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Reviewing Old Books: March/April 2016

Apr11

“It is a good rule, after reading a new book, never to allow yourself another new one till you have read an old one in between. If that is too much for you, you should at least read one old one to every three new ones. Every age has its own outlook. It is especially good at seeing certain truths and specially liable to make certain mistakes. We all, therefore, need the books that will correct the characteristic mistakes of our own period. And that means the old books. Not, of course, that there is any magic about the past. People were no cleverer then than they are now; they made as many mistakes as we. But not the same mistakes. They will not flatter us in the errors we are already committing; and their own errors, being now open and palpable, will not endanger us.” ~C.S. Lewis

We could all use a few more “old books” to season our reading lives and to give us a different perspective on things. Lewis was probably writing about really old books, written in classical Latin and Greek, but for the purposes of this round up, I’m going to go with 70 years old or more, so published before 1946. I’ll post the reviews I’ve come across this month of books more than 70 years old, and if you have written a review of a qualifying book or if you’ve seen one, please leave a link in the comments. I’ll be happy to pull it up into the post.

So, without further ado, the monthly (?) round up of reviews of old books, for your reading pleasure:

The Temple: Sacred Poems and Private Ejaculations by George Herbert (1633) at Operation Actually Read Bible.

An Account of the Life of Mr Richard Savage, Son of the Earl Rivers by Samuel Johnson (1744) at Tweetspeak.

Bartleby the Scrivener by Herman Melville (1853) at Across the Page.

A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens (1859) at Semicolon.

The Mystery of Edwin Drood by Charles Dickens (1870) at Happy Catholic.

A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court by Mark Twain (1889) at Barbara’s Stray Thoughts.

Resurrection by Leo Tolstoy (1899) at Semicolon.

Beatrix Potter’s Tales (1902-1905) at Simpler Pastimes.

I Will Repay by Baroness Orczy (1906) at journey-and-destination.

Sir Nigel by Arthur Conan Doyle (1906) at journey-and-destination.

Pollyanna by Eleanor Porter (1913) at Living Books Library.

Peacock Pie (1913) by Walter de la Mare at Wuthering Expectations.

South! The Story of Sir Ernest Shackleton’s Last Expedition, 1914-1917 by Ernest Shackleton (1919) at Margy Meanders/Powell River Books.

The Pastures of Heaven by John Steinbeck (1932) at Becky’s Book Reviews.

The Flowering of New England by Van Wyck Brooks (1936) at Faith, Fiction, Friends.

The Sword in the Stone by T.H. White (1938) at Barbara’s Stray Thoughts.

The Baker’s Daughter by DE Stevenson (1938) at Books and Chocolate.

New England Indian Summer 1865-1915 by Van Wyck Brooks (1940) at Faith, Fiction, Friends.

The Long Ships by Franz Gunnar Bengtsson (1941, 1945) at Brandywine Books.

Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh (1945) at journey-and-destination.

For more “old book” suggestions and reviews, check out:

The 1938 Club at Stuck in a Book. Here are the links to reviews of books published in 1938.

Books of the Century website lists best-selling books by year beginning in 1900.

Back to the Classics Challenge 2016.

The blog Simpler Pastimes has a Classic Children’s Literature event going on, where bloggers can add links to reviews of classic children’s books written at least 50 years ago, so published prior to 1966.

The Wednesday Bazaar by Neha Singh

Apr8

A picture book from India, The Wednesday Bazaar is a lovely tale of a little girl who loses her mother at the market/bazaar and finds her again after much searching and with help from many people at the bazaar. The illustrations by Sonal Gupta are beautiful and very evocative of India and its colorful scenery and and clothing.

The story itself is rather slight, but younger children will enjoy the suspense of watching little Bela look throughout the marketplace for her “Ma”. Characters who help Bela in her search are not so much introduced as they just appear in the story, but maybe that’s how it would seem to a lost child in the huge Indian bazaar.

