Showing posts with label non-fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label non-fiction. Show all posts

Monday, November 25, 2024

Some Monday Readings - Nov. 25, 2024


4 Mistakes I See Nonfiction Authors Make (and How to Fix Them) – Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach. 

The Old World is Not Coming Back – speech by Bari Weiss of The Free Press.

 

The Nights of Old London – Spitalfields Life.

 

The Sound and the Fury: William Faulkner’s Great-Grandfather – Brian Kowell at Emerging Civil War.

 

In 1177 BCE, Civilizations Fell Apart In A Mysterious Simultaneous Collapse – IFL Science.

 

Plainsong – poem by Donald Platt at New Criterion.

 

Tales from the Road: ‘Disappearing into Dill Branch Ravine – John Banks’ Civil War Blog.

 

Justice Inverted – guest post by Daniel Pomerantz at Clarity with Michael Oren.

 

Learning to love. How the poet Dana Gioia discovered his vocation through music – The Common Reader.

 

Photograph: William Clark Falkner, great-grandfather of William Faulkner and the inspiration for the Old Colonel.

Monday, December 6, 2021

Books I’m Not Recommending for Christmas


My list of “Books I’m Not Recommending for Christmas” continues for 2021. In early December, I take stock of what I’ve read over the year. This isn’t a “best books of the year” activity as much as looking back and reflecting upon the novels, short stories, poetry, and non-fiction I’ve read that have made a particular impact. The “not recommending” description comes from my idiosyncratic view that no one should select books for another person, unless that person has requested it. 

Mt selections were tough in three categories, because they were what I read the most – fiction, poetry, and mysteries. I’ve divided fiction into two groups this year – those written in English and those translated into English. (Note: not all of these books were published in 2021, and all links are to my reviews.)

 

Children’s Stories

 

I read children’s stress because I’m always on the lookout for stories for the three grandsons. Two that I read were especially well done. Sara Barkat’s The Midnight Ball is a story about an invitation, telling time, and the oddest collection of partygoers you can imagine. Seth Lewis’s The Notorious Adventures of Nutt the Nefarious has just the right balance of fun (for kids) and satire (for adults). 

 

Mystery

 


I’ve been reading mystery stories since I was 9. I’ve probably read more mysteries than any other genre. And I take (some) solace in the fact that T.S. Eliot loved mysteries, too. 

 

This year, I discovered the William Benson legal thrillers by John Fairfax, aka Willian Brodrick. I had already been a fan of Brodrick’s Father Anselm mysteries, and then found this later series (and they’re not easy to find in print; I find used copies via Amazon and Alibris). Summary Justice is the first of the three published so far. I also enjoyed the Ryder and Loveday mysteries of Faith Martin, set in Oxford and of which A Fatal Obsession is the first (of seven so far). Damien Boyd published a new Nick Dixon mystery, Down Among the Dead, and I thoroughly enjoyed the first of Tim Sullivan’s mysteries, The Cyclist

 

These mysteries all have one major thing in common. They’re written by British authors.

 

Faith

 


Hands down, the book in this category I enjoyed the most this year was Seeing Jesus by Robert Hudson. Hudson takes a historical look at great visions of Jesus claimed throughout the centuries and the impact the people had on the culture, society, and their eras. 

 

Literary Criticism

 


My taste in literary criticism leans to (surprise) C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien, and this year produced a bumper crop of fine works. On C.S. Lewis, there was C.S. Lewis: Pre-Evangelism for a Post-Christian World by Brian Williams and After Humanity,  Michael Ward’s guide to The Abolition of Man. Holley Ordway published Tolkien’s Modern Reading, tracing his influences to more than what the conventional wisdom holds. 

 

On the non-Lewis / non-Tolkien side, I really liked Jason Stacy’s Spoon River America and John Mullan’s The Artful Dickens. I also enjoyed the second volume of Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn’s literary memoir, Between Two Millstones

 

Non-fiction

 


My non-fiction reading tends to lean to the iconoclastic and anti-prevailing cultural. Jeffrey Bilbro takes a historical and theological journey into news media with Reading the Times. Rod Dreher looks at the lessons of the Soviet era and applies them to America in Live Not by Lies. In An Effort to Understand, David Murray seeks to find a way across the political divide. The Revolt of the Public by Martin Gurri focuses on the role of information today, and how it has seriously undercut the trust in and credibility of our traditional elites.

