Compromising Positions, by Jenna Bayley-Burke
I don't normally read romances. This was another Kindle freebie. As of today, this breezy, easy, steamy read ranks as the most popular free Kindle book on Amazon.com.
I don't have much to say about the story itself, just that it made me think about the differences between men and women when it comes to romance and sexual fantasy. While it's difficult to generalize about the sexes, and still worse to generalize about a genre based on reading single book, I came away from reading this realizing that while men might fantasize about passionate sex with a beautiful woman, women fantasize about passionate sex with a handsome man who is tall, rich, emotionally available, nearly perfect yet flawed in a way that she can fix, with prospects of marriage and children down the road.
Paperback: 248 pages
Publisher: Samhain Publishing (January 5, 2010)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1605043125
ISBN-13: 978-1605043128
Showing posts with label fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fiction. Show all posts
Edge of Apocalypse
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20.9.10
Edge of Apocalypse, by Tim LaHaye and Craig Parshall
After reading Marcus Borg's Putting Away Childish Things it seemed appropriate to immediately read an evangelical didactic novel and see where the contrasts were the most stark. In this regard Edge of Apocalypse, the latest by Tim LaHaye, did not disappoint.
As an aside I must admit that I didn't go out looking to read this book, but it dropped into my lap serendipitously. I recently purchased a Kindle, and Amazon has been giving away free ebook versions of many popular romance and Christian novels. Edge of Apocalypse was a freebie.
Borg and LaHaye paint startlingly different pictures of the world in which we live, flowing from their different theological and philosophical convictions. Borg's novel is set primarily in a small Midwestern university town, with a religious studies professor as the main character. LaHaye's novel is country and world-spanning, with a military hero turned defense contractor and entrepreneur in the starring role.
Borg's world is tranquil and self-reflective. The most valued traits his characters possess are the ability to reason through a problem, using a combination of intellect, study, prayer, relationships, community, and spiritual practices to slowly yet comprehensively work through a problem, discerning the best solution. God doesn't intervene in a supernatural or miraculous way, but is instead seen as working through the discernment process and through the hearts, minds, hands, and feet of people within the community.
LaHaye's world is apocalyptic. Time is running out. The most valued traits his characters possess are the ability to quickly make judgments in a crisis, determine right from wrong, then act decisively on the side of what is right. There is no such thing as random chance or coincidence in LaHaye's world. Instead the characters interpret such things as evidence of answered prayer and God's supernatural intervention on this side of God's people and what is right. While technical and logistical complexity exists in LaHaye's universe, his characters never struggle with complex moral issues. Moral choices are always crystal clear.
One of the things I found most telling about the two authors were the way they handled characters meant to represent their ideological opposition. For Borg this was the evangelical youth group leader and some of the members of his flock. For LaHaye this was represented by the Vice President in a U.S. administration dedicated to an internationalist foreign policy opposed by the main character. Inevitably in a didactic novel the author's side wins the argument. However I felt that Borg's opposing characters were faithful if simplified representations of the other viewpoint. They were still good people that meant well even if they were "wrong." LaHaye, on the other hand, felt the need to paint all opposing characters as evil and nefarious, above and beyond just opposing his ideology. Maybe this is part and parcel of the apocalyptic world view --is it possible to have sympathetic "bad guys" in an apocalyptic story?
In the end, I'd much rather live in Marcus Borg's literary, theological, and philosophical universe. For me his vision is far more sustaining --"good for you," if you will. Yet the appeal of Tim LaHaye's literary world is not lost on me. Edge of Apocalypse was an exciting page-turner and much more interesting to read than Borg's novel, but more like a spiritual bag of potato chips than good nourishing food.
Hardcover: 432 pages
Publisher: Zondervan (April 20, 2010)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0310326281
After reading Marcus Borg's Putting Away Childish Things it seemed appropriate to immediately read an evangelical didactic novel and see where the contrasts were the most stark. In this regard Edge of Apocalypse, the latest by Tim LaHaye, did not disappoint.
