotionally long before she left them physically. Her beloved father dies after a long, painful illness at the beginning of the novel when Julia is only fifteen years old. Julia feels abandoned and rejected. However, she has a loving grandmother who picks up the slack and prays for her and teaches her to love God. So why is Julia such a mess?

She sees God as irrelevant. There’s an epidemic of that attitude going around. Is God irrelevant? Unconnected? Peripheral to my life and decisions at best? Sometimes I would have to admit that I, too, see God as an afterthought, or more accurately don’t see Him as central, vital, the source of all that makes life worthwhile.

By the end of the book, Julia has sown her wild oats, made some serious mistakes, looked for love in all the wrong places, and she’s in need of a God who loves and forgives and gives second chances. The resolution isn’t neat and tidy; Julia doesn’t have a Damascus road, five-star, turn-around conversion experience. It’s more as if the prodigal daughter comes home and realizes that her grandmother has always loved her and that God may not be so irrelevant after all.

The Brothers Karamazov by Feodor Dostoyevsky

40 Inspirational Classics for Lent

The Anchoress, Elizabeth Scalia, recommends it highly.

Sigmund Freud called it “the most magnificent novel ever written,” not that I’m sure Mr. Freud and I would be in much agreement as to other reading choices. On this one, I almost concur with his opinion. I only reserve first place on that list of novels for Les Miserables.

A copy of The Brothers Karamazov was found on the nightstand next to Tolstoy’s deathbed at the Astapovo railway station.

Shelley at Book Clutter says, “I feel like I need to make a little notebook just for quotes from this novel. I could easily pull together my own sermon now, and it would be pretty darn good.”

Sarah at A Library is a hospital for the mind says, “I count the reading of The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoevsky as one of my greatest literary accomplishments.”

Somerset Maugham placed The Brothers Karamazov on his list of the Top Ten Novels.

Noel Devries read it while traveling in Russia, and she says, “Dostoyevsky probes the heart.”

In my favorite TV series ever, LOST, while Ben (who was then claiming to be “Henry Gale”) was held captive in The Swan, Locke gave him The Brothers Karamazov for reading material. Ben responded, by asking “You don’t have any Stephen King?”

Eldest Daughter says, “Dostoevsky asks all the right questions and gives literature its most convincing and sympathetic good guy. I dare you to read it and not fall in love with Alyosha.”

And I just wish I could re-read The Brothers Karamazov, but too many books and too little time make that impossible, or at least unlikely right now. So why don’t you read it for me?

Kristin Lavransdatter by Sigrid Undset

40 Inspirational Classics for Lent

Yes, I’m including fiction, too, in this series of posts about recommended reading for Lenten learning and devotions. I learn a lot from fiction.

Because I have been so steeped in our own 20th/21st century cultural milieu and, of course, in stories with Hollywood endings, I truly thought that this novel of a medieval Norwegian teenage girl who “follows her heart” and marries the man who sweeps her off her feet (and also seduces her) would end in a happily ever after for the couple. Even though I know that’s not usually the ending in real life for that sort of beginning, I also have seen enough movies and read enough books in which following one’s emotions in disregard of parents, church, and community is rewarded.

Undset is more realistic than all of those Hollywood-influenced writers. Not that Kristin lives a completely horrid and pain-filled life after her youthful fall into sin and indiscretion; she doesn’t. She simply reaps what she has sown. Kristin chooses to marry an irresponsible but charming man, and as the two have a family and grow old together, her husband remains untrustworthy and quite attractive at the same time. Kristin remains both willful and desirous of spiritual riches. This combination makes for a life and marriage filled with joy at times, but also plagued by disaster and the consequences of poor choices.

I’m afraid that I’m not making this book sound good enough to induce you to pick it up and read it. The book is three volumes long, over a thousand pages, and it takes commitment to even begin such a hefty narrative. However, I believe you will be rewarded both intellectually and spiritually if you decide to read Kristin Lavransdatter. And I’m not the only one:

Mindy Withrow: “The internal seasons of Kristin’s soul change with the frozen winters and golden summers of Jorundgaard. Here Nunnally’s translation abilities stand out—clearly Undset gave her unparalleled material in the original Norwegian—with gorgeous word choices in soaring descriptions of natural beauty, descriptions that are never extraneous but always reflective of Kristin’s heart.”

