Credo and Marilynne Robinson

Credo_01I told you that I had an opportunity to hear Marilynne Robinson, Pulitzer-prize winning author of Gilead, speak here in Houston at a conference on Christians and the arts sponsored by Houston Bapist University. Last Thursday I made the trek to HBU and spent the day there. It was an enlightening experience.

My first impression of the conference, called Credo, was that it was under-attended. I had the obviously mistaken idea that a Pulitzer-prize winning author would bring out the literati from their hiding places to fill the joint to capacity. Ms. Robinson first spoke at the Thursday morning meeting that the university calls “convocation.” There were lots of students and professors there, maybe a couple of hundred, but I got the distinct impression that most of them were there because they get “points” for attending sessions of this sort. Not that the students were impolite or unattentive, but I got this impression because the reading that Ms. Robinson gave at noon was much more poorly attended, less than fifty people total. It was a sad commentary on the priorities of the citizens of my fair city, but nice for me. I was able to sit front and center, get my copy of Gilead autographed by the author, and I could have asked her questions if I could have thought of anything intelligent to ask. If I had known the opportunity would be there, I would have come prepared.

Anyway her first speech, which she read, was called On Reverence. Maybe she doesn’t think any faster than I do since she read the speech, but she certainly does think deeply. I would like to read the address she gave because to be completely honest, I was having trouble following her at times. It was dense, not deliberately opaque or esoteric, just full of stuff that made wish she would slow down and let me catch up. I wrote down a few quaotations, which was a mistake because when I take notes I miss whatever is being said while I’m writing. These are loosely transcribed, maybe not her exact words:

“There is somethng about certainty that renders Christianity unchristian. Therefore I have cultivated a certain uncertainty. We inhabit a reality far greater than our certainties.”

“Both the doctrine of predestination and the doctrine of free will have a tendency to make God into a tyrant.” She said that she tends to come down, lightly, on the side of predestination since leaving things in God’s hands is a more comforting and merciful option than believing that ultimate reality depends on human decisions.

“I don’t know what to make of hell, but certainly it means that our human acts and choices have an eternal significance.” Again Ms. Robinson recognizes the tension that exists between God’s sovereignty and human freedom and chooses, for the most part, to live inside that tension.

“As a Christian I read about quantum physics or string theory assuming that I am learning about God’s creation.

“It a daily miracle that we are privileged to live among these beings whom God loves.”

She doesn’t like Max Weber’s The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism, but I’m afraid I didn’t follow the reasoning that caused her to call it “a bad little book.” I did ask her, as she was signing my book, if she was working on another novel, and she said that she was.

The reading she gave at noon was a passage from Gilead that told about the main character’s, John Ames’s, memory of how he and his father made a long trip on foot to visit the gravesite of his grandfather in Kansas. She read beautifully, and I followed along in my copy of the book. Then, she answered some questions from the audience and told us, among other things, that she doesn’t revise her work; she simply drops and adds things as she writes. She said that she began writing Gilead with a picture in her mind of an old man in a rocking chair who was telling a young boy about his life. She said before that she had assumed that her next book after Housekeeping would be told from a woman’s point of view, but after she saw that picture in her mind she began writing about that elderly man. She mentioned the difficulty of writing a book while knowing that your narrator was going to die at the end of the story. Who would narrate the ending?

I really enjoyed hearing Ms. Robinson speak. Again, I wish I had a transcript of her talk. Nevertheless, I recommend you be one of the few if you ever have the opportunity to hear her.

Another account of the first day of the Credo conference from Jenni at the blog Dreams of Genevieve.

To This Great Stage of Fools: Born January 30th

Walter Savage Landor, poet, b. 1775.

Ann Taylor (b. 1782) who along with her sister Jane published several books of poems for children. Among the poems she and sister Jane wrote was the well-known Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star. I found an online copy of a book of the sisters’ poems entitled Little Ann. Most of the poems are about little children who misbehave and what will happen to such naughty little boys and girls–refreshingly politically incorrect in this day and age when we’re supposed to pretend that they’re behaving even when they’re not.