As an aside I must admit that I didn't go out looking to read this book, but it dropped into my lap serendipitously. I recently purchased a Kindle, and Amazon has been giving away free ebook versions of many popular romance and Christian novels. Edge of Apocalypse was a freebie.
Borg and LaHaye paint startlingly different pictures of the world in which we live, flowing from their different theological and philosophical convictions. Borg's novel is set primarily in a small Midwestern university town, with a religious studies professor as the main character. LaHaye's novel is country and world-spanning, with a military hero turned defense contractor and entrepreneur in the starring role.
Borg's world is tranquil and self-reflective. The most valued traits his characters possess are the ability to reason through a problem, using a combination of intellect, study, prayer, relationships, community, and spiritual practices to slowly yet comprehensively work through a problem, discerning the best solution. God doesn't intervene in a supernatural or miraculous way, but is instead seen as working through the discernment process and through the hearts, minds, hands, and feet of people within the community.
LaHaye's world is apocalyptic. Time is running out. The most valued traits his characters possess are the ability to quickly make judgments in a crisis, determine right from wrong, then act decisively on the side of what is right. There is no such thing as random chance or coincidence in LaHaye's world. Instead the characters interpret such things as evidence of answered prayer and God's supernatural intervention on this side of God's people and what is right. While technical and logistical complexity exists in LaHaye's universe, his characters never struggle with complex moral issues. Moral choices are always crystal clear.
One of the things I found most telling about the two authors were the way they handled characters meant to represent their ideological opposition. For Borg this was the evangelical youth group leader and some of the members of his flock. For LaHaye this was represented by the Vice President in a U.S. administration dedicated to an internationalist foreign policy opposed by the main character. Inevitably in a didactic novel the author's side wins the argument. However I felt that Borg's opposing characters were faithful if simplified representations of the other viewpoint. They were still good people that meant well even if they were "wrong." LaHaye, on the other hand, felt the need to paint all opposing characters as evil and nefarious, above and beyond just opposing his ideology. Maybe this is part and parcel of the apocalyptic world view --is it possible to have sympathetic "bad guys" in an apocalyptic story?
In the end, I'd much rather live in Marcus Borg's literary, theological, and philosophical universe. For me his vision is far more sustaining --"good for you," if you will. Yet the appeal of Tim LaHaye's literary world is not lost on me. Edge of Apocalypse was an exciting page-turner and much more interesting to read than Borg's novel, but more like a spiritual bag of potato chips than good nourishing food.
Hardcover: 432 pages
Publisher: Zondervan (April 20, 2010)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0310326281
Putting Away Childish Things
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22.7.10
Putting Away Childish Things: A Tale of Modern Faith, by Marcus Borg
I've long been a fan of Marcus Borg's scholarship. His non-fiction not only speaks to issues I find important, but is clearly written and easily accessible to a broad audience. If there was a single book I'd recommend to give people insight into what I think are the most important issues in Christianity and what it means to be a person of faith in the 21st century, it would be Borg's The Heart of Christianity: Rediscovering a Life of Faith.
Nonetheless, it was with some trepidation that I picked up Putting Away Childish Things, Marcus Borg's first novel, and a didactic novel at that. Growing up fundamentalist, I had read evangelical didactic works such as The Sugar Creek Gang, (boys having fun while converting their friends and families) The Third Millennium , (end times novel where rapture happens in 1994), This Present Darkness (demons, angels, and spiritual warfare), and of course the Left Behind juggernaut. Big questions I had going in: what does a progressive Christian didactic novel look like? Can there be a didactic novel that is actually worth reading, with characters you actually care about and doesn't get bogged down in preachiness?