Other picture books set in India:

Atkins, Jeannine. Aani and the Tree Huggers. Illus by Venantius Pinto. Lee and Low, 1995. A little girl tries to save a tree from harvest.
Balachandran, Anitha. The Dog Who Loved Red. Kane Miller, 2011. An Indian family’s dachshund chews everything, especially red things.
Bannerman, Helen. The Story of Little Babaji. Illustrated by Fred Marcellino. HarperCollins, 1996. The Story of Little Black Sambo, recast, to be set in India.
Bash, Barbara. In the Heart of the Village: The World of the Indian Banyan Tree. Sierra Club, 1996. A banyan tree is the heart and center of a rural Indian village.
Bond, Ruskin. The Cherry Tree. Penguin, 2012. Rakish plants a cherry seedling in his garden and watches it grow to maturity to bear fruit.
Cleveland, Rob. The Drum: A Folktale from India. A poor boy dreams of having a drum and learns kindness in pursuit of his dream.
Das, Prodeepta. I Is for India. Frances Lincoln, 2016. An Indian alphabet book with color photographs.
Das, Prodeepta. Geeta’s Day From Dawn to Dusk in an Indian Village. Frances Lincoln, 2010. Photographs of an Indian child’s day in the series A Child’s Day.
Hamilton, Martha and Mitch Weiss. Ghost Catcher. Illustrated by Kristen Balouch. August House, 2007. In a Bengali folktale, a barber outwits a bunch of ghosts.
Harvey, Miles. Look What Came From India. Franklin Watts, 2001. Products and inventions of India.
Heine, Theresa. Elephant Dance. Illustrated by Sheila Moxley. Barefoot Books, 2004. Grandfather tells Anjali and Ravi stories of India and the holiday parade of elephants.
Jayaveeran, Ruth. The Road to Mumbai. HMH Books for Young Readers, 2004. Show and her monkey, Fuzzy Patel, meet many characters on their imaginary journey to Mumbai for a cousin’s wedding.
Krishnaswami, Uma. Monsoon. Illustrated by Jamel Akib. Farrar, Straus & Giroux, 2003. A child and her village await the beginning of the rainy season as the clouds bring the monsoon.
Makhijani, Pooja. Mama’s Saris. Illustrated by Elena Gomez. Little Brown, 2007. A seven year old girl wants to wear her mother’s beautiful, colorful saris.
Nayar, Nandini. What Should I Make? Illustrated by Proiti Roy. Tricycle Press, 2009. Neeraj’s mother is making chapatis and she’s given him a handful of the dough. What should he make with it?
Ravishankar, Anushka. Tiger on a Tree. Farrah Straus and Giroux, 2004. A frightened tiger climbs a tree and is trapped by the villagers. But what can they do with a tiger?
Sheth, Kashmira. Monsoon Afternoon. Ilustrated by Yoshiko Yaeggi. Peachtree, 2008. A young boy and his dadaji (grandfather) head out for a walk into the rainy monsoon weather.
Whelan, Gloria. In Andal’s House. Illustrated by Amanda Hall. Sleeping Bear Press, 2013. Kumar is turned away from Andal’s high caste Brahmin home because Kumar is a Dalit.
Whittaker, Zai. Kali and the Rat Snake. Illustrated by Srividya Natarajan. Kane Miller, 2006. Kali has always been proud of his father, who is the best snake catcher in their Indian village. But when he attends school, the children make fun of his Irula ways.
Young, Ed. Seven Blind Mice. Philomela, 1992. Seven blind mice investigate the strange Something by the pond. And one by one, they each come back with a different theory about what the Something is.

The Winter Sea by Susanna Kearsley

Apr5

The Winter Sea is a novel of historical fiction set before, during and after the Jacobite attempted restoration in 1715 of James III of England and James VIII of Scotland, the Pretender, to the throne of Scotland, recently merged with, or sold to, the English government, much to the dismay of some Scots. A twenty-first century author, Carrie McClelland, is writing a book about Sophia Paterson, an 18th century ancestress of hers who lived during the Jacobite uprising. Both women find romance as their memories become intertwined.

What I liked:

Set in Scotland. What’s not to like about Scotland? Oh, if only all men were born with a Scots accent. But then I suppose it wouldn’t be so appealing, just normal.

The historical information. Granted there’s a lot of telling. Instead of having the characters in the thick of the action as James Stuart, the Pretender, tries to reclaim the throne of Scotland and England from his sister Anne, they are mostly on the sidelines. Watching and waiting are the occupations of the 18th century heroine, Sophia, and researching and channeling dead voices take up almost all of the days and nights of the author, Carrie McClelland, who is writing about Sophia and her adventures. Nevertheless, there’s a great deal of history in the book, and I liked that aspect.

The genealogy angle. The two intertwined stories that make up this romance novel are all about history and the main present day character’s genealogy. In fact, Sophia and others in the past turn out to be related to the author, Carrie, who is writing a historical novel. Yes, it gets a tad confusing, just as real genealogical research does, but I enjoyed all the who’s-related-to-whom stuff.

