Angela’s Ashes by Frank McCourt

Read: 23 January, 2013

When I look back on my childhood I wonder how I managed to survive at all. It was, of course, a miserable childhood: the happy childhood is hardly worth your while. Worse than the ordinary miserable childhood is the miserable Irish childhood, and worse yet is the miserable Irish Catholic childhood.

Angela’s Ashes is a memoir of Francis McCourt’s childhood, first as a young child to Irish parents in America, and then growing into adulthood in Limerick, Ireland. It’s a childhood of extreme poverty, and all of consequences of that.

It’s a brutal book, and it never lets up. Several reviewers have called the book a “laundry list of the terrible things that happen to the McCourt family,” and in many ways that’s pretty accurate. The happiest moments of the novel, when little Frankie forms a connection with two separate girls, end with those girls dying. Yeah, that’s the kind of book this is.

I quite liked the writing style. I know that there are many who found it irritating, but the short sentences gave it that breathlessness that children get when telling a story. For me, this served to reflect the narrator’s youth during the events of the book, and it heightened its impact.

In some ways, given how relentlessly depressing the book is, I kept expecting it to get worse. Every time Frankie was alone with a priest, I thought “oh no, this is where it happens…” But, thankfully, it never does.

One thing that impressed upon me as I was reading was Frankie’s vulnerability and passivity. Even as an adult, when he’s finally making decisions for himself and leaving Ireland, he has very little say in what happens to him. Though bound for New York, the boat captain simply decides to go to Albany instead and he is forced to come along. When they make a stop and a woman decides to have sex with him, he can do little other than lie down and accept her advances. He may enjoy it and be glad it happened, but it’s still something that happens to him.

It was a frustrating read, of course, as so many of the problems stem from the father’s alcoholism, the mother’s complacency, and the lack of knowledge of both. But all the characters – even the father who takes his dole money to the pub while his children starve at home – are treated with such compassion that it’s hard to feel anything other than pity for the whole family.

It’s a wonderful book full of interesting characters and funny moments and sadness… It would have been so easy for McCourt to write with anger, to lay blame with the various individual choices, institutions, and the sexism that cause nearly all of the suffering he describes. But instead, he merely relays his experiences and we are left to draw our own complicated conclusions.

I highly recommend reading Angela’s Ashes. Just remember to keep tissues handy.

Buy Angela’s Ashes from Amazon and support this blog!

The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher by Kate Summerscale

Read: 16 March, 2012

The Road Hill House murder shocked Victorian England. The crime itself was brutal, of course, but what really shook the foundation of Victorian assumptions about social class and safety was that the murder took place in an otherwise ordinary middle class household and that the murder was evidently one of its inmates.

The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher follows the investigation of the murder and its aftermath, focusing on the lives of the Kent family and on Mr. Whicher, the detective, himself.

Summerscale does an amazing job of contextualising the murder and its aftermath. While she does go a little overboard in painting the Road Hill murder as the catalyst for change in Victorian society, she does at least make her argument rather convincing. Her writing style is approachable even for those unfamiliar with the era, and her frequent mentions of books and historical figures added extra fun to the reading for me because it brought back so many of my lessons from when I studied Victorian literature in university.

I highly recommend Mr. Whicher if you have an interest in the Victorian era, issues surrounding the interaction of law enforcement and privacy, or simply enjoy mysteries and want a little more background on real life detectives.

Buy The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher on Amazon to support this blog!

The Duggars: 20 and Counting! by Michelle and Jim Bob Duggar

Read: 16 January, 2012

My great challenge in writing this review is to critique the book itself, not the faith that motivates it. The two are so intertwined that sometimes it’s impossible to speak of one without speaking of the other. This book is, after all, part of the Duggar ministry.

This is never more clear than the structure of the book. Superficially, it chronicles the history of the Duggar family, from Michelle and Jim Bob’s childhoods until just before the birth of their 18th child. But the stories are told in such a way as to reinforce the thesis of their ministry: In each case, there is a problem or a crisis, the Duggars react by either “listening to God” or listening to their fears, or greed, or ambition, and then things suddenly and serendipitously resolve.