 

Poetry

 


Because of my work for Tweetspeak Poetry, and also because I enjoy it, I read a lot of poetry. And some really fine poetry was published this year. Just a few of the highlights: The Strangeness of the Good by James Matthew Wilson; My Father’s Face by Chandra Gurung; Love in the Time of Coronavirus by Angela Alaimo O’Donnell; Four Texas Quartets by Mark Johnson Cole (a nod to T.S. Eliot); Learning to Pray by Yahia Lababidi; The Courage It Takes by Kelly Chripczuk; and The Green Man by David Russell Mosley.

 

Fiction: In Translation



The Aviator by Eugene Vodolazhin was first published in English in 2018. It’s a fascinating tale of a man who awakens in a hospital bed who gradually learns he’s the sole survivor of freezing experiments conducted during the Soviet regime of Stalin. He’s as “old as the century,” and his story becomes Russia’s sory in the 20th century. This may get my nod as my favorite book in my 2021 reading.

 

Gerta by Katerina Tuckova is the story of a girl of German ethnicity living in Brno, Czechoslovakia, before, during and after World War II. It’s a story that often doesn’t get told: what happened to ethnic Germans living in the “wrong countries” after the war. At the End of the Matinee by Keeichiro Hirano, author of A Man (which I loved), tells the story of a classical guitarist and the reporter who falls in love with him. It’s a story of identity, honor, love, and duty. 


 

Fiction

 


This was the year Anthony Doerr published a novel after the wildly successful All the Light We Cannot See (2015). This one is entitled Cloud Cuckoo Land, and it is a very different book (and one his wife stopped him from throwing away at one point). It stretches across centuries – the time of the fall of Constantinople, contemporary Idaho, and sometime in the distant future. The book hasn’t had the sensational reception of his previous work, but it a rewarding story, with all the narrative threads brought together at the end.

 

Other novels I enjoyed include Iron Island by Gareth Griffin, a continuation of his early British history novels; Mildred’s Garden by Laura Boggess; The Sea by John Banville; The Frequency of Us by Keith Stuart; The Weight of Memory by Shawn Smucker; and Mr. Nicholas by Christopher de Vinck. Short story collections I liked include In the Wine Press by Joshua Hren; Scattered Lights by Steve Wiegenstein; and The Pieta in Ordinary Time by William Cook.

 

Top photograph by Gaelle Marcel via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Tuesday, December 1, 2020

Books I'm Not Recommending for Christmas


Each December, I publish my list of books I’m not recommending for Christmas. I could also call the list “the best books I read this year,” but I try not to press too hard on people as to what my ideas of what they should read. People can usually figure that out for themselves. Perhaps the real point of this is to look back at the year, and review the books that impressed me, challenged me, cheered me, and perhaps even changed me a little. 

Looking at this list, and comparing it to previous lists, I can see that I’m increasingly moving away from what’s popular or celebrated in the culture. You won’t find many bestsellers or national prizewinners here. You also won’t find much that is transiently popular – books that skyrocket to fame because they happened to be available when something notable happened – but soon disappear into the pile you keep in the basement because they’re no longer news.

 

Here it is, the 2020 edition of the books I’m not recommending for Christmas. I haven’t selected any as “No. 1” in their category; instead, I’ve grouped the handful of the best titles in each category in no particular order. Each are linked to my review either here at Faith, Fiction, Friends, at Dancing Priest, or at Tweetspeak Poetry.

 

Literary Criticism and Biography

 

You can find some really fine analyses and biographies of writers and poets. These are some of the best I read this year. I really, really liked Cross of Snow.

 

The Music of Time: Poetry in the Twentieth Century by John Burnside.

 

The Making of Poetry: Coleridge, Wordsworth, and Their Year of Marvels by Adam Nicolson.

 

Cross of Snow: A Life of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow by Nicholas Basbanes.

 

The Poet and the Fly: Art, Nature, God, Mortality, and Other Elusive Mysteries by Robert Hudson.

 

The Soul is a Stranger in This World: Essays on Poets and Poetry by Micah Mattix.

 

Tolkien’s Lost Chaucer by John Bowers

 

Poetry

 

I’ve loved poetry since elementary school, when we were required to memorize and recite poems (usually something like “The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere” by Longfellow. I found T.S. Eliot’s “Four Quartets” in high school. It made such a profound impact that I can even remember the bookshop where I bought it. And then poetry stuck throughout my career as (among other things) a speechwriter. 

 

Saudade: Poems by Nigel Kent.