What I disliked:

Bed before wed. As in most romance novels (and movies) of the twenty-first century variety, the author/heroine and her hero/love interest are abed together before the ink can dry on the page telling of their mutual attraction. I find this disheartening, but at least the reader is spared a graphic description of their sexual adventures. This issue is one major reason I do not read romance novels, not even historical romance novels which might appeal to me because of the history. The historical pair are sorta, kinda married before they engage in marital relations, but only just barely. At least there’s a commitment between the two.

Male possessiveness. Both of the male leads tell their respective inamoratas: “you were mine from the moment I met you”, or something to that effect. And both are fond giving orders and expecting them to be obeyed, even though Carrie, at least, is described as an “independent woman.” I didn’t like the possessiveness that Grant and Moray exhibited.

Florid writing. Romances tend toward purple prose, which is another reason I don’t usually care for them. Here’s a mild example from this novel, chosen at random: “For that swirling moment, all she felt was him—his warmth, his touch, his strength, and when he raised his head she rocked towards him, helplessly off balance.”

So, you can probably judge from all that to-and-fro whether or not this historical fiction novel is for you. If so, enjoy. If not, but you still want some 18th century England/Scotland setting historical fiction, try:

The History of Henry Esmond, Esq. by William Makepeace Thackeray. 1691-1718. England.
Rob Roy by Sir Walter Scott. 1715-1719. Scotland and England.
Devil Water by Anya Seton. 1715-17??. England and America.
The Sound of Coaches by Leon Garfield. England.
Smith: The Story of a Pickpocket by Leon Garfield. England.
Waverley by Sir Walter Scott. 1745. Scotland.
Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson. 1750’s. Scotland.
Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson. 1750’s. England and the ocean-sea.
Mutiny on the Bounty by Charles Nordhoff and James Norman Hall. 1789. South Seas.
Mr. Midshipman Hornblower by C.S. Forrester. 1793.

Or, if you just want something set in Scotland, I can recommend:

Game of Kings by Dorothy Dunnett.
44 Scotland Street series by Alexander McCall Smith.
The 39 Steps by John Buchan.
Scottish Chiefs by Jane Porter.
Mrs. Tim Gets a Job by D.E. Stevenson.
The King’s Swift Rider by Mollie Hunter.
Immortal Queen by Elizabeth Byrd.
The Iron Lance by Stephen Lawhead.
The Fields of Bannockburn by Donna Fletcher Crow.

A Year of Borrowed Men by Michelle Barker

Mar31

1944. Not all World War 2 stories, even those about prisoners, are about concentration camps and horror and death. Even those stories that exist in the shadow of death and destruction can be human and hopeful. A Year of Borrowed Men is one such hopeful war story about kindness and friendship.

Seven yer old Gerda’s father and brother have been “borrowed” by the German military to fight in the war. But the farm where Gerda and her mother and her four brothers and sisters live is necessary to the war effort, too. So the Nazi government sends three French prisoners of war to Gerda’s farm to help with the farm work.

The German families who were hosting the French prisoners were under strict orders not to treat them as family members or even as valued workers, but rather the prisoners were to be used as slave labor to support the German war effort and the feed the populace. However, Gerda’s mother tells her that the French men are only borrowed, that someday they will return to France, and in the meantime they are to be respected and well-treated. The growing friendship between little Gerda and the French prisoners demonstrates the possibility that even in a time of oppression, humanity can bloom.

The illustrations in this Canadian import are beautifully evocative of a rural island of peace in the midst of war. Renne Benoit, the illustrator, lives in Ontario, Canada, and the pictures remind me a little of photographs I have seen of the Canadian prairies, although the book is set in Germany. The watercolor and colored pencil illustrations are also quite similar in style to Renee Graef’s illustrations for the Little House picture books. If you like those pictures of cozy farm life, you’ll probably appreciate those found in The Year of Borrowed Men.

The story is based on the World War 2 experiences of the author’s mother. An afterword at the end of the book informs the reader that little Gerda, Ms. Barker’s mother, never saw her father and brother return from the war. She also never again saw the three Frenchmen who worked the farm after war was over, but she did remember the French “borrowed men” with fondness as “fruende” or “amis”.

I am pleased to add this picture book to the World War 2 section of my library as it gives a different perspective on the war and its many stories.

Dear John

Mar29

I have a young friend to whom I would like to say some things. However, this friend, whom I love and esteem very much, doesn’t want to hear anything on the subject at hand, that is, Christianity. So, I thought I’d write “John” a letter here on my blog for three reasons:

1) John doesn’t read my blog, so I could write what I want to say and not offend.
2) I need an outlet for all the pent-up words that I want to say to John.
3) Maybe someone else would be helped or encouraged by what I have to say. (If you see yourself in the descriptions I give of my friend John, then I would imagine that someone who loves you would like to say these words or similar ones to you.)