The lesson, of course, is that God can be counted upon to provide. This has the potential to be very dangerous theology, as we see in Prosperity theology, but at least the Duggars impose limitations, such as refusing to borrow money. Even so, this “leave it to God” attitude has a lot of potential for harm when they follow it to the point of making themselves responsible for 18 children. The Duggars have done well for themselves, but many Quiverfull families haven’t, living well below the poverty line and denying their children basic necessities such as health and dental care. To make matters worse, the repetition that God will provide if the family puts sufficient trust in him implicitly sends the message that those families that are not surviving are failing because they are not putting sufficient trust in God, which would mean that they should give up more control and have more children…

I also noticed that the Duggars have tried to fit parts of their story into a Biblical narrative, such as Jim Bob’s references to the sacrifice of Isaac by Abraham as analogous to his political campaign. It isn’t bludgeoning, as I’ve seen elsewhere, but they certainly are speaking to their audience.

Further on that point, I noticed a lot of formulaic phrasing. These are phrases included in the narrative, ostensibly in the voice of Jim Bob or Michelle, but that are repeated frequently (either in the book itself or in the wider evangelical community, or both). For example, the words “Children are a blessing from the Lord” is repeated, without variation, multiple times and integrated into multiple different sentences. I’ve noticed the family use these little phrases in the TV show as well, and it’s always felt scripted and rehearsed, making the family seem insincere.

Speaking of the TV show, I feel that I can’t talk about the book without comparing it to the show (of which I’ve only watched the 18 and Counting season, which overlapped nicely with much of the topics discussed in the book). To its credit, this book never felt like just another TV show tie in. Rather, it had real content and was entirely readable even for families that do not have a television and have never seen the show – which I imagine was intentional given the Duggars’ TV viewing philosophy.

I found the differences between the TV show and the book interesting, and it speaks to just how media savvy the Duggars are. The TV show, clearly intended for a broader audience, focuses on the fuzzy family happiness. God is ever present, but more as an underlying principle. The goal, clearly, is to make the show interesting for “lukewarm Christians,” drawing them into the lifestyle with promises of the happy, close-knit family, without scaring them off with too much God-talk. The book, on the other hand, is clearly marketed at the converted, perhaps young couples who already hold Quiverfull values but who are afraid of taking that next big step. I imagine that this book is intended to be passed around in churches, recommended to new couples or given to new parents. As a result, the God-talk is front and centre, with every story coming back to God and to the Biblical underpinnings of Duggar theology. If the TV show is the infomercial, the book is the hard sell.

But given this, I found it interesting that any Biblical passages references were hidden away in the end notes, not displayed in the actual pages either as footnotes or embedded in the text. Given the audience and the fact that the Duggars are clearly not holding back on the God-talk in other ways, I found this detail very interesting.

In closing, I would like to share a recent post written by Libby Anne that was running through my mind as I read: From cog to individual.

The Duggars: 2o and Counting! was a better read than I expected, and it was interesting for me because of my interest in the Quiverfull movement. But the advice is all tied to the ministry, so don’t bother if you are looking for real tips for managing your household! The recipes provided, while interesting and great for bulk cooking, look awful and have very low nutritional value. Much of their advice for making money or being frugal relied on tales of their good luck (err… good “faith,” as Jim Bob prefers to call it), and many of their organizational tips are good but require substantial remodling of the average home to accommodate. In other words, I’d recommend this book for people with an interest in the movement, whether they are thinking of joining it or merely studying it. For anyone else, meh.

Buy The Duggars: 20 and Counting! from Amazon to support this blog!

Empress by Shan Sa

Read: 20 July, 2010

Empress Wu tells the reader about her childhood in one of China’s impoverished but still noble clans, growing up a concubine of the emperor, and finally of becoming empress herself. This is the story of a bird locked in a golden cage, of lavish surroundings that fail to mask captivity, of the boredom and murderous competition of a small city of women all fighting to win the gaze of a single man.

The novel’s protagonist, Empress Wu (or Heavenlight), is a fairly complex character who is not always particularly likeable. She is in survival mode; even when she rules as empress, she must contend with assassination attempts and the ever present threat of failing health. This is a novel about a woman whose entire being is tied to the approval of men, and the suddenness with which fortunes can change through factors entirely out of her control.

Sa did an excellent job of painting the picture of a world that is at once rich and beautiful, yet brutal and cruel. I found it to be an interesting and well-written novel. It’s an easy read, although not always a pleasant one. This is a great novel to read if you happen to come across it, though I wouldn’t bother going too far out of your way to get it.