Gelett Burgess, poet, author, and humorist, b. 1866. He’s most well-known for his poem:

I never saw a purple cow,
I never hope to see one;
But I can tell you, anyhow,
I’d rather see than be one!

He also coined the word “blurb,” placing a picture of a fictitious character, Mis Belinda Blurb, on the dust cover of one of his books with a caption that said she was “blurbing.” The word came to designate the text telling about the book rather than the picture or the dustcover itself.

Franklin Delano Roosevelt, b. 1882.

Angela Margaret Thirkell, b. 1890. Read some thoughts on Ms. Thirkell’s book, Private Enterprise or on County Chronicle by the same author.

Barbara Tuchman, historian, b. 1912. I am very fond of Tuchman’s book, A Distant Mirror: The Calamitous Fourteenth Century, a history of France during the high Middle Ages. However, I must enjoy reading about the Middle Ages more than I like reading about WW I because I have yet to finish The Guns of August, the first book for which Tuchman won the Pulitzer Prize.

Francis Schaeffer, b. 1912, Christian theologian, philosopher, and apologist.

Lloyd Alexander, b. 1924, is one of my favorite fantasy authors (after CS Lewis and Tolkien, of course). His books have won the Newbery Award, Newbery honor, and have a place on my very exclusive list of the 100 Best Fiction Books Ever Written.

Last but not least, Richard Cheney, b.1941, the 46th vice-president of the United States, is 66 years old today. I watched him during the State of the Union address, and he didn’t look any happier or more supportive than the Democrat Speaker of the House, Nancy Pelosi, did. Maybe he had a stomach ache. I wonder if he likes sharing a birthday with FDR.

Gossamer by Lois Lowry

Let me say first that I really, really liked this book. I’m surprised it didn’t win some sort of award. (It was on the ALSC list of Notable Children’s Books.) Littlest One, the main character, is a dream-giver-in-training with a gossamer touch. Ms. Lowry has created in Gossamer a lovely imaginary world in which dreams have meaning, and even nightmares are susceptible to “dream therapy.”

My library system classifies this book as “young adult.” The main human character in the book, a boy, is seven years old, and Littlest One is of an undetermined age, but young. Maybe she’s the “young adult” character. Or maybe the book is “young adult” because it deals with child abuse. I wouldn’t suggest it for seven year olds, but middle grades and teenagers maybe? Alabama Moon, a book I wrote about not too long ago, was nominated for the Middle Grade Fiction Cybil Award, and I thought it was great but more appropriate for maybe junior high, or even high school students. Gossamer is also appropriate for the same age groups. So what is the age grouping for YA? Grades seven through 12? Through college? Does middle grades include middle school (grades 6-8) or just elementary school (grades 3-6)? Those poor twelve year olds, where do they fit in?

Anyway, I thought Gossamer was a satisfying story. It’s not too long; it felt more like a short story than a novel. However, it was meaningful and brought a smile to my face several times as I was reading. I’m planning to recommend it to Brown Bear Daughter and maybe even Organizer Daughter, the one who reads no fantasy except for Harry Potter. She might enjoy Gossamer, not that it will rival HP in any sense of the word rival.

Week 16 of World Geography: Iran and Iraq

Music:
Rimsky-Korsakov—Scheherazade

Mission Study:
1. Window on the World: Afghanistan
2. WotW: Hazara
3. WotW: Iraq
4. WotW: Kyrgyz
5. WotW: Yemen

Poems:
Still As a Star—Lee Bennett Hopkins

Science:
Astronomy: Our Solar System

Nonfiction Read Alouds:
Arabs in the Golden Age–Moktefi

Fiction Read Alouds:
King of the Wind—Henry The little girls (ages 7 and 5) and I read a few chapters of this book, but it never captured any of us. We gave up. Maybe we’re just not horsey people.
Seven Daughters and Seven Sons—Cohen I read this book to Brown Bear Daughter and Karate Kid. They were intrigued by the romantic story and the whole idea of a girl who had to dress up as a boy in order to escape her society’s restrictions and help her family. The plot reminded me a bit of Shakespeare with all his girls dressed up as boys, and there was one uncomfortable scene where the prince is afraid he is falling in love with his (male, but not really) best friend. Great story.