Dear John,

You are a fine man. You have worked hard and learned much to become an outstanding student and an academic success. You are kind and fun to be around and a good friend. Because you have been given great gifts of intelligence and ability, and because you have put those gifts to good use, you have earned my respect and honor. You have long had my friendship and my love.

You are on the threshold of a new chapter in your life, and you are moving into the next phase of your career with confidence and with humility. All of your friends and family are so very proud of you and of all you have accomplished and of all you plan and dream of for the future.

And yet . . . this one thing you lack: you have left your first love, and your life is built on a foundation of sand. You once professed to follow Jesus Christ as a young adult. Then, later, you said you didn’t believe “any of that Christian stuff” anymore. As far as I know (you don’t like to talk about spiritual things), you now have a vague belief in God, maybe even in Jesus, but you don’t go to church and you avoid any discussion of spiritual truth. You’re a good man, but as far as anyone can see from the outside, you’re not a follower of Jesus. Jesus Christ is not the source of your life and of your direction in life.

Because I love and admire you, this lack makes me very sad. What shall it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses his own soul? I daresay that you have the potential to go far in either business or academia or any other area of endeavor you choose. You are super smart, and you work hard. But what is it all for? I don’t understand what meaning a life apart from Christ can have. In fact, I don’t mean to make anyone depressed, but apart from Jesus and a life founded and anchored in his work of forgiveness and redemption, nothing really has much significance or meaning for me.

In addition to giving my life and my decisions and my relationships meaning, Jesus Christ is the only one who has the right and the authority to rule over me and over you. We can evade that authority, and I have tried, but either Jesus was and is Lord of all, “very God of God”, or He lied or was self-deluded (Lewis’s famous tri-lemma). And if He is God, if He died for our sins and was resurrected on the third day, if He reigns over heaven and earth, then our petty successes (or failures) don’t really mean too much in the light of His glory and the honor that is due Him. We owe Jesus our very lives and every minute of our time and every ounce of the talents and abilities He has given us. Conversely, the lordship of Jesus is the only thing that gives meaning to our actions and decisions here on this earth. If I am serving Jesus, then it’s all worthwhile. If not, then nothing is worth much.

So, because all of this “Christian stuff” is self-evident and obviously true in my eyes, I don’t understand why you won’t follow Him. Is it because Christians have disappointed you in the past? Are you really going to let someone else’s failure keep you from the One who redeems all of our faults and failures? Is it pride? Are you trapped in your past denial of faith in Him and too proud to admit that He is Lord? Do you still believe that your intelligence, your talent, and your ethical behavior are enough to please God and make a good life for yourself? If so, I believe that you eventually will come to the end of yourself and see that you are not enough, that you need God’s mercy, God’s grace, and the forgiveness to be found only in Christ just as much as the rest of us do.

I don’t mean to sound self-righteous or to give you the impression that I know everything while you are blind. In fact, I have been just as blind to the great mercy of Jesus as you seem to be now, and even today I ignore Him, take His grace for granted, and fail to be the follower that He calls me be. Daily, I must repent and return to my first love, Jesus. Please, someday when you see clearly your desperate need for a Savior and a Guide, come along with me and look to Jesus. And if you outrun me to the foot of the cross and if you prove to more faithful, more Spirit-filled, more loving and kind and Jesus-centered, than I have ever been enabled to become, that will be just fine. I’ll be happy to follow you and try to catch up as you follow Jesus.

I can’t wait for us to join together in running after Him.

Celebrate Jesus Through the Year

Mar27



These two books by Martha Zimmerman are the sources for many of our holiday traditions: the resurrection egg hunt, the covered windows and darkness on Good Friday and on Saturday, our sunrise Easter breakfast, the Emmaus walk, the celebrations of Passover and other Jewish feasts that we have done as a family in years past.

For more ideas of how to celebrate holy-days that are Christ-centered, I highly recommend these books. Coming up is Ascension Day, celebrated on the Thursday that falls forty days after Resurrection Sunday, and also Pentecost, the seventh Sunday after Resurrection Day. You can find many, many ideas for celebrating these and other Biblical and Christian holidays in Mrs. Zimmerman’s books.

Emmaus Walk

Mar27

In her book Celebrating the Christian Year Martha Zimmerman suggests that we use part of the afternoon on Resurrection Sunday for an Emmaus Walk.

