Saturday Good Reads

J. Alec Motyer didn’t have the name recognition of J.I. Packer, but his contributions to Christian theology were just as important. Terry Johnson recalls the influence of the man who died last week.

If you grew up (like I did) singing “Yankee Doodle” (much to my Confederate-sympathizing grandmother’s chagrin), you might be interested to learn what it actually meant.

In our recent August political primary here in Missouri, I couldn't figure out why George Soros bankrolled a candidate in the City of St. Louis attorney race. Politico has the explanation (and everyone worries about the Koch Brothers).

“The Monuments Men” was a fascinating movie about how a group of artists, art museum curators, and even a few art critics saved and helped repatriate countless artworks looted by the Nazis during World War II. There was another art hero – the director of the Louvre in Paris who had the vision to see what was coming, planned for it, and implemented the plan days ahead of the start of World War II in 1939. One of the works hidden successfully – in five different places – was the “Mona Lisa.”

An Orthodox church holds its last service, a young Christian calls for bringing back prayer meetings, a scientist argues why the public should mistrust science, some good poetry, and a fascinating look at London before the fire of 1666.

Life and Culture

The Macaroni in “Yankee Doodle’ is Not What You Think – Michael Waters at Atlas Obscura.

Why the Public Should Mistrust Science – Dr. Tom Hartsfield at Real Clear Science.

George Soros' quiet overhaul of the U.S. justice system - Scott Bland at Politico.

Faith

The Bestsellers: More than a Carpenter – Tim Challies at Informing the Reforming.

Did Gandalf Rescue Evangelicals? – Samuel D. James.

Bring Back the Church Prayer Meeting – Megan Hill at The Gospel Coalition.

An Orthodox Story Ends – Rod Dreher at American Conserrvative.

J. Alec Motyer: A Personal Remembrance – Terry Johnson at Reformation 21.

Writing

Doing the Work: Math and Science for Writers – Charity Craig.

Work

Learning About Vocation – Dr. Steven Garber at The Washington Institute.

Art and Photography

How the 'Mona Lisa' Escaped Destruction During World War II – Mental Floss.

Poetry

A poem is a poem is a poem – Mary Harwell Sayler at The Poetry Editor.

Dear Weeping Jeremiah – Tim Good at Pics, Poems, and Ponderings.

Take, Strike, and Speak – John Blase at The Beautiful Due.

London Before the Fire of 1666 – Pudding Lane Productions

Painting: Man reading newspaper, oil on canvas by Vincent Van Gogh.

A song from the sea

I walked through the mountains

and I was seeking my fame

and I was seeking my name

and I looked in the river

and I was seeking my face

and I was seeing my face

And I walked through the forests

and I was seeking my name

and I was seeking my fame

And the tall trees spoke to me

they were weeping my name

they were weeping my fame

and the crows flew over me

and the winds passed around me

as I was looking for my name

as I was looking for my fame

and I danced before the mast

and I danced before the storm

and the ship flew onward

as it sailed across the sea

I danced beside my coffin

I danced beside my wreath

the crows flew onward

as I sailed across the sea

but I never found my name

but I never found my fame

and the ship sailed onward

and it sailed across the sea

In late August, the Tweetspeak Poetry staff and some of the T.S. Poetry authors met at French Lick, Indiana. One evening was devoted to reading poetry and an informal concert. We heard Tania Runyan on the fiddle, Laura Lynn Brown on the flute, and Laurie Klein on the guitar. They played Irish and Scot music, and it was difficult to keep from dancing (some of us danced, and some of us watched). Two of the songs they played were “Da Full Rigged Ship” and “Da New Rigged Ship,” Scottish reels that are typically played together. The above is one of the songs (or poems) I wrote as I listened to the music.

Wailing Banshees: Da Full Rigged Ship / Da New Rigged Ship

Photograph by Linnaea Mallette via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.

A Dickens Mystery – and Jack the Ripper

More than a century after the passing of the Victorian era, we still find ourselves fascinated with the period and the people who were the Victorians. In literary culture, no one represented the age like Charles Dickens did. In popular or mass culture, no event captured the interest of the Victorians themselves and generations to follow like that of Jack the Ripper.

Two recent publications give us windows into the period and, by extension, to our own times.

Dickens is known for his novels, but he was also a magazine publisher and often would write the contents of a particular issue himself. In 1859, he wrote and published what can only be called a detective story, Hunted Down. The story is set with the life insurance industry.

Mr. Sampson, a manager with the Life Assurance Company, observes a visitor to the office one day, one Julius Slinkton (you have to love the names Dickens came up with for his characters, especially the villains). Slinkton is seeking forms for a life insurance policy for a friend and business acquaintance, having promised the man’s mother and sister that he would make sure their son and brother obtained life insurance. Mr. Sampson, even while not speaking directly with Slinkton, takes an instant dislike to the man.

Soon he learns that one of Slinkton’s wards, a niece, died after a lingering illness. He still has legal responsibility for her sister, who also seems to be ailing. From there, the game’s afoot.

Hunted Down has a curiously contemporary feel to it, and it’s fascinating that Dickens wrote what is a detective story (he was good friends with mystery writer Wilkie Collins). And it’s an entertaining story.

And then, there’s the Ripper.

Alexander Kennedy is the author of several short biographies on such famous political, cultural, and scientific figures as Albert Einstein, Franklin Roosevelt, John F. Kennedy, Walt Disney and Richard Nixon, among others. In Jack the Ripper: A Life of Crime – The True Story of Jack the Ripper, he tackles a different subject entirely.

There have been worse serial killers, but few have the fascination of Jack the Ripper. For about three months in 1888, the man dubbed the Ripper killed five women in London’s east side, particularly the slum area known as Whitechapel. Four of the five victims were prostitutes; one was not, but may have been trying to get an exclusive story as to the Ripper’s identity.

The account contains little new information; what it does is concisely summarize what actually happened, the various paths of the police investigations, the social context for the crimes, what is known about each of the victims, the origins of criminal profiling, and who the prime suspects were. And suspects continue to be fingered – even during the last 20 to 30 years, a grandson of Queen Victoria and author Lewis Carroll have been added to the list of possibilities (yes, the list includes some farfetched names).

Jack the Ripper is a quick, succinct read, a good introduction to the story of five crimes that still fascinates today.

Top photograph: Dorset Street in Whitechapel, late 19^th century. The fifth victim of Jack the Ripper had a room just off this street.