Lift Up Your Hearts!

Mark's Story by Tim LaHaye and Jerry B. Jenkins (Putnam Praise, 2007)

This, the second story in The Jesus Chronicles, is a bold, not to say brazen, attempt to show the events of Jesus' life and of the early church through the eyes of the author of the Gospel of Mark.  I hadn't planned to read anything more by LaHaye and Jenkins, not after my disappointment with their Left Behind series, which had an interesting premise but could have used writers who were as serious about the story they were crafting as they were about the message they wanted to get across.  As I've said before, great writers manage to convey many messages through their works, but people who start writing with a message in mind tend to write mediocre novels.  But Mark's Story was recommended by a friend whom I respect, and she backed up the recommendation by lending me the book.

Tackling any part of the the Bible though the medium of historical fiction is risky, and I wondered how LaHaye and Jenkins—who so clearly reverence the Book as the written, infallable, word of God—would dare to add to what the Scriptures have to say.  Well, they were smarter than me, and solved that problem—not to mention the need to get their word count up to book size—by quoting passages of the New Testament verbatim, and at length.  Mark's "story" is merely the lubricant that allows the quotations to slide together into a coherent narrative.

I must say that the authors have done a credible job of piecing together the Gospels, the book of Acts, and the letters of Paul and Peter, along with what we know of early church history, while adding only enough new material to make the story flow, to show how Mark might have learned the stories he tells in his Gospel, and to get across their own biases and interpretations.  The last should surprise no one who has read the Left Behind books.

Unfortunately, that much of the material is straight Scripture I actually found to be a detraction.  I'd rather read the Bible itself, because—at least to someone very familiar with the facts—what is added did not give enough story to the narrative.  I wasn't eager to turn the page to find out what was going to happen, and the book has none of the character development that makes me happy to re-read books I know almost by heart.

For someone less familiar with the New Testament, however, this might be a good introduction.  As I said, the authors succeeded in weaving a chronological tapestry from writings that are anything but chronological.  And despite my complaints, I may go ahead and read the rest of the series, just to see what they can do with the other Gospel writers.  If I think of Mark's Story as one of those modern "specialty Bibles" with denominational commentary, it "works" better for me.

Wonderful Fool by Shusaku Endo, translated by Peter Owen (Tuttle Publishing, 1974; originally published in 1959)

I am currently on a schedule of reading one Shusaku Endo book per Swiss grandchild born.  I'm definitely warming to his writing, so perhaps I should visit Switzerland more often.

This thoughtful exploration of what might happen when innocence and love meet everyday society, though less depressing than most of the stories in Stained Glass Elegies, is hardly the "light, humorous novel" promised in the Introduction.  It is, however, uplifting and redemptive.  It is also well written, for which credit no doubt goes to both the author and the translator.  I especially enjoy the vision of Japan through Japanese eyes, and the small advantage our brief visit to that country has given me.  The one part of the translation that strikes me as odd when I read it is the persistent use of the appellation "foreigner" in a way it would not be used in English.  Yet when I imagine the speakers saying "gaijin" instead, the language flows and the usage makes sense.

The summary on the back cover is excellent, so rather than reinvent an inferior wheel, here it is:

Wonderful Fool is Shusaku Endo's gentle and humorous narrative of "mudswamp Japan"—his phrase for the Japanese inner world of moral apathy and insensitivity to God and sin.  A young Frenchman, Gaston Bonaparte, comes to Japan for the first time, and we see Japan afresh through his eyes. At first he seems to be the utter fool both in his ugly horseface appearance and slow-witted thought, but he gradually charms those around him as he bumbles through Japanese society, making mistake after mistake.  In spite of his mistakes, those around him start to see some endearing qualities in his pure love of both people and animals.  Gaston's wanderings take him to the seamier places in Japan, as he spends time in Sanya with day laborers, in Shibuya with fortune tellers, in Shinjuku with prostitutes, and eventually hooks up with a professional killer.  His two young hosts, Takamori and his sister Tomoe, are drawn into Gaston's world and forced to take a deeper look at their own lives and values.  Both a provocative tale of clashing culture and new-found morals, Wonderful Fool also serves as a kind of guidebook to a hidden Tokyo and Japan that few foreigners may have a chance to experience.

The Stories of Emmy:  A Girl Like Heidi by Doris Smith Naundorf (Xulon Press, 2010)

Doris Smith Naundorf is known in upstate New York as The Story Lady.  The Stories of Emmy are taken from her one-woman play, Interweaving the Generations.  Emmy, Doris's mother, grew up partly in her Swiss village of Muttenz, and partly in Paterson, New Jersey, where her family moved when she was ten years old.  Her stories give a delightful glimpse into Swiss, American, and immigrant life in the early 1900's.  (Grandchild warning:  There is one sad incident requiring parental discretion; the stories are meant to be appropriate for chidren, but reality is sometimes harsh.)