Buy Empress from Amazon to support this blog!

Welsh Princes #1: Here Be Dragons by Sharon Kay Penman

Read: 18 March, 2010

Joanna, King John’s illigitimate daughter, is married to prince Llywelyn Fawr of Wales to secure an alliance. But John didn’t count on his daughter falling in love. When the relations between the two men start to deteriorate, Joanna is caught between her love for her father and her love for her husband.

As Wikipedia points out, one of the draws of Here Be Dragons is that it’s virgin territory; there are very few novels out there about historical Wales and, I confess, it was a milieu that I knew almost nothing about.

The historical aspects of the novel were fabulous, but it did occasionally cross into the territory of romance. Fair enough, I realize that many do like that sort of thing, but I found it rather boring and frustrating. Apparently, it’s a staple of the romance genre that people who are in love absolutely refuse to communicate with each other and, instead, simply assume the worst of the other person. I’ll never understand how this sort of thing came to be called “love” in our culture, but there you have it.

I realize that I’m not one to complain given how wooden and choppy my own writing style is, but I found Penman’s style in this book to be rather difficult to read. She has the awful tendency to force what should have been several sentences into one, joining them awkwardly. For example, she writes: “He even tried to forget the atrocity stories that were so much a part of his heritage, tales of English conquest and cruelties.” It works fine for effect now and then, but she uses it nearly every other sentence!

The book is meticulously researched and Penman is able to really bring the setting to life. The story, although about a class that is all-but extinct living lives that are so unlike anything we are familiar with, is, at the same time, very accessible. The conflict of allegiance between one’s parents and one’s spouse is something that I think most readers would be able to sympathize with.

Despite it’s flaws, I’d put Here Be Dragons as one of the better historical fiction novels on the market, well worth the read for anyone interested in the Middle Ages.

Buy Here Be Dragons from Amazon to support this blog!

Continue reading

Godless by Dan Barker

Read: 5 March, 2011

Godless has been on my reading list for a very long time, but I somehow never got around to it. Finally, bored with a long string of novels and wanting to read something a bit different, I took it out of the library.

I got about a quarter of the way through before I realized that I had to own a copy – a copy I could mark up and keep forever and ever and ever (and possibly hug, pet, and name George). Yes, the book is that good. So I ordered a copy and then started back at page one, highlighter in hand.

The book is part autobiography and part argument in favour of Atheism (or, mostly, against Christianity), written by a former Evangelical preacher. It’s divided into four parts: part one describes Barker’s life as a Christian and part four describes his life as an Atheist, with the two middle chunks giving his arguments for transitioning from one to the other. It’s at once a deeply personal novel, the story of one man’s deconversion and his experiences, while at the same time serving the same general anti-theist and pro-atheist purpose as other Gnu Atheist books.

Richard Dawkins wrote the forward to the book, which was something of a shame. As much as I loved The God Delusion, Dawkins was never really a Christian – at least not in the same way that Barker was – and his perspective is just too different. As a result, he came at religion hard in his four allotted pages. He did this in his general anger towards the “tyrant,” filled with justified indignity, but lacking the personal experience and scriptural knowledge that Barker would follow with. I found that it didn’t strike the right chord for the book, and it really didn’t contribute anything.

As I said earlier, Part One describes life as an Evangelical (and the deconversion experience that follows). In this section, Barker describes his beliefs as a Christian, trying to recapture and convey the feelings and ideas from the awkward position of now finding them ridiculous. This awkwardness actually made the section an even more enjoyable read, as Barker peppers his descriptions of his Christian life with hilarious (although at times rather sad) commentary.

Part Two was a weak point in the book for me. Barker tackled some of the more common arguments for God put forward by theologians (the ontological argument, Pascal’s Wager, etc). Unfortunately, this has the effect of taking these arguments seriously – something that no one over the age of about four should be doing (I mean, really: “We can imagine a god, therefore God exists”? “Everything requires a cause, therefore there must be an uncaused first cause”? Good grief!). I also found that some of Barker’s counter-arguments didn’t make much sense to me, lacking in some logical steps. That being said, I fully admit to the possibility that the arguments on both sides might simply be over my head.