Superfast Reader: “Despite the alienness of 13th Century feudal Norway, Undset’s books feel fresh, immediate, and alive, thanks to her depiction of Kristin, an exceptionally complex character.”

Word Lily: “One of my favorite aspects of this trilogy is how it is set so long ago and yet so many of the characters’ lessons are applicable to life today. The portrait the story paints of life in the Middle Ages both confirms and challenges my perception.”

Shelflove: “Kristin and her family step living from the pages, imperfect, stubborn, loving, exhausted, praying, scolding, laughing.”

Carrie at Mommy Brain: “While reading Kristin’s story, I learned so much about the religious customs of the day, about the way government and legal matters were handled, about the day to day life of a woman on an estate, about how children were raised, about how the plague devastated complete towns.”

Carol Magistramater: “I first heard of Kristin Lavransdatter reading a book list; I took note when Elisabeth Elliot named it her favorite novel.”

Also: A Striped Armchair, A Work in Progress, CaribousMom, New Century Reading.

And I’ve also written about this book before. So, if you haven’t read it, what are you waiting for? (I am told by very reliable sources that the Tina Nunnally translation is more complete, more literary, and more readable than the older translation by Charles Archer. Either way, it’s a great and valuable story.)

Edwardian, Turn of the Century and The Great War

I’ve been spending a lot of my time in the years 1890-1920 for the past week or two, via fiction, nonfiction, a couple of British period TV series, and my history class. It’s a fascinating time period. I’ll tell you what I’ve been watching and reading, and then I’ll try to share some of what it all made me ponder and put together in my mind.

Fiction:
She Walks in Beauty by Siri Mitchell. I’m not sure exactly when this novel is set, about 1890 or the turn of the century. I read this one because it won the INSPY award for historical fiction this last year. It’s about New York City debutante, Clara Carter, who becomes the leading belle of the season with a little help from her overbearing aunt and her rich, social climber father. Unfortunately, Clara wasn’t really the “spunky, defiant heroine” that we all love and tend to expect in these sorts of historical romances. She’s a seventeen year old girl who’s been indoctrinated to believe that her only worth lies in her ability to attract a rich husband and restore her family’s honor. As Clara makes her way through the balls, dinner parties, and social visits of her coming out season, she changes very little and allows cultural expectations to mold her and pressure her to become what she actually hates. Only a family tragedy forces her to come to her senses and begin to make decisions that will give her a chance to live a real, authentic life. (The Kindle edition of this one is showing as free right now. Definitely worth your time if you like historical romance.)
After the Dancing Days by Margaret Rostkowski. We read this YA novel for my English/History class at homeschool co-op. Annie is a thirteen year old girl living in a small town in Kansas at the end of World War I. As she begins to visit the returning soldiers at the veterans’ hospital where her father works as a doctor, Annie is at first repulsed and frightened by the severely injured men. However, she comes to be friends with them, one in particular, even though her mother is opposed to Annie’s hospital visits and wants her to forget about the war and its consequences.

Nonfiction:
Bold Spirit: Helga Estby’s Forgotten Walk Across Victorian America by Linda Lawrence Hunt. Semicolon review here. In this true story of a mother and daughter in 1896 who accepted a wager that saw them walk across the entire continent of North America, I found a couple of women who not afraid to strike out and do something unexpected and unacceptable to many of those in their community. Unfortunately for the two women, the book also tells how they paid a steep price in betrayal and social ostracism for their daring.
The Great Silence: Britain from the Shadow of the First World War to the Dawn of the Jazz Age by Juliet Nicolson. This book of social history covers the years 1918-1920 and tells lots of little stories, vignettes really, about people in Britain both great and small and their experiences in the aftermath of World War I. The book featured lots of fascinating people that I wish I had time to find out more about:
plastic surgeon Harold GIllies who repaired and reconstructed the faces of thousands of wounded WW I soldiers,
Joseph Enniver, inventor of Pelmanism, a secular program for strengthening of the mind and character,
nurse Edith Cavell, who helped two hundred allied soldiers escape to freedom in Belgium during the war before she was captured and executed by the Germans,
Coco Chanel, the greatest couturier of all time,
Nancy Astor, the American lady who became England’s first woman Member of Parliament, and many more. Look for a post of quotable stories from this book in the near future.