On Easter Day, two disciples were going to a village named Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, and talking with each other about all the things that had happened. While they were talking and discussing together, Jesus himself drew near and went with them. But their eyes were kept from recognizing him. And he said to them, “What is this conversation which you are holding with each other as you walk?” And they stood still, looking sad. Then one of them, named Cleopas, answered him, “Are you the only visitor to Jerusalem who does not know the things that have happened there in these days:” And he said to them, “What things?” And they said to him, “Concerning Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, and how our chief priests and rulers delivered him up to be condemned to death, and crucified him. Yes, and besides all this, it is now the third day since this happened. Moreover, some women of our company amazed us. They were at the tomb early in the morning and did not find his body; and they came back saying that they had even seen a vision of angels, who said that he was alive. Some of those who were with us went to the tomb, and found it just as the women had said; but him they did not see.” Luke 24:13-35

Take a walk together. Discuss the things the Lord has done. Talk about all that has happened to you this year and about what you’re planning for the rest of the year. Enjoy the company of Jesus as you walk and talk.

For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them. Matthew 18:20

High Noon by Andrew Peterson

Mar27

This video was put together by my pastor, using Andrew Peterson’s inspiring music and lyrics and clips from the movie of The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe:

Quite an appropriate Resurrection Sunday meditation.

Resurrection Sunday 2016

Mar27

Over the past few days, I’ve been republishing some edited posts from Resurrection celebrations of the past twelve years that I’ve been writing this blog. And I’ve written a few new posts to intersperse between and among.

Last year on Resurrection Sunday I wrote about the most important and significant thing in my life—and about what I wish for each of you who read this blog. Today I want to say it again, in different words perhaps, but still the same old, old story because it’s that important: it bears repeating that Jesus is Lord.

I’m just a fifty-eight year old mom. I’ve read a few books, birthed eight children, made a lot of mistakes, told some lies, and discovered one overwhelmingly important Truth: Jesus is Lord.

I don’t know where you are in your journey of faith. Maybe, like me, you know that Jesus is the way, the truth and the life and that no one comes to God the Father except through Jesus. Maybe you’ve died to yourself, been
“born again” and dedicated your life to the proposition that Jesus is Lord.

Or maybe you’re just not there (dare I say, yet). Maybe you have doubts about Jesus, doubts about God, fears that admitting the truth of Jesus’s lordship over your life will mean a descent into religiosity or intellectual suicide or fluffy self-delusion. Maybe the very idea of becoming a Christian, following the commands of Jesus as they are set forth in the Bible and asking Him for forgiveness for your mistakes and your brokenness and your sin, is anathema to you. Still, Jesus is Lord.

I don’t know much. Sometimes I think I do, but then events usually conspire to show me that all my great knowledge and intelligence are not enough to even run my own life properly, much less that of anyone else. And I’ll leave those who think they can do it to run for president and presume to become the “leader of the free world.” Maybe God is leading someone to do just that. Goodness knows, somebody’s got to govern the country. But whoever becomes president had better know one thing: Jesus is Lord.

Not only do I not know much, but I can’t even say what I do know very well. I certainly don’t speak with the tongues of men and of angels. If God were waiting on my eloquence to convince a dying world of hurting people to turn to Him, we would all be waiting for a long, long time. All I can really say is: Jesus is Lord.

Today is Resurrection Sunday. Jesus, who died and then rose again, is here in this puny little world, and He is Lord, Lord of the earth, Lord of the stars, Lord of the galaxies and black holes and comets and planets and quarks and quasars and anything else that anyone can imagine, as well as many things we haven’t even begun to conceive. That same Jesus who was crucified between two thieves is also the resurrected Lord, Owner and Director of all things in heaven and on earth. Jesus is Lord.

And that great Lord, mighty and powerful and full of all the immenseness of the universe, is a Lord of Love. He loves me. He loves you. He knows my name and my thoughts and my psychological complexities and everything about me, just as he knows you in all your depths and heights and quirks and qualities. Of all the bigness of everything and all the smallest infinitesimal molecules, Jesus is Lord.

Jesus is Lord, and He loves. The only rational response to that vast and intimate loving knowledge is to fall before Him and worship and give thanks and live in joyful gratitude and praise. Of course, I’m not always rational. Neither are you, probably. I muddle along, forget to pray, forget to seek Him, act as if Jesus’s death and resurrection never even happened, try to figure it all out all by myself instead of asking Him to show me the way. Nevertheless, Jesus is Lord.

This one thing I know: Jesus is Lord. He is risen from the dead, and He is Lord. He loves you and me, and He is Lord. The question remains: what am I going to do about that truth? What are you going to do about it?

My prayer for each of us on the Resurrection Sunday is that we will recognize and follow the Lord Jesus Christ.

Jesus is Lord.