Muttenz is near Basel (four minutes by train, a century later), and the stories are sprinkled with Baseldeutsch, the delightful Swiss-German dialect spoken there.  A glossary is provided for each chapter.

Driving the several blocks to the train station, Emmy excitedly chattered to her father.  "Will we get there in time, Vatti? she asked.  "Mutti says we must be there early, so we will not miss the train."

"Jo, jo," replied her father.  "In a country that makes such fine watches and clocks, of course the Zúúg runs on time.  It is up to the passengers to be there early so the conductors can keep their schedule."

"The Zúúg, the train, is never late?"

"Of course not!  We Swiss cannot even imagine such a thing!" her father assured Emmy.

I couldn't resist finding Emmy, age 20, and her family in the 1920 census.  (Click on the image to view a version large enough to read.  Their name, Lüscher, appears without its umlaut.)

JoAnn Falletta, conductor
Elmar Oliveira, violin

John Callahan:  Pulsar (World Premiere)
Saint-Saëns: Violin Concerto No. 3 in B minor, op.61
Prokofiev: Symphony No. 5

Last night's Orlando Phil concert, the final for the season in our series (Classics), was certainly enjoyable, but through no fault of the excellent conductor, soloists, and orchestra, it came across, for me, as a little bland.  Listening to music performed cannot compare with making music oneself, and no mere concert can hope to compete with the experience of being part of a grand event, like the afternoon's Consecration of the Rev. Gregory O. Brewer as Fourth Bishop of Central Florida.  About that I will write much more, but I'm waiting for the complete service to be uploaded to YouTube. (Part 1 available now, if you want a preview, but most if not all of my readers will appreciate the effort I'm making to provide a guide to the very long service.)

A post about the OPO concert is in order, however, in order to say this:  Remember the name, John Callahan.  He's a piano student at Florida State University, and won the OPO's Young Composers Challenge in 2008 and 2009.  Pulsar was commissioned for the OPO by local musician and philanthropist Stephen Goldman, founder of the Young Composers Challenge.  I can't say that Pulsar made my heart sing the way the music of John Dupuis does, but even I can tell that Callahan is extremely talented and composes at another level altogether.

The Bone House by Stephen Lawhead (Thomas Nelson, 2011)

The second book in Stephen Lawhead's Bright Empires series took me a lot less time to read than the first, and not just because it's almost 50 pages shorter.  I took both the book and the audio version out of the library, and supplemented listening on my daily walks with reading in bits and snatches at home.  Despite a full schedule, I devoured the book in four days.  It turns out I read a whole lot faster than a read-aloud pace.  Much, much faster.  However, I read for content, not beauty, not the first time through.  For really good books, like The Lord of the Rings, I soak in the beauty through multiple re-readings.

The audiobook forces me to pay attention to the descriptions as well as the story, and I enjoy a much more vivid picture of the setting, characters, and events.  It's almost, but not quite, enough to make me want to listen to the entire book, since I imbibed most of this book via the printed page.  I think I spent more actual time listening, but covered many more pages by reading.

The Bone House is if anything more unbelievable than its predecessor, The Skin Map.  The world—multiverse—of Lawhead's imagination just gets stranger and stranger.  But it's also getting more beautiful (yes, I managed to pick up some of the beauty on the fly) and more interesting.  There's also less of the "testosterone factor" that annoyed me in the first book:  more attention to brains and character than to brawn and beauty.

The only problem with having finished The Bone House so quickly is that the next book in the series, The Spirit Well, isn't scheduled to be released until September.

The Introvert Advantage: How to Thrive in an Extrovert World by Marti Olsen Laney (Workman, 2002)

This book was recommended by a friend, and while it did not suffer from "obligation + time pressure = irrational barrier syndrome," I did have to struggle through the first third of the book, which didn't say much that I found useful.  Perhaps if it had been my introduction to the introvert/extrovert distinction, I'd have felt differently.  But I found the author's approach overly psychotherapeutic—no doubt because she is, herself, a psychotherapist.  I also felt that her description of an introvert didn't fit me as well as others I have read, and I had a hard time getting over her use of the terms "innie" and "outie," as if introverts and extroverts were belly buttons.

However, the rest of the book is bristling with sticky note markers.  There's a section on parenting introverted/extroverted children that in itself makes borrowing the book from a library worthwhile.  My primary complaint is that I'd be afraid to let any of my extroverted friends read it.  Valuable as are some of its insights, I fear an extrovert would take from it the attitude, "See, I knew introverts were crazy, weak, inferior creatures." Despite the title, there's not a lot about why it's great to be/live with/work with an introvert; I was hoping for fewer tips on how to overcome my weaknesses and more on how to play to my strengths.   Nonetheless, there's a lot worth reading, especially if you're willing to skim over what doesn't apply.