 

Left Waiting: Poems by River Dixon.

 

HellWard: The English Elegies Vol. 1 by James Sale.

 

The Best Poems of Jane Kenyon, edited by Donald Hall.

 

Federico Garcia Lorca Blues: Poems by Justin Hamm.

 

Things My Mother Left Behind: Poems by Susan Richardson.

 

Railsplitter: Poems by Maurice Manning.

 

Andalusian Hours: Poemsfrom the Porch of Flannery O’Connor by Angela Alaimo O’Donnell.

 

When Your Phone Dies: A Hurricane in My Head by Matt Abbott.

 

Non-fiction and Memoir

 

On the Shoulders of Hobbits: The Road to Virtue with Tolkien and Lewis by Louis Markos.

 

Wilber Wilberforce: A Hero for Humanity by Kevin Belmonte.

 

Land of Hope: An Invitation to the Great American Story by Wilfred McClay.

 

Between Two Millstones, Vol. 1 by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn.

 

Borges and Me by Jay Parini.

 

The Art of the Commonplace: The Agrarian Essays of Wendell Berry, edited by Norman Wirzba.

 

What We’re Teaching Our Sons by Owen Booth.

 

Tough Issues, True Hope by Luke Davis.

 

General Fiction

 

I likely read more general fiction than anything else, most likely because I write it. Writing it gives you an appreciation for what fiction writers can do, where they fall short, and where they soar.

 

Ordinary Grace by William Kent Krueger.

 

The Old American Artist by Felipe Adan Lerma.

 

Stay by Catherine Ryan Hyde.

 

A Man by Keiichiro Hirano.

 

Waiting for Neruda’s Memoirs by Laura Boggess

 

Beautiful Sky Beautiful Sky by Stephen Parolini.

 

Mystery

 

I love mysteries; I loved reading them since I was a kid. This year, I read (or reread) all of the Philo Vance mysteries by S.S. Van Dine, which were wildly popular in the 1920s and gradually declined in popularity in the 1930s. The great Scribner’s editor Maxwell Perkins said Van Dine was the only author he never had to edit (unlike F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway, and Thomas Wolfe). Rather than list individual titles, I’ve listed authors of whom I’ve several works this year. Everything they write is good. The links will take you to the most recent review which will include a list of all of their works I’ve read and written about.

 

Roy Lewis – The Eric Ward Mysteries.

 

William Brodrick – The Father Anselm Mysteries.

 

Simon Michael – the Charles Holborn Legal Thrillers.

 

Jonathan Dunsky – the Adam Lapid Mysteries.

 

Fire in the Barley by Roger Longrigg.

 

Romance

 

Most romance novels are generally written according to a formula: Woman (or man) returns to hometown and rekindles romance with first love. Here are four that break away from that formula.

 

That Hollister Man by Margaret Desmond.

 

Peace in the Valley by Ruth Logan Herne.

 

His Father’s Son by Autumn Macarthur.

 

Hoping for Hawthorne by Tara Grace Miller.

 

Classics

 

Classic books don’t have to be by big-name authors. What defines a classic is that its influence (and popularity) lasts, or that it broke ground when it was published and still hasn’t been equaled. Here are a few I read this year.

 

The House of Seven Gables by Nathaniel Hawthorne.

 

Shakespeare of London by Marchette Chute.

 

The Crime Novels of Ruben Fonseca.

 

The Tell-Tale Heart: The Life and Works of Edgar Allen Poe by Julian Symon.

 

Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad.

 

Top photo by Jarred Craig via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Monday, August 31, 2020

“What We’re Teaching Our Sons” by Owen Booth


Owen Booth has done something interested with What We’re Teaching Our Sons. The title first suggested that this was a self-help book of some kind, aimed at fathers trying to raise sons in a society and culture that is a veritable mass of mixed signals and messages. Then I saw the endorsement by poet Luke Kennard, saying the book “reduced me to tears of laughter and painful recognition.” Self-help books don’t usually do that. 

Intrigued, I bought it and started reading. It took getting through only a few of the short chapters for me to realize that Booth is using the structure of fathers teaching sons (or not teaching them, as the case may be) to examine many of the events, subjects, themes, anxieties, thrills, disasters, and rhythms of everyday life that are our culture today. Booth is British, but what he writes about applies equally to the United States and I suspect most Western countries.

