Now I'm in Toronto, the city of layers and contrasts. One of the few places where I welcome the concrete beneath my feet and the steel and glass structures around me. I've seen a fair chunk of the northeastern states since I wrote last from Gloucester City, and experienced hospitality from a good many friends. And I had a refreshing visit with my family in Nova Scotia, feasting daily at my mother's table, and partaking in the pleasantries of her company and habitat.
In my absence from posting I have been reading (and sometimes listening to) good books (and an occasional poor one). So as a maneuver of reentry I offer an assortment of abstracts and some subtle recommendations.
Have read:
The Bible: A Biography, by Karen Armstrong -- It is just that, a biographical look at the Biblical canon. Armstrong addresses the stages of development behind the various books that were compiled to make the Bible as it is today. She gives special attention to the individuals who were catalytic in that development, as well as those who influenced the progression of how the Bible (in its final form) has been and is perceived and interpreted. In light of the distorted and toxic ways in which the Bible is frequently used (whether as a justification for the violence of war or of attitudes of sexism, entitlement or intolerance, amongst other things) Armstrong suggests a compassionate hermeneutic. She references the approach espoused by Augustine, the church father, and Hillel, the Jewish rabbi, that "any interpretation of scripture that spreads hatred and dissension is illegitimate; all exegesis must be guided by the principle of charity."
Teacher Man, by Frank McCourt -- McCourt is an Irish man who immigrated to the United States and taught literature in the New York public school system for 30 years. I listened to (most of) the audio version, performed by McCourt himself. "Dead Poet's Society" meets an Irish accent. On his first day of class one student threw a bologna sandwich at another student, in response McCourt ate the sandwich. It's not so much that he was committed to his unconventional approach to education and crowd control tactics, as it was that he knew no other way. The book is an account of his improvisational career, a delight and, for those of us inclined to the possibility of becoming educators, an inspiration.
We Are Extremely Very Good Recyclers, by Lauren Child -- Meet Charlie, the warmhearted and amicable British school boy, and his little sister Lola, who is articulate in her own way and very funny. "Veggie Tales" quivers in the shadow of Lauren Child's creation. "Baby Einstein" needs to get up or move over. Here comes a multi-media sibling duo with enough charisma and charm to, quite possibly, actually make the world a better place.
Man Without a Country, by Kurt Vonnegut -- The man earned the right to write this book. A collection of final rants, complete with the unabashed honesty and raw humor that Vonnegut is loved, nay followed, for. If you want a gentle nudge toward the appreciation of socialism, or if you're tired of war and gas guzzling SUV's, then you might find a handy bit of solidarity from the beloved chain-smoking, sci-fi writing, cultural commentating Hoosier. God (whom Vonnegut seemed to have a strained but working relationship with) rest him.
Cry, the Beloved Country, by Alan Paton -- Set in South Africa just shy of the institution of apartheid, Paton's novel follows the unlikely story of two men whose sons have a tragic chance encounter. It's a story about family and home and the struggle of faith. But the setting somehow carries the plot beyond itself, and superimposes it onto any and all occasions, historical and contemporary, of segregation. It is a plea for hope, that humans might overcome or outlive our tendency toward segregation, replacing hierarchy with mutuality. It is also a sincere acknowledgment of the suffering that has occurred and is inevitable along the way.
Reading:
Runaways, by Brian Vaughn & Adrian Alphona -- It reminds me of "Newsies" in a way. The Marvel version, without any music. The parents turn out to be super villains. The offspring run away, discover their own unnatural gifts and abilities, and unite with super-angst to set right the world's wrongs. There's also a velociraptor from the future.
That's Not What I Meant, by Deborah Tannen -- A little paperback psychology book about the linguistics of conversations. With this book I am attempting to acquire and fine tune my very own superpower.
Jesus Wants to Save Christians, by Rob Bell & Don Golden -- A good use of the biblical narrative, the way it should be done: as a progression, as good literature, with themes and irony and complex characters. Part way into the audio version and already I'm applauding.