My best take-away?  There are measurable, physical differences in the brain pathways used by introverts and extroverts.  While we can, and often should, train ourselves to function in our areas of weakness, it's important to realize that something an extrovert takes for granted—as easy, requiring no thought, something "every civilized person" does—may be counter-intuitive and extremely difficult for an introvert.  And vice versa.

Here's a taste—or maybe a full meal—of The Introvert Advantage.

Communication styles:

Introverts tend to:

• Keep energy, enthusiasm, and excitement to themselves and share only with those they know very well. Hesitate before sharing personal information with others.
• Need time to think before responding. Need time to reflect before reacting to outside events.
• Prefer communicating one-to-one.
• Need to be drawn out or invited to speak, and may prefer written to verbal communication.
• May occasionally think they told you something they didn’t (they’re always going over things in their head).

Extroverts tend to:

• Share their energy, excitement, and enthusiasm with almost anyone in the vicinity.
• Respond quickly to questions and outward events.
• Share personal information easily.
• Communicate one to one or in groups with equal ease and enjoyment.
• Think out loud, interacting with others, and, in the process, reach their conclusions. In addition they often don’t give others a chance to speak and don’t always attach tremendous meaning to what they say.
• Prefer face-to-face, oral communication over written communication.

Children:

If your children are primarily introverts, they will probably:

• Watch and listen before joining an activity.
• Concentrate deeply on subjects of interest.
• Enjoy time alone in their room, energized by introspection.
• Speak after thinking things through.
• Have a strong sense of personal space and dislike people sitting too close or coming into their room without knocking.
• Be private and may need to be asked what they are thinking or feeling.
• Need validation; may have irrational self-doubts.
• Talk a lot if the topic is interesting, or if they are comfortable with the people.

If your children are primarily extroverts, they will probably:

• Be gregarious and outgoing, except during normal developmental stages.
• Be energized by interactions and activities.
• Want to tell you all about their experiences and ideas immediately, covering lots of topics.
• Think out loud. They’ll walk around the house saying, “Where’s my ball?” or “I’m looking for my walkie-talkie” as they hunt for these items. They need to talk in order to make decisions.
• Prefer time with others rather than time alone.
• Need lots of approval. For example, they need to hear what a good job they are doing or how much you like their gift.
• Like variety and be easily distracted.
• Often volunteer what they are thinking or feeling.

[Introverted children] think and feel more than they show to the outside world. Puzzling as it sounds, they often know more than they themselves think they know. If they are not helped to understand how their mind works, they can underestimate their own powerful potential.  Introverted children learn by taking in information and then needing quiet time to process it—to integrate all of what they observed, heard, and absorbed. When they finally have their thoughts formulated, they can take action or talk about their ideas and impressions. In fact, talking can help them understand how their mind operates. Interrupting causes them to lose their place, and they have to exert extra energy and concentration to retrieve their thoughts. … If introverted children don’t have time and physical space to shut out other stimulation, they can “zone out” and become unable to think.

Introverted kids often need help learning when and how to take a break. They don’t know they need one, aren’t familiar with taking one, or don’t want to leave the group. This is why it is so important for parents to know their child. They have to be sensitive enough to notice if their son or daughter is zoning out, getting crabby, or withdrawing.

Extroverted children need feedback. “Atta boy/atta girls” are important. A few words of positive reinforcement, and they are flying high. All children need to be mirrored, to have their personality reflected back to them, but this can be especially important for extroverted children; it helps them have more understanding of their behavior.  … Extroverted children are less self-reflective than introverted ones, and they need help to develop this capacity. It is important for them to understand that feelings are not the same as actions: they are internal states, and they can be thought about. I’m feeling nervous, why? Then they have a choice about what actions they decide to take. “I know you wanted a turn, but you waited for Sean to have one first. That was being a good friend.” … These comments can help children to become less impulsive and develop a capacity for reflection—to learn to think before acting.

Don’t get into an arguing match [with your child]. Many extroverted children are quite verbal and may be able to outtalk you. Stay calm and in charge. “I love you, but I didn’t like what you did.” Remind them we all need to think about our actions sometimes. Even Mom and Dad.

I had to include the following, not only because it says something important, but because the author chooses for her example the names of one of my favorite introvert/extrovert pairs.  :)

Most families have members all along the introvert/extrovert continuum.  It is quite common, however, for a family to have one spirited extrovert who takes up a lot of airtime, leaving little space for more introspective children.  If for any reason there is an imbalance in your family, it is crucial to protect introverted children from siblings who can dominate, squelch, or overshadow them.  At the dinner table make sure all the children have a turn to talk. Introverts feel uncomfortable about interrupting, so they may not join a family discussion.  If they know they are going to have a turn, they can have time to prepare their thoughts.  Help the facile talkers learn to wait for their slower-paced brother or sister.  Don’t let one sibling interrupt or talk for another.  It’s obvious that no child should be made fun of or humiliated for his or her communication style.  Notice if your introverted children tend to just go with the flow and, as a result, get overlooked.  Ask them what they think or feel about family activities.  “Was today a little busy for you?”  Teach your other children to include the introvert’s opinion.  “Jon, I know you want to go to the park—ask Heather what she thinks about that.”  Encourage the other siblings to wait if an introverted child takes longer to give his or her opinion.  “Heather needs a minute to think about that, Jon. Let’s see what she thinks.”  By respecting everyone in the family, all of your children will develop stronger interpersonal skills.