Picture Books:
The Golden Sandal—Hickox A Middle Eastern Cinderella story.
The Librarian of Basra—Winter
The Persian Cinderella—ClimoI’ve been trying to help Betsy, age 7, to see the differences and similarities between the various Cinderella tales. It’s a good exercise in comparison and contrast.
Legend of the Persian Carpet–dePaola

Elementary Readers:
Shadow Spinner—Fletcher Brown Bear Daughter is still planning to read this one, since Scheherazade is mentioned in Seven Daughters and Seven Sons, but she’s working on the Cybils Middle Grade Fiction finalists.
House of Wisdom—Heide I got this one from the library and read it to the younger girls, but I wasn’t too impressed. The illustrations are beautiful.
Camel Bells—Carlsson. I got this book from the library and read it myself, but I didn’t share it with the urchins. It’s translated from the Swedish and loses something in the translation.
The Breadwinner—Ellis
A 16th Century Mosque—Macdonald Karate Kid read this one, and now he knows what a mosque is.
The Beduins’ Gazelle–Temple

Previous posts in our Around the World 2006-2007 homeschool unit study.

To This Great Stage of Fools: Born January 28th

John Baskerville, printer and type designer, b. 1706. A. Conan Doyle is thought to have taken the name of the family in his story “The Hound of the Baskervilles” from the John Baskerville family.

Sabine Baring-Gould, b. 1834. A Victorian archaeologist, he had fifteen children and wrote the hymn “Onward Christian Soldiers”. More information on his eccentricities here.


Vera B. Williams, b. 1927, children’s author and illustrator. She wrote and illustrated two of my favorite picture books, A Chair for My Mother and Two Days on a River in a Red Canoe. Her bio sounds as if she’s led a colorful life: she helped start a “community” (sounds like a commune) in the hills of North Carolina and a school based on the Summerhill model. Then she moved to Canada and lived on a houseboat for a while–where she wrote her first book. Oh, and she spent a month in the federal penitentiary in West Virginia after a “peaceful blockade of the Pentagon.” Well, anyway, the books are great and not really counter-cultural at all.

Lesson plan for teaching A Chair for My Mother.

To This Great Stage of Fools: Born January 27th

Lewis Carroll, b. Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, 1832 at Cheshire, England. Now you know where the name for the Cheshire Cat came from. At least, I assume so.

My favorite Lewis Carroll poem: Jabberwocky

My favorite scene from Alice in Wonderland: The very mixed-up croquet game in which the players keep on chasing their hedgehog balls around the lawn.

My favorite Lewis Carroll quote:

“When I use a word,” Humpty Dumpty said, in a rather scornful tone, “it means just what I choose it to mean, neither more nor less.”

“The question is,” said Alice, “whether you can make words mean so many different things.”

“The question is,” said Humpty Dumpty, “which is to be master – that’s all.” Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll

More quotes:

“The horror of that moment,” the King went on, “I shall never forget!”
“You will, though,” The Queen said, “if you don’t make a memorandum of it.” (Through the Looking Glass)

“The rule is, jam tomorrow and jam yesterday – but never jam today.”

One day Alice came to a fork in the road and saw a Cheshire cat in a tree.
“Which road do I take?” she asked.
“Where do you want to go?” was his response.
“I don’t know,” Alice answered.
“Then,” said the cat, “it doesn’t matter.”

The children are watching Disney’s version of Alice in Wonderland. I did read the book to them, before I allowed Disney to corrupt their minds.

Eldest Daughter took a Victorian fantasy class last fall, and she fell in love with dear old Professor Dodgson. She won’t hear a word against him and insists that his photographic hobby was completely innocent. Did you know that George Macdonald and his family read Lewis Carroll’s “Alice story” and encouraged him to have it published?

Poetry and Fine Art Friday: Colum and Monet

Fisherman's Cottage on the Cliffs at Var




Fisherman’s Cottage on the Cliffs at Var

Art Print

Monet, Claude


Buy at AllPosters.com

An Old Woman of the Roads
by Padraic Colum

O, to have a little house!
To own the hearth and stool and all!
The heaped up sods upon the fire,
The pile of turf against the wall!