I think Borg largely succeeds here. His story of an Episcopalian religious studies professor at a Midwestern liberal arts college was the perfect backdrop for interjecting theological and scholarly content in a way that didn't seem too jarring or unnatural to the story. The story was well plotted. While the characters seemed more cerebral than average people, they were reasonably well drawn and plausible. I especially appreciated that the evangelical characters in the story did not seem to be mere straw men, and in the end I truly cared about the characters and what happened to them. On the other hand, some may find the book to have a lecture-like quality at certain points. This may be unavoidable since the book aims to teach a large amount of information in relatively few pages, while trying to entertain at the same time.
This book is not the best novel I've ever read by far, but it is the best didactic novel I've ever read. Not just because I happen to agree with the message, but also because it presents its message strongly without demonizing other points of view (a flaw in just about ever other didactic work I've read.) I think Borg has made a great contribution by putting progressive theology and historical critical biblical scholarship into a format that might make it more accessible to people who would never read a non-fiction book. Putting Away Childish Things made me realize what a dearth of instructional fiction there is for progressive Christianity, and how bringing these ideas down to the mass-market level might allow progressive Christians to go head-to-head with their evangelical and fundamentalist brethren.
Beyond story, and beyond theological content, however, where the book truly shines is when it shows us how a modern faith actually works in practice. How does prayer, devotion, dealing with life's troubles and anxiety actually work for liberal and progressive Christians whose view of the supernatural and scripture is not fundamentalist? In every evangelical didactic novel I've read there has been a point or points in the story where God dramatically intervenes in a stunning and miraculous way --a type of modern day deus ex machina to solve the conflict and reinforce the literalistic worldview of the story. Putting Away Childish Things, in keeping with its message, doesn't do this. Yet one can still say that God is at work in what happens in the lives of the characters in this story; showing that God can be real and active for Christians that aren't fundamentalist may be the most necessary contribution this story makes.
Hardcover: 352 pages
Publisher: HarperOne (April 20, 2010)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0061888141
ISBN-13: 978-0061888144
I've long been a fan of Marcus Borg's scholarship. His non-fiction not only speaks to issues I find important, but is clearly written and easily accessible to a broad audience. If there was a single book I'd recommend to give people insight into what I think are the most important issues in Christianity and what it means to be a person of faith in the 21st century, it would be Borg's The Heart of Christianity: Rediscovering a Life of Faith.
Nonetheless, it was with some trepidation that I picked up Putting Away Childish Things, Marcus Borg's first novel, and a didactic novel at that. Growing up fundamentalist, I had read evangelical didactic works such as The Sugar Creek Gang, (boys having fun while converting their friends and families) The Third Millennium , (end times novel where rapture happens in 1994), This Present Darkness (demons, angels, and spiritual warfare), and of course the Left Behind juggernaut. Big questions I had going in: what does a progressive Christian didactic novel look like? Can there be a didactic novel that is actually worth reading, with characters you actually care about and doesn't get bogged down in preachiness?
I think Borg largely succeeds here. His story of an Episcopalian religious studies professor at a Midwestern liberal arts college was the perfect backdrop for interjecting theological and scholarly content in a way that didn't seem too jarring or unnatural to the story. The story was well plotted. While the characters seemed more cerebral than average people, they were reasonably well drawn and plausible. I especially appreciated that the evangelical characters in the story did not seem to be mere straw men, and in the end I truly cared about the characters and what happened to them. On the other hand, some may find the book to have a lecture-like quality at certain points. This may be unavoidable since the book aims to teach a large amount of information in relatively few pages, while trying to entertain at the same time.
This book is not the best novel I've ever read by far, but it is the best didactic novel I've ever read. Not just because I happen to agree with the message, but also because it presents its message strongly without demonizing other points of view (a flaw in just about ever other didactic work I've read.) I think Borg has made a great contribution by putting progressive theology and historical critical biblical scholarship into a format that might make it more accessible to people who would never read a non-fiction book. Putting Away Childish Things made me realize what a dearth of instructional fiction there is for progressive Christianity, and how bringing these ideas down to the mass-market level might allow progressive Christians to go head-to-head with their evangelical and fundamentalist brethren.