Television:
Lark Rise to Candleford. This series from the BBC is set in rural England just before the turn of the century, c.1895. The story is taken from a trilogy of semi-autobiographical novels by author Flora Thimpson. In the novels Ms. Thompson tells about her experience as a young girl getting a job in a post office and seeing the changes that were coming to England as a result of industrialization and the new modes of transportation and communication that were coming into use during the time period. Laura Timmins, the character through whose eyes we see the stories of village life and cultural transformation, is a village girl and as such, much more adaptable than some of the upper class young women in these stories. She’s able to become independent and see the world as one in which she can rise above her circumstances and become an intelligent voice while retaining her femininity and her place in the community.

Downton Abbey. While I was waiting for the DVD’s of the several episodes of Lark RIse to Candleford to get here in the mail, I began watching Downton Abbey, another period piece set in the years just before WW I, from the sinking of the Titanic in 1912 to the announcement that England was at war with Germany (1914). Downton Abbey is amazing in its deft characterization of both the upper classes and the their servants, and even the burgeoning middle class gets a nod in the appearance of Lord Grantham’s new heir, Matthew Crawley, a distant cousin who becomes the new heir after the death of a couple of closer relatives in the Titanic tragedy. Lord Grantham has only daughters, three of them, who are of marriageable age, but with very little inheritance to hook a husband since almost all the money in the family is tied up in the estate. The servants in this grand old English family are all intimately involved in family matters as well as in the working out of their own lives and relationships. Downton Abbey is something of a soap opera, but it just manages to transcend that genre because the problems and the issues that make up the plot are very real and identifiable and intriguing, leading to both reflection and a feeling of connection. The characters are appealing, sometimes frustrating, and the dialog is spot on and funny. I loved this series, and I was only sorry to see it end.

I’ll have to leave the pondering and putting together for another post. However, I would recommend any or all of the above for your viewing or reading pleasure.

Certain Women by Madeleine L’Engle

A couple of years ago I started on a Madeleine L’Engle Project. My goal was to read or re-read all of Ms. L’Engle’s books in the order in which they were published. I didn’t get all that far, but I did re-read some favorites and post about them here at Semicolon. Then, I became distracted by other projects, and I haven’t read anything by Madeleine L’Engle in a while.

So, I am pleased the my participation in the Faith and Fiction Roundtable impelled me to read Certain Women again, one of Ms. L’Engle’s later novels. It’s the story of famous stage actor David Wheaton who is dying of cancer, attended by the wife of his old age, Alice, and by his daughter, Emma, who is also an actress. Alice is actually David Wheaton’s ninth and final wife, and he has nine children, the products of eight previous failed marriages. David Wheaton has always wanted to play the role of King David from the Bible, but the opportunity never came. As Wheaton reviews his life, he and his complicated family see the analogies between the life of David Wheaton, actor, and the life of David, sweet singer and King of Israel.

In the hands of another writer, this book would probably have been about David Wheaton, a man who married many wives and whose life experiences bore a certain resemblance to those of King David, with the similarities being left to the reader to discover. L’Engle chose to highlight the analogies by having Emma’s husband, a playwright, spend most of the novel attempting to write a play, specifically a vehicle for Wheaton to star as King David. By the opening of the novel, the play is a failed attempt that never was completed, and David Wheaton is much too old and sick to play the part of David anyway. But as the novel progresses the characters review scenes that were written about David and his many wives: Michal, Ahinoam, Abigail, Maacah, Bathsheba, Abishag, and others. And Wheaton and his family discuss the similarities between the Wheaton family and King David’s family and the differences. Somehow the Biblical stories give the characters insight into their own family dynamic and help them to reconcile with God and with each other.