To have a clock with weights and chains
And pendulum swinging up and down!
A dresser filled with shining delph,
Speckled and white and blue and brown!

I could be busy all the day
Clearing and sweeping hearth and floor,
And fixing on their shelf again
My white and blue and speckled store!

I could be quiet there at night
Beside the fire and by myself,
Sure of a bed and loth to leave
The ticking clock and the shining delph!

Och! but I’m weary of mist and dark,
And roads where there’s never a house nor bush,
And tired I am of bog and road,
And the crying wind and the lonesome hush!

And I am praying to God on high,
And I am praying Him night and day,
For a little house—a house of my own—
Out of the wind’s and the rain’s way.

Since I’m reading Padraic Colum’s book of Greek hero tales for my Newbery book for this next week, I thought a bit of his poetry might be a Friday treat. Colum was an Irish folklorist, a playwright, an author of cildren’s books. He was also a friend of James Joyce. He typed part of the manuscript of Finnegan’s Wake for Joyce, and Joyce praised Colum’s poetry. I think Monet’s cottage goes well with the poem, don’t you? I’m sure it was just such a house the old woman was longing for as she travelled on her weary way.

Susan has the Poetry Friday round-up for today.

And don’t forget to leave a link to your book review(s) for this week —tomorrow here at Semicolon.

The Speed of Dark by Elizabeth Moon

What I have in my head is light and dark and gravity and space and swords and groceries and colors and numbers and people and patterns so beautiful I get shivers all over. I still do not know why I have those patterns and not others.

The book answers questions other people have thought of. I have thought of questions they have not answered. I always thought my questions were wrong questions because no one else asked them. Maybe no one thought of them. Maybe darkness got there first. Maybe I am the first light touching a gulf of ignorance.

Maybe my questions matter.

For a long time I’ve been fascinated by the minds and experiences of those who are “other” —the mentally ill, autistic, obcessive/compulsive, even the merely eccentric. Why and how do different minds work differently? Where is the edge of normality? Is there a useful distinction between those people who are mentally ill and those who are eccentric and/or highly creative? If the symptoms of autism or manic/depressive illness or even hyperactivity are controlled through the use of medication or therapy, does the person lose some useful and good capacity that is associated with the illness in addition to losing the symptoms that are debilitating and undesirable? Do autistic persons in particular need to be cured or understood and accepted? Do all persons have questions that matter, even those whose questions are unusual and even seemingly nonsensical?

The Speed of Dark is a fictional account of a high-functioning autistic adult, Lou Arrendale, who lives in a near-future time in which he is one of the last of his kind. Medical intervention, before or soon after birth, has made autism a thing of the past, and only a few adults, born before the medical advances, are still functioning as autists in his society. Lou has a job, a car, and friends, but he knows he is different, unable to be normal, only able to act somewhat normal most of the time. When he has the opportunity to participate in an experimental treatment that may change the way his brain functions and eliminate his autistic symptoms, Lou must decide whether he wants to be “normal.” Without his autism, will he still be himself, or will he become someone else? If the latter, does he want to be that other person? Will he lose the ability to analyze complex patterns and to pair those patterns of color and shape with music and with fencing, his outlet for self-expression? How much of who Lou is is bound up with his autism and with his past experience of overcoming the difficulties of being autistic in a “normal” world?

The autistic adults in the novel have a joke: “Normal is only a dryer setting.” But they’re not sure they believe it when the chance comes for them to be what others call normal. The novel is told mostly in first person from the point of view of an autistic person; the novel I read a few months ago, the curious incident of the dog in the night-time by Mark Haddon, was narrated in the same first person voice. Since the point of both novels is to place the reader inside the mind of an autistic person and enable the reader to see life as an autistic person does, this first person narration works very well in spite of its limitations. Elizabeth Moon drops the first person point of view at times over the course of the story when she wants to show us something that Lou could not be expected to know or to understand.