This section did include a chapter, entitled “Dear Theologian” which was written as a first-person letter from God to theologians. While it suffered from the same defects as the rest of Part Two, I did find the approach to be rather unique and interesting in its playfulness. It was certainly a novel way to present some of the common Atheist complaints!

Part Three focused on Christianity, and this is where Barker really shines as a contribution to the Atheist movement! This whole section was incredibly quote-heavy, as Barker drew from his in-depth knowledge of the Bible to offer up contradictions, moral issues, etc. It was so much more grounded and scripture-based than what I’ve read from other Atheists and I managed to run straight through two highlighters.

And finally, Part Four returns to Barker’s personal experiences as he describes life as an Atheist. This section was quite a bit less interesting than Part One, lacking the same self-deprecating humour. Much of it read like a laundry list of the Freedom From Religion Foundation‘s accomplishments, which I I found rather tiresome. The chapter “Life and Death Matters” returned to some much more interesting philosophizing, although I have to say that, being pregnant, I could have done without his story about Annie Laurie Gaylor suffering from eclampsia.

I’ve been pretty hard on Godless, and there were certainly large portions that I ended up skimming, but the book as a whole is well worth the read! I’ve said this a couple times now, but I found it so much more targeted than other Atheist books I’ve read – Barker is writing from a position of insider knowledge of Christianity, and he’s coming in armed with quotes. It felt as though he already knew all the objections, and he could address them preemptively. Authors like Dawkins and Harris have been great from a high-level, general criticism of religion perspective, but Barker is far more of an authority on Christianity. I found this incredibly valuable and interesting.

Buy Godless: How an Evangelical Preacher Became One of America’s Leading Atheists from Amazon to support this blog!

Marley & Me by John Grogan

Read: 17 December, 2008

Entertaining, funny, sweet, and sad – but with no real substance. Marley & Me gives a nice snapshot into just over a decade of a couple’s life, from the time they get a new puppy, through the experience of having children, a new job, and moving to an entirely different part of the country, until the dog’s eventual death. It’s a sweet story and the writing language is quite good (more on that in a second), but there’s no real meat to the story.

The closest Grogan gets to adding a layer to his story is the idea that he could learn from Marley about how to live his own life. However, while this is mentioned a few times throughout the story (yes, he does come to the same epiphany at least twice), it never seems to have any impact on his life. He learns, but he never applies. And as far as epiphanies go, it’s not even a really good one. It’s fairly standard Hollywood comedy fare (“look, that guy is so crazy, man is he ever crazy! Hey, you know what? He really enjoys his life! Maybe I should be a little crazy too! But not really… not like him, anyway.”).

My other complaint is that the book is rather repetitive at times. It’s almost as though Grogan thought of two really great ways to say what he wanted to say – so rather than choose the best, he just stuck both in.

And finally, I didn’t really approve of the way the Grogan family treated Marley. I think we’ve all gotten a pet before fully realizing what that pet entails. However, I feel that they dealt with it poorly. The worst example of this would be putting the aged and dying (not to mention terrified of kennels) dog into a kennel while the family goes to Disneyland. It strikes me as unbelievably selfish. If they really considered Marley to be part of the family, they would have either waited until Marley was gone or found some way to accomodate his needs during their absence (especially considering Marley’s history with kennels).

The part that really gets to me is that the narrator doesn’t seem to have any sense whatsoever that going to Disneyland at such a time might have been selfish or harmful to his dog. The title refers to Marley as the “world’s worst dog,” and that gets to the heart of the problem: never does Grogan acknowledge that he may have made poor choices in the care of his dog. If Marley rips his nails out and breaks his teeth because he’s in a panic about being locked in a garage during a lightening storm, it’s because Marley’s a bad dog. It’s sad, and I think it’s indicative of a culture that treats animals as possessions and objects while simultaneously paying lip service to the idea that they are “part of the family.”

Other than that, the book is an entertaining read. It’s like watching TV – it’s a nice way to pass an afternoon, but it leaves me feeling still hungry at the end.

Buy Marley & Me from Amazon to support this blog!

Lady of Ch’iao Kuo by Laurence Yep

Read: 12 December, 2008

This book is part of Scholastic’s Royal Diaries series. I picked this book up at a second-hand sale my University was hosting. Having never heard of the author or the series, I was sold entirely by the cover art (which is absolutely beautiful and quite possibly the best part of the book – maybe I can just frame it?).