I thought the first time I read the book, and I remembered again as I re-read, that this novel in particular, of all Madeleine L’Engle’s novels, has a certain soap opera quality to it. (Madeleine L’Engle’s husband was an actor and a long time character on the daytime drama, All My Children.) The characters move in and out of one another’s lives like soap opera characters, and there’s a lot of adultery, divorce, re-marriage, and other family drama (nothing terribly explicit or offensive). However, L’Engle’s people are more complicated and have more depth to them than the average soap opera witch or ingenue. The story this time around reminded me of Marilynne Robinson’s Gilead in its portrayal of an old man preparing to die, reminiscing about his life, and trying to understand the decisions he’s made and their ongoing effect on his family members. Gilead is probably, almost certainly, the better written book, but somehow Madeleine L’Engle’s books always speak to me.

In this reading I was impressed by the importance of forgiveness for both the sinner and the one sinned against:

“He said that it was only after David lusted after Bathsheba, caused Uriah’s death, only after he had failed utterly with Tamar and Amnon and Absalom, only after he was fleeing his enemies, fleeing his holy city of Jerusalem, that he truly became a king.”

“Parents always fail their children. If we’d had children, we’d have failed ours. That’s simply how it is, and the kids have to get along as best they can. My parents were who they were. Dave is Dave.”

“Emma closed her eyes. There was a terrible empty space where Etienne and Adair should have been. ‘What is forgiveness?’
Chantal’s long fingers gripped the steering wheel. ‘It’s not forgetting. That’s repression, not forgiveness.’
Emma looked over at her sister.
‘Remembering,’ Chantal said, ‘but not hurting anymore.'”

What is your definition of forgiveness? And how do you forgive someone who is either absent or unrepentant?

Jesus said of the prostitute who washed his feet, “Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven–for she loved much. But he who has been forgiven little loves little.” Perhaps only those who know that they have sinned greatly can understand and experience the depth of God’s grace, mercy, and love.

Other participants in today’s discussion of Certain Women:
My Friend Amy: Certain Women, The Women in David’s Life
Heather at Book Addiction.
Book Hooked Blog.
Sheila at Book Journey
Jennifer at Crazy for Books
Carrie at Books and Movies
Ronnica at The Ignorant Historian
Thomas at My Random Thoughts
The 3r’s Blog: Reading, ‘Riting, and Randomness
Word Lily
Tina’s Book Reviews

Blackout and All Clear by Connie Willis

Life is just one d— thing after another. ~Elbert Hubbard

Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans. ~John Lennon

History with its flickering lamp stumbles along the trail of the past, trying to reconstruct its scenes, to revive its echoes, and kindle with pale gleams the passion of former days. ~Winston Churchill

Very few things happen at the right time, and the rest do not happen at all: the conscientious historian will correct these defects. ~Herodotus, The History of Herodotus

We are the prisoners of history. Or are we? ~Robert Penn Warren

Perhaps nobody has changed the course of history as much as the historians. ~Franklin P. Jones

Connie Willis writes some of the best books about time travel and history and epistemology and philosophy that I have ever had the privilege of reading. I first read her novel The Doomsday Book, about time-traveling historians from the future, in 2009. In that book Kivrin, a history student at Oxford in 2048, travels through “the net” back in time to the fourteenth century. After I finished The Doomsday Book, I immediately went out and found a copy of Ms. Willis’s next time travel history book, To Say Nothing of the Dog. It’s a delightful romp in which the fate of the universe may or may not be at stake. However, the course of history and the universe is “self-correcting,” shades of LOST, so the universe is never really in danger of imploding or careening off-track. Probably. I loved it even more than The Doomsday Book.

Now, in 2010, Ms. Willis has published two more future-historians-travel-through-time books: Blackout and All Clear. In these some of the same characters reappear, and the universe or the space-time continuum IS in danger of going off the rails. The focal point of all the temporal disturbance and crisis is World War II, and of course, several of our intrepid historians are criss-crossing Britain through time and space, trying to avoid the temptation to interfere in history and do something that, however well-meaning, might actually change the course of the war and end up making Hitler and the Nazis the victors. It’s not easy to observe history without changing it, however, as Polly and Mike and Eileen find out. It’s also not easy to survive the Blitz in London, even if you know about when and where the bombs are going to drop. Nor is Dunkirk a safe vantage point from which to observe heroism, even though there’s a lot of it going on.