Beyond story, and beyond theological content, however, where the book truly shines is when it shows us how a modern faith actually works in practice. How does prayer, devotion, dealing with life's troubles and anxiety actually work for liberal and progressive Christians whose view of the supernatural and scripture is not fundamentalist? In every evangelical didactic novel I've read there has been a point or points in the story where God dramatically intervenes in a stunning and miraculous way --a type of modern day deus ex machina to solve the conflict and reinforce the literalistic worldview of the story. Putting Away Childish Things, in keeping with its message, doesn't do this. Yet one can still say that God is at work in what happens in the lives of the characters in this story; showing that God can be real and active for Christians that aren't fundamentalist may be the most necessary contribution this story makes.
Hardcover: 352 pages
Publisher: HarperOne (April 20, 2010)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0061888141
ISBN-13: 978-0061888144
Popular Music from Vittula
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1.7.06
Popular Music from Vittula: a novel, by Mikael Niemi
(translated from Swedish by Laurie Thompson)
While this short novel is mostly a coming-of-age tale for two boyhood friends who grew up in Vittula, a town near the Finnish-Swedish border, I enjoyed it both for its evocative imagery of life within the arctic circle, and the role that Laestadianism plays in the lives of the two main characters. Niila is the son of an emotionally and physically abusive Laestadian preacher. Matti, who is also the voice of the narrator, is his best friend. Matti is not a Laestadian.
As a third generation American of Finnish, Norwegian, and Swedish ancestry, the occasional sauna and lefse is as close as I get to rediscovering my roots! From my perspective, the world presented in Niemi's novel seems very far away. Yet while I read it I couldn't help but feel haunted by images which evoked vivid memories of childhood. Perhaps this haunting is not entirely coincidental, as I recently found out from a relative that my ancestors originate from this very region of Finland and Sweden.
The wedding banquet chapter reminded me of the strong black coffee, hearty rieska, and earthy camaraderie that existed at family events growing up. The portrayal of the mother-in-law as a woman whose purpose was to force the guests to eat and eat until they could eat no more --and then eat a few more things-- recalled to mind the important role that food played in hospitality. The wedding banquet concludes with the men taking an intense saunas where, "the steam was as merciless as a Laestadian sermon." (p. 122)
Seeing Laestadianism through Matti's eyes left me with a "grass is greener on the other side" reaction. Growing up as a mainstream Lutheran, Matti's father warned him that "[i]t was particularly important not to brood about religion. God and death and the meaning of life were all extremely dangerous topics for a young and vulnerable mind, a dense forest in which you could easily get lost and end up with acute attacks of madness. You could confidently leave that kind of stuff until your old age, because by then you would be hardened and tougher, and wouldn't have much else to do. Confirmation classes should be regarded as a purely theoretical exercise: a few texts and rituals to memorize, but certainly not anything to start worrying about." (p. 176) While I wouldn't go that far, I was struck by the mirror image of Laestadian spiritual excess painted so starkly.
"Life is a vale of tears." I don't know if that idea is primarily Laestadian or primarily Finnish, but it is an important theme that pervades the novel. While the novel is not unhappy, or depressing, life in Vittula is hard and rough, and pleasure, while obtainable, is always understood within the context of suffering.
PUBLISHER: Seven Stories Press. New York. 2003. ISBN: 1-58322-523-4
KEYWORDS: Fiction, Sweden, Finland, Laestadianism
(translated from Swedish by Laurie Thompson)
While this short novel is mostly a coming-of-age tale for two boyhood friends who grew up in Vittula, a town near the Finnish-Swedish border, I enjoyed it both for its evocative imagery of life within the arctic circle, and the role that Laestadianism plays in the lives of the two main characters. Niila is the son of an emotionally and physically abusive Laestadian preacher. Matti, who is also the voice of the narrator, is his best friend. Matti is not a Laestadian.