The Speed of Dark, published by Ballantine Books, a mainstream publisher, is what Christian fiction should be. It has none of the bad language, sexually explicit descriptions, or gratuitous violence that Christian publishers are supposed to screen out, but it does deal with the important questions of predestination and healing and self-ness that are a part of the Christian worldview. It doesn’t give easy answers; no one gets converted; and no one preaches. (Well, a priest preaches in one scene, but it’s not didactic.) However, Lou, in particular, struggles with his questions and choices in a Christian context. His thinking about himself and about God is challenged, and he grows spiritually and mentally over the course of the novel.

I’ll repeat that the best works of “Christian fiction” that I’ve read in the past few years have been:

River Rising by Athol Dickson

Gilead by Marilynne Robinson

Peace Like a River by Leif Enger

Jewel by Brett Lott

The Speed of Dark by Elizabeth Moon

Only one of those books was published by a CBA publisher.

To This Great Stage of Fools: Born January 25th


Robert Burns, Scots poet, b. 1759.
Kate’s Book Blog on Burns’ Birthday
Semicolon: January 25, 2004
Rebecca celebrates with a whole slew of Robbie Burns posts from 2005.

Somerset Maugham, b. 1874. “There are three rules for writing the novel. Unfortunately, no one knows what they are.”

Virginia Woolf, b. 1882. Eldest Daughter on Virginia Woolf: “To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf. This is a beautiful poetic exploration of the ephemerality of human relationships. You can have Joyce; give me Woolf for the highest example of the stream of consciousness technique. Because with her it’s not about the technique, it’s about the people.” I couldn’t say. Modern-day philistine that I am, I’ve never read Joyce or Woolf.

Edwin Newman, b. 1919. Longtime anchorman of NBC News, he also wrote the book Strictly Speaking about the use and misuse of the English language.

The Newbery Award: 1922

1922 Medal Winner: The Story of Mankind by Hendrik Willem van Loon (Liveright)
Honor Books:
The Great Quest by Charles Hawes (Little, Brown)
Cedric the Forester by Bernard Marshall (Appleton)
The Old Tobacco Shop: A True Account of What Befell a Little Boy in Search of Adventure by William Bowen (Macmillan)
The Golden Fleece and The Heroes Who Lived Before Achilles by Padraic Colum (Macmillan)
The Windy Hill by Cornelia Meigs (Macmillan)

I searched for all these books using the handy WorldCat search box in the sidebar. The only ones that are readily available are the award winner for 1922, van Loon’s The Story of Mankind and The Golden Fleece and the Heroes Who Lived Before Achilles by Padraic Colum. I’m not going to bother with The Story of Mankind. I’ve looked at it before, back in library school, and it’s an outdated evolutionary tract. (“Then one day the great wonder happened. What had been dead, gave birth to life. The first living cell floated upon the waters of the sea.”) You can read it here if you’d like.

As for the other easily obtainable book, The Golden Fleece, I actually have a copy on my groaning bookshelves. You can also read it online here, with illustrations by Willy Pogany, the same artist who illustrated my favorite poetry book, by the way. So the Newbery Honor book I’ll be reading for the week of January 28-February 3 is The Golden Fleece and the Heroes Who Lived Before Achilles by Padraic Colum. I’l be trying to answer these questions as I read:

Is the language too archaic or difficult for children of 2007?

Would Karate Kid (age 9) enjoy reading this book with his dad? He and Engineer Husband are already reading King Arthur, but they’re about to finish that book.

Are there more modern versions of the Greek hero stories that would be better, or is Colum’s book the gold standard?

Why did the committee that chose the first Newbery Award winner also name Colum’s book as a runner-up? Would librarians choose this book for a Newbery Honor if it were published in 2007?
Until the 1970’s the Newbery committe named an award book and sometimes several “runners-up.” In 1971 the term “runners-up” was changed to “honor books,” and all the runners-up from previous years were also changed to honor books.

If you already know the answers to any of these questions, or if you have read Colum’s book and have comments, or if you’d like to read with me, leave a comment so I’ll know who’s interested.

For those who didn’t read my previous post, I’m going on a journey starting this week through the annals of the Newbery Award and Honor books for Distinguished Children’s Literature. I’m planning to read a Newbery Award or Honor book each week this year. You’re welcome to play along if you’d like. I’ll post my reactions and thoughts on Sunday night, February 4th.