I have several things to say about these two novels. First of all, they’re not really two novels; it’s one novel in two volumes, just as The Lord of the Rings is one book in three parts. So be sure to have the second book, All Clear, on hand before you start the first one. And read them in order even though there’s lots of time travel involved so that events in the novel(s) don’t exactly appear in chronological order.

Second, read these books. If you liked LOST because of the mind-bending time travel and suspenseful and philosophical elements, you should like what Connie Willis has done with these two books. If you’re a WW II buff, you will find these books fascinating. If you just enjoy a good science fiction or historical fiction story, read Blackout and All Clear. And read all the way to the end. It’s worth the confusion that accompanies the 1000+ pages of the two books. (Time travel makes my head hurt—in a good way.)

William Holman Hunt: The Light of the Worldphoto © 2007 freeparking | more info (via: Wylio)
Finally, I think these are what I would call Christian worldview novels. It’s not blatant or didactic or obvious, but if Ms. Willis is not a Christian, she has certainly co-opted Christian values and symbols and made the books breathe a Christian ethos in a way that is both attractive and entertaining. The central images and metaphors of the novels are Christian: The Light of the World, a painting by Holman Hunt, St. Paul’s Cathedral standing above bombed-out London, The Tempest by Shakespeare, a door that opens to another world. The themes are all about redemption and sacrifice and the power of obedience to what is good and noble even when you don’t know what the outcome will be. And this conversation, between a time traveler from the future and an elderly Shakespearean actor caught in the darkest days of WW II, toward the end of the second volume, clinches it for me:

“Was that your third question?” she managed to ask.
“No, Polly,” he said. “Something of more import.” And she knew it must be. . . .
“What is it?” she asked. . . .
He stepped forward and grasped the staircase’s railing, looked up at her earnestly. “Is it a comedy or a tragedy?”
He doesn’t mean the war, she thought. He’s talking about all of it–our lives and history and Shakespeare. And the continuum.
She smiled down at him. “A comedy, my lord.”

Surely, Christians are the ones who believe that life and history are ultimately a comedy that ends in the Great Marriage Feast.

I loved these books.

Guide to the Oxford Time Travel books at The Connie Willis.net Blog.

Content consideration: These novels are adult novels, not for children, and the characters sometimes use bad language. The character Mike, in particular, does take the Lord’s name in vain on numerous occasions.

Listen by Rene Gutteridge

Books like this one are the ones that make me unsure about calling what I do here at Semicolon “book reviews.” I’m not sure Rene Gutteridge’s thriller/mystery/adult novel Listen was all that well written, although it was certainly adequate and told a straightforward story. There were a few places where the motivations of the characters were unclear to me. And I thought the plot had a few holes in it. The characters were OK, but none of them was all that complicated or showed that much growth and change.

Nevertheless, Listen made me think about important stuff, and it held my interest all day today as I read it. And if a book makes me think, I value and recommend it. I’m not that interested in finding the picky little issues that make the book less than critically acclaimed and worthy and pointing them out to all of you (if I’m smart enough to find and articulate those problems in the first place). If that lack of attention to critical detail makes me a bad reviewer, then maybe I’m not really a reviewer. Maybe I’m just a book talker. Or a book discusser.

So, now that I’ve got that distinction off my chest, Listen by Rene Gutteridge made me think about words and the power of words and about gossip and privacy and about what we should post on the Internet and how seriously we should take the words of others posted on blogs or Facebook or Twitter for all to see. I have a friend who posted some pictures on her Facebook page a few months ago. Some people in her church didn’t like the pictures, or the captions that went with them, and didn’t think they were appropriate. These people took their concerns to the church leadership instead of to the young lady in question. The entire matter became a huge Issue, and a lot of people were hurt. Some of them are still hurting.

Listen deals with this problem of words and how accusations and indiscreet words can hurt, especially when those allegations and loose words become public and get distorted by gossip and hearsay. In the book, someone is posting private conversations verbatim on the internet. People start reading and see their own words and words about themselves, and people get hurt and lose trust in one another. The website in the book, called www.listentoyourself.net, is made up of random private conversations that the website author somehow manages to overhear and transcribe. Nevertheless, even though this is a book about the power of the internet, it’s also a book about a problem as old as humanity itself–the power of the tongue and of words to both heal and harm.