As a third generation American of Finnish, Norwegian, and Swedish ancestry, the occasional sauna and lefse is as close as I get to rediscovering my roots! From my perspective, the world presented in Niemi's novel seems very far away. Yet while I read it I couldn't help but feel haunted by images which evoked vivid memories of childhood. Perhaps this haunting is not entirely coincidental, as I recently found out from a relative that my ancestors originate from this very region of Finland and Sweden.
The wedding banquet chapter reminded me of the strong black coffee, hearty rieska, and earthy camaraderie that existed at family events growing up. The portrayal of the mother-in-law as a woman whose purpose was to force the guests to eat and eat until they could eat no more --and then eat a few more things-- recalled to mind the important role that food played in hospitality. The wedding banquet concludes with the men taking an intense saunas where, "the steam was as merciless as a Laestadian sermon." (p. 122)
Seeing Laestadianism through Matti's eyes left me with a "grass is greener on the other side" reaction. Growing up as a mainstream Lutheran, Matti's father warned him that "[i]t was particularly important not to brood about religion. God and death and the meaning of life were all extremely dangerous topics for a young and vulnerable mind, a dense forest in which you could easily get lost and end up with acute attacks of madness. You could confidently leave that kind of stuff until your old age, because by then you would be hardened and tougher, and wouldn't have much else to do. Confirmation classes should be regarded as a purely theoretical exercise: a few texts and rituals to memorize, but certainly not anything to start worrying about." (p. 176) While I wouldn't go that far, I was struck by the mirror image of Laestadian spiritual excess painted so starkly.
"Life is a vale of tears." I don't know if that idea is primarily Laestadian or primarily Finnish, but it is an important theme that pervades the novel. While the novel is not unhappy, or depressing, life in Vittula is hard and rough, and pleasure, while obtainable, is always understood within the context of suffering.
PUBLISHER: Seven Stories Press. New York. 2003. ISBN: 1-58322-523-4
KEYWORDS: Fiction, Sweden, Finland, Laestadianism
Gilead
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11.6.06
Gilead: A Novel, by Marilynne Robinson
This was a truly beautiful novel, like an ember glowing after the fire has died. It was not apparent to me from the beginning, however. This is the kind of book that slowly reveals its secrets and its beauty. Like a hard life lived well, meaning is hard won, wrested from the soil, from suffering.
Robinson's primary character, a preacher named John Ames, says it best when (describing baptism) he states, "There is a reality in blessing, which I take baptism to be primarily. It doesn't enhance sacredness, but it acknowledges it, and there is power in that." (p. 23) In the same way, Gilead acknowledges the sacredness in what may seem from an outsider's point of view to be ordinary lives in an ordinary Midwestern town. The sacredness of Iowa, of all places! It also acknowledges the sacredness in those of us who may consider ourselves beyond redemption.
The novel takes the form of an extended letter from father to son. John Ames is an old man with a young son, and pens this letter turned memoir as an attempt to communicate critical wisdom to his young son from beyond the grave. As the father tells the convoluted tale of a life that was shaped significantly by the experiences, heartaches, and wisdom learned from his forebears a picture of four generations of preachers emerges --each with different styles, personalities, and convictions bound by a common vocation.
John Ames' grandfather was a firebrand; an abolitionist who believed in passionate pursuit of social justice, working for the cause to end slavery, even to the point of advocating violence and revolution. He was noted for strong views and strong convictions, even giving away his own possessions to everyone that had need of them. His prophetic ministry was grounded in a vision from childhood, a vision of Christ shackled in chains that cut so deep they went "to the bone."
In stark contrast, John Ames' father never had a vision, discounted the importance of religious experience, and "went to sit with the Quakers" after the Civil War. The rift between these two strong-willed characters profoundly shapes the narrators life.