Overall, I found it to be an interesting read. The concepts of being forced to grow up and being responsible for many people despite having no experience kept me turning the pages. Unfortunately, they weren’t really fleshed out. I also noticed a few continuity errors – for example, Redbird’s father decides that she will act as the translator when they talk to the Chinese, but then he goes to the Chinese without taking her along. This seems to happen for no reason other than to be able to kill off the father without having to hurt Redbird (or have her experience battle before the climax).

There were also some descriptions that may have been anachronistic, such as referring to the army as a “machine.” I’m sure they had machines of some sort or another back then, but would she have seen them? More importantly, would she have had enough exposure to machines to think of such a description? It’s a small detail, one that I might easily have passed over without noticing. It’s just that the book is so full with these little things that it bogs the story down.

Finally, I just felt that the author wasn’t very good at writing in the diary style. We’re never told why she starts writing the diary (something that modern little girls living in an age where paper and ink are both cheap and plentiful might not need a reason for). And then there’s the way she describes things… The narrative just feels very objective and detail-oriented, while perhaps missing some of the details that would have been important to her. It didn’t feel like a diary, but rather a third person narrative crammed into a first person diary format.

All that being said, I still finished it and I did still enjoy reading it. I just feel disappointed because the story deserved a much better treatment than it received.

Buy Lady of Ch’iao Kuo: Warrior of the South, Southern China A.D. 531 (The Royal Diaries) from Amazon to support this blog!

Infidel by Ayaan Hirsi Ali

Read: 20 October, 2008

Ayaan Hirsi Ali’s story is one of extraordinary courage. Growing up in a culture that is oppressive to women, Hirsi Ali first tries to find her sense of self in religion – trying to find the freedom she sought through Allah. The tipping point occurs when an arranged marriage sends her out of Africa and into Europe where, like a bird that has suddenly realized its cage door is wide open, she flies to Holland and seeks refugee status and, finally, comes to terms with the atheism that had been growing in her from her earliest days.

The novel is divided into two parts. The first part is devoted to her childhood in Somalia, Saudi Arabia, and Kenya. I say her “childhood” even though she remained her twenties because the culture as she describes it kept women as children, stiffling their intellectual growth. I think Hirsi Ali would be the first to agree with my use of the term. The second part of her biography opens with her arrival in Europe and subsequent cultivation of her Self.

These two parts are different in more than just content. The first shows a vulnerable girl, a child ruled over by her parents, culture, and religion. Though she does defy the authorities of her life at times, she is by and large kept as a victim. In the second part, we see her as an active participant in her life (despite the regression she suffers after the death of Theo van Gogh). Because of this, these two parts feel very differently. I found the first to be intensely powerful and emotional, frequently reducing me to tears and causing me to sleep quite poorly for a few nights! I think this is the first book that has affected me quite so deeply since childhood. The second part is far more intellectual, an exposé of the conclusions Hirsi Ali has drawn from her experiences. The reading was much slower from that point on, but no less satisfying.

Though I can’t say that I agree with every idea Hirsi Ali espouses, she certainly manages to provide a convincing and rational case for them. My mind was certainly changed on a number of issues. This is a book that satisfies on a great many levels. Though I feel that many (of all faiths and from every end of the political spectrum) may be offended by Hirsi Ali’s writings, Infidel is well worth reading. Hirsi Ali is unguarded as she speaks her mind and this is a rare quality. I recommend that everyone read it and digest it slowly. You may not agree with her conclusions, but you can only benefit from having read them.

Buy Infidel from Amazon to support this blog!

Stupeur et Tremblement [Fear and Trembling] by Amélie Nothomb

Read: 6 November, 2007

The story is fairly simple. A Belgian woman was born in Japan and returns in her early twenties to work in a large shipping company. Once there, she discovers a rigid code of conduct that demands she suppress her individuality and intelligence for the company. The autobiographical story is a fairly short and simple read. It is alternately thought-provoking and comical.

The story’s greatest strength lies in its characterisations. The narrator and her boss, Mori Fubuki, receive the most attention in this respect, but the pictures Nothomb paints of the other characters are equally enchanting and, at times, frightening.

Buy Stupeur Et Tremblements from Amazon to support this blog!