Some of the things being taught to sons are physical: the outdoors, whales, geology sport, mountains, and food, among others. Others are about relationships: women, heartbreak, ex-girlfriends, grandfathers, and teenage girls. There are entries on feelings, like empathy, guilt, crying, romance, nostalgia, and emotional literacy. Or mythical figures like pirates, Vikings, and the Abominable Snowman, and Martians. He includes dangers, like drowning, plane crashes, being struck by lightning, and spiders. And historical events like exploration of the South Pole. 

Owen Booth
And, yes, all of these subjects can, in their own strange way, affect and characterize the relationships between fathers and sons. In Booth’s hands, one does have to wonder whether it’s the fathers or the sons who are the adults in the room (the mothers usually know). But the book goes beyond whether or not you should teach your sons to climb trees (the answer is yes) to consider what weights modern society adds to what is already not the easiest of relationships and responsibilities.

Booth has experience here, being the father of two sons. He’s a writer and journalist and won the 2015 White Review Short Story Prize. His writings have been published in numerous magazines, anthologies, and literary journals. He and his family live in London. 

So if it’s important for your sons to know about gambling, food, books, crime, and glaciers, among a lot of other subjects, What We’re Teaching Our Sons can provide a road map that’s both insightful and wry. 

Tuesday, August 13, 2019

A Resource for Fiction Writers and Poets: “The Art of the Essay” – What?


I’ve found a new resource for fiction writers and poets. 

In The Art of the Essay: From Ordinary Life to Extraordinary WordsCharity Singleton Craig quotes Wendell Berry on writing. Berry is a poet, essayist, novelist, speaker, and, some would say, philosopher. I’ve read his poetry, several of his novels and short stories, and many of his articles, especially those on agriculture and farming. Throughout all of his writing, Berry is consistent, articulating a worldview of community and faith, and redemption and restoration.

Craig highlights Berry’s concerns about the loss of meaningful language, citing an essay he wrote as far back as 1979. Berry argues that the loss of meaningful language parallels the disintegration of community, and the only way to restore language is to choose words from “community speech.” Part of that restoration process is to “dismiss generalities because rarely is something all bad or all good.”

To continue reading, please see my post today at Tweetspeak Poetry.

Monday, August 5, 2019

“Justice on Trial” by Mollie Hemingway and Carrie Severino


In the fall of 2018, few things riveted the attention of Americans like the hearings on the confirmation of Brett Kavanaugh for the U.S. Supreme Court. The story unfolded with the high drama of a suspense novel, with unexpected twists and turns, heroes and villains, and a theme of the utter divisive ruthlessness that pervades American culture. 

Writing from a conservative but balanced perspective, Mollie Hemingway and Carrie Severino tell the story of what happened in Justice on Trial: The Kavanaugh Confirmation and the Future of the Supreme Court. Hemingway, senior editor at The Federalist, and Serevino, chief counsel and policy director for the Judicial Crisis Network, provide an in-depth researched and highly readable account of the nomination, hearings, and eventual confirmation of Judge Kavanaugh.

Mollie Hemingway
The retirement of Supreme Court Justice Anthony Kennedy lit the match. Kennedy was the sharply divided court’s pivot. For some cases, he joined the conservatives; in others, he joined the liberal or progressive justices. Within minutes of his retirement announcement and before the identity of the nominee was known, the battle was underway. 

Hemingway and Serevino provide extensive background on the various main players involved and the precursors to the fight over Kavanaugh, specifically the nominations of Robert Bork and Clarence Thomas. They examine how events unfolded, the role played by abortion, and the underlying mistrust by conservatives and centrist voters over what happens to supposedly conservative judges when they reach the court (or whether they were really conservative in the first place – Harry Blackmun, who wrote the Roe v. Wade opinion, was appointed by Richard Nixon; David Souter by George H.W. Bush; and Anthony Kennedy by Ronald Reagan). 

The Kavanaugh story is one with a lot of moving parts – history, politics, personalities, surprises, and more. The authors manage to keep the parts moving forward and together in a cohesive narrative. They detail the remarkable events that unfolded – The admission by U.S. Sen. Diane Feinstein that she had received the letter accusing Kavanaugh two months before the hearings started but didn’t mention it until it appeared Kavanaugh’s nomination was assured;  the sincerity of Christine Blasey Ford, who accused Kavanaugh of a sexual attack when they were teenagers; the jeremiad of U.S. Sen. Lindsey Graham against the Democratic senators on the Judiciary Committee; Brett Kavanaugh’s passionate defense; and the speech by U.S. Sen. Susan Collins of Maine, explaining why she was voting to confirm Kavanaugh.