John Ames, our narrator throughout the novel, was a preacher during World War I, the Flu epidemic, and World War II. He is an interesting mix of his father and his grandfather. A pacifist, he once wrote a fiery sermon casting the flu as God's judgment against a people to willing to go to war. However he never preached that sermon out of compassion for a suffering flock. Perhaps he is the synthesis of what was best about both his father and his grandfather. A seemingly simple country preacher haunted by the ghosts of his father, grandfather and a late wife who died in childbirth, he has hidden depths with which we become increasingly familiar as the novel progresses.
John Ames' son takes two forms, one literal and the other metaphorical. On a literal level Ames is writing to a son who will come of age only after he is dead. On a deeper level, there is John Ames Boughton --ne'er do well son of his best friend-- who the preacher must come to terms with, forgive, and see God's grace within. Through this revealing of grace the glory of the old man's life, and the dusty Iowa farm town, is revealed.
PUBLISHER: Farrar, Straus, and Giroux. New York, 2004; ISBN: 0-374-15389-2
KEYWORDS: fiction, Iowa, preaching, relationships
This was a truly beautiful novel, like an ember glowing after the fire has died. It was not apparent to me from the beginning, however. This is the kind of book that slowly reveals its secrets and its beauty. Like a hard life lived well, meaning is hard won, wrested from the soil, from suffering.
Robinson's primary character, a preacher named John Ames, says it best when (describing baptism) he states, "There is a reality in blessing, which I take baptism to be primarily. It doesn't enhance sacredness, but it acknowledges it, and there is power in that." (p. 23) In the same way, Gilead acknowledges the sacredness in what may seem from an outsider's point of view to be ordinary lives in an ordinary Midwestern town. The sacredness of Iowa, of all places! It also acknowledges the sacredness in those of us who may consider ourselves beyond redemption.
The novel takes the form of an extended letter from father to son. John Ames is an old man with a young son, and pens this letter turned memoir as an attempt to communicate critical wisdom to his young son from beyond the grave. As the father tells the convoluted tale of a life that was shaped significantly by the experiences, heartaches, and wisdom learned from his forebears a picture of four generations of preachers emerges --each with different styles, personalities, and convictions bound by a common vocation.
John Ames' grandfather was a firebrand; an abolitionist who believed in passionate pursuit of social justice, working for the cause to end slavery, even to the point of advocating violence and revolution. He was noted for strong views and strong convictions, even giving away his own possessions to everyone that had need of them. His prophetic ministry was grounded in a vision from childhood, a vision of Christ shackled in chains that cut so deep they went "to the bone."
In stark contrast, John Ames' father never had a vision, discounted the importance of religious experience, and "went to sit with the Quakers" after the Civil War. The rift between these two strong-willed characters profoundly shapes the narrators life.
John Ames, our narrator throughout the novel, was a preacher during World War I, the Flu epidemic, and World War II. He is an interesting mix of his father and his grandfather. A pacifist, he once wrote a fiery sermon casting the flu as God's judgment against a people to willing to go to war. However he never preached that sermon out of compassion for a suffering flock. Perhaps he is the synthesis of what was best about both his father and his grandfather. A seemingly simple country preacher haunted by the ghosts of his father, grandfather and a late wife who died in childbirth, he has hidden depths with which we become increasingly familiar as the novel progresses.
John Ames' son takes two forms, one literal and the other metaphorical. On a literal level Ames is writing to a son who will come of age only after he is dead. On a deeper level, there is John Ames Boughton --ne'er do well son of his best friend-- who the preacher must come to terms with, forgive, and see God's grace within. Through this revealing of grace the glory of the old man's life, and the dusty Iowa farm town, is revealed.
PUBLISHER: Farrar, Straus, and Giroux. New York, 2004; ISBN: 0-374-15389-2
KEYWORDS: fiction, Iowa, preaching, relationships
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