When we put bits into the mouths of horses to make them obey us, we can turn the whole animal. Or take ships as an example. Although they are so large and are driven by strong winds, they are steered by a very small rudder wherever the pilot wants to go. Likewise, the tongue is a small part of the body, but it makes great boasts. Consider what a great forest is set on fire by a small spark. The tongue also is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body. It corrupts the whole body, sets the whole course of one’s life on fire, and is itself set on fire by hell.
All kinds of animals, birds, reptiles and sea creatures are being tamed and have been tamed by mankind, but no human being can tame the tongue. It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison. With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse human beings, who have been made in God’s likeness. James 3:3-9

What do you think? What should we do about words that we see and read on the internet? If you see words that you think are harmful to either the person posting them or to others, how do you respond? If the words are public (on the internet), should your response also be public? What if the words have nothing to do with you? Is it still your business?Should you insert yourself, either publicly or privately, into a conflict that others are having in a public forum? If so, when? Should people say things in private that they would be embarrassed to have made public for all to see? Should we say everything (on Facebook, for instance) that we’re thinking as long as we don’t think it will hurt anyone else? What kind of power do words have? Where do you draw the line in sharing personal details about your life on your blog or on other websites? How can we tame our tongues so as not to hurt and wound others?

If you’ve read Listen, you may have even more insight into some of these questions. If you’re concerned with these sorts of problems and issues, you may want to pick up a copy of Rene Gutteridge’s thought-provoking book.

If you have a Kindle, you can get a copy of Listen free at Amazon.

The Identity Man by Andrew Klavan

I went back and forth about reviewing this one. It really has more sexual content and general nastiness than I’m usually comfortable with reading or recommending. The entire world of this novel is corrupt and festering with only a few islands of goodness or even normality, and those are under siege. This story gives “mean streets” a whole new level of meaning. On the other hand, Mr. Klavan has written a book that examines assumptions about redemption and getting a “new start” while at the same time entertaining and intriguing readers who just want to read to see what will happen next and find a solution to the mystery/suspense plotlines.

John Shannon is a petty thief who’s gotten in way over his head. He’s being accused of a heinous murder he didn’t commit, and he already has two strikes (convictions) against him; he’s headed for three strikes and you’re out for life in prison. Then, an anonymous phone caller throws him a lifeline: he can get a new identity. Are there strings attached? Can Shannon really become a new person? Is the mantra that his Identity Man, the man who provides the cosmetic surgery and the papers to give Shannon a second chance, repeats true? “Identity is like stain. You are not changed. You cannot change.”

It’s a basic question. Can a person really change? Can the stains of our sins and mistakes and even crimes really be washed away by positive thinking or a move to a new city or even by the blood of the Lamb? Some people say, “No way.” Nothing ever changes. Everything remains the same. You are what you are till the day that you die. The Identity Man demonstrates an avenue toward change, but it’s the same one our culture has been depending on for the past seventy years of Hollywood happy endings: a man can change by finding and claiming the love of a good woman. In fact, the idea that this particular change agent idea comes from Hollywood is implicit in the book. Shannon finds himself near the beginning of the story watching day after day of old black and white movies in which he finds a meta-narrative that he wishes he were able to emulate. The woman-saves-man solution, however, begs the question: how does the woman become a good woman? Are women innately good? And, if so, do those good women really have the power to drag the men into the realm of goodness and light?

The love of a good woman can’t ultimately save a man anymore than a heroic man can protect his woman from all harm, although both of those scenarios are played out in The Identity Man. Still, those myths have some powerful truth contained within them. True, selfless love can enable the beloved to turn toward change. And heroes, by the grace of God, do protect and defend those they love, even at the cost of their own lives. Nevertheless, real, lasting change in the life of a poor and needy sinner comes only by means of the miraculous. Change happens when God steps in.

We’re all desperate for change, for a new identity. “If any man be in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away. Behold, all things are become new.”