Carrie Severino
We also see the less-than-remarkable events – attorney Michael Avenatti claiming he was representing a victim of Kavanaugh as well; the woman who claimed she had been attacked, only to backtrack and said she made her statement because she felt “empowered;” the details of the political machines on both sides of the controversy; and the less-than-journalistically-stellar performances by the national news media. 

While they reflect a conservative viewpoint, the authors are surprisingly fair, acknowledging missteps, exaggerations, and blatant lies on both sides. And they raise questions that need to be asked about the role of politics and the court, how court nominations have become weaponized, the role of due process of law, and other subjects important to the functioning of the U.S> government.

To read Justice on Trial is to relive the national trauma of the fall of 2018. It’s a hard story to read, but it goes to the heart of the beliefs and actions that are tearing at the fabric of national life.

Wednesday, June 5, 2019

"Living a Life of Yes" by David Rupert


I remember about four years ago when pictures of Jordan began showing up on David Rupert’s Facebook page. The famous ruins of Petra. Mount Nebo. The Jordan side of the Dead Sea. All scenes of sites well known from the Bible but not on the usual tour of the Holy Land. 

Rupert was there because he said yes. He had made a New Year’s resolution to say yes to every opportunity God put in front of him. The first one arrived four days later – an invitation from the Kingdom of Jordan to visit and write about the Christian sites in that country. 

It was the first time he said yes, but it wasn’t the last. And now he’s written a book: Living a Life of Yes: How One Word Can Change Everything

David Rupert
It’s an easy, engaging read, but it’s also thought-provoking – and heart-piercing. Rupert is a writer; his 9-to-5 job (which understates the actual hours) is as a strategic communication specialist. He knows how to write well, and he knows how to write to communicate well. And in Living a Life of Yes, he makes a convincing case.

Note that saying yes doesn’t mean saying yes to everything. It’s saying yes to “everything God puts in front of you.” Sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference, but Rupert gives practical, prayer-grounded advice on how to do that. When presented with that kind of opportunity, something more than “thoughts and prayers” is demanded, and he explains how to go beyond one of the tritest expressions in American culture today.

Through 12 chapters, he explains what happened to him when he said yes; how he overcame fear and doubts; how to get ready for changing the world (because that’s the size of the opportunity); the difficulties you can face when saying yes; and real-world examples of people living a life of yes. And he has a challenge: “There’s a time to read and hear about other people, and then there’s a time to be like those other people.”

In addition to his full-time job, Rupert leads Writers on the Rock, a large writing community based in Colorado. His articles have appeared in Christianity TodayReal LivingBreakpointThe High Calling, and other Christian and leadership publications, and he blogs at Patheos.org. He and his family live in Golden, Colorado.

So, consider Living a Life of Yes. Read it, but you need to do more than read it. 

Believe it. 

Do it.

Monday, December 12, 2016

Books I’m Not Recommending for Christmas Part 2


Part 2 of the books I’m not recommending for Christmas (see the explanation in Part 1) includes history and biography, general non-fiction, and poetry.

A note about the general non-fiction books listed: four of them (by Levin, Vance, Reno, and Metaxas). Although written before the presidential election, go a long way to explaining what happened on Nov. 8.

History and Biography


Tudors by Peter Ackroyd.


Dr. Johnson and Mr. Savage by Richard Holmes.






King John by Marc Morris.

General Non-fiction

The Fractured Republic by Yuval Levin.

Hillbilly Elegy by J.D. Vance.


A Long Way Home by Saroo Brierly.

If You Can Keep It by Eric Metaxas.

Pilgrim Wheels by Neil Hanson.

Poetry

Sentenced to Life by Clive James.

Where the Sky Opens by Laurie Klein.

American Barricade by Daniel Schoonebeek.

Poems by C.S. Lewis.

Ozone Journal by Peter Balakian.

The Joy of Poetry by Megan Willome.

Rapture and The Bees by Carol Ann Duffy.



Balancing Acts by Yahia Lababidi.

Mall Flower by Tina Barry.

Parable and Paradox by Malcom Guite.

Songs and Poems by Leonard Cohen.

Push Mountain Road by Pat Durmon.


Rain and Landing Light by Don Paterson.

The Light the Dead See by Frank Stanford.

Hagar Poems by Mohja Kahf.

Measures of Expatriation by Vahni Capildeo.

Related:



Photograph by Axelle B via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.