While introverts are in general reluctant to talk, that changes dramatically when the subject is something they have a particular interest in or knowledge about.  Now I know why I generally prefer for another person carry 75% of the conversational burden, but can't shut up on my favorite subjects.

Introverts can be energized by one-on-one conversations about subjects that interest them, and they are recharged (up to a point) by a complex discussion where each person considers the other’s opinion thoughtfully.

In the "I am not alone" department...

Most introverts hate name tags because they draw unwanted attention and increase their sense of exposure.

On the questionnaires I sent out to introverts asking about their experience of introversion, so many people mentioned phone phobia that I decided to include it as a separate section in this chapter.  Here’s how most introverts view the phone:   It’s an interruption that drains energy and requires losing internal focus, which you have to gain again; it requires expending energy for “on-the-feet thinking.”

Studies show that many introverts have trouble with face and name recognition.

Another introvert characteristic that's important to recognize and overcome, at least if one wants to advance at work or get past the "what do you do all day?" question:  introverts are lousy at self-promotion.

Why don’t innies disclose more or promote themselves? As I mentioned in an earlier chapter, introverts are territorial. They like their own protected space. One way they keep it private is by guarding what they show the world, thereby reducing outgoing energy and limiting what the world directs toward them. 

Another reason introverts may not share their knowledge is because often they don’t realize all they know. They take their rich emotional, intellectual, and imaginative life for granted. … 

At the same time, introverts often feel they don’t have to let other people in on what they are up to—at work, in particular—because, if they were the boss, they would notice how much time and effort they were putting in.  Innies don’t realize that extroverted people don’t pay attention to the same behaviors in the same way they do. Extroverts need to be told in more detail what introverts are doing at work because otherwise they may not think anything is happening.

The last reason innies don’t expose their internal selves is because they aren’t looking for outside approval. Though they want to be appreciated for their achievements, getting public attention can be painful and/or uncomfortable—like hearing fingernails scratch on a blackboard: squirmy and shrill. All of these factors can add up to innies appearing remote, uncooperative, or, in the worst-case scenario, expendable.

Because introverts tend to speak slowly, with long pauses, they can appear hesitant and uncertain of their opinion.  Actually, they give deep thought to their ideas.  And since they value meaning, they want to be precise and select just the right words to express them. But this can drive extroverts nuts. Spit it out, they think.

In addition, introverts are willing to consider the value in the other person’s opinion.  But what is actually openness can be misread as a lack of conviction in their own opinion.  As I mentioned earlier, innies often don’t bother to tell other people about their thinking process.  Predictably, this leads to lots of misunderstandings.

More communication tips:

Best bets for communicating with innies:

• Talk about one topic at a time.
• Ask, then listen.
• Give each person adequate time for a response.
• Don’t finish anyone’s sentences.
• Communicate in writing, if possible.

Best bets for communicating with outies:

• Communicate orally.
• Let them talk and think out loud.
• Include a variety of topics.
• Expect immediate action.
• Keep the conversation moving.

Life Is So Good by George Dawson and Richard Glaubman (Penguin, 2001)

George Dawson was born in 1898, and died in 2001.  The 20th century was his in a way very few others can claim, and to read his story is to see the history of that momentous century from the inside, and to realize how much more important character and attitude are than any external circumstances.

George Dawson grew up hearing first-hand stories of slavery from his grandmother and great-grandmother.  As a ten-year-old, he watched his older friend, Pete, be lynched for a crime George knew he did not commit.

"I will never work for or talk to a white person again," I said with anger.

My father, who had seemed lost in his own thoughts, jerked his head and looked at me.

"That was wrong what they did," I said. "Those white folks are mean and nasty people."

Papa swallowed hard and pulled up on the reins so that the wagon stopped.

He turned toward me. "No. You will work for white folks. You will talk to them."

"But, Papa, what about Pete? He didn't do nothing and they killed him."

"Yeah, I know they had no cause for that, but-"

I cut my father off short, something I had never done.

"But they made Pete suffer so."

"His suffering is over, son. It's all over for Pete. You don't need to worry for him."

"They took his life. Pete was still young. He should of grown to be a man."

"That's so," Papa said. "It was Pete's time, though. His time had come and that's that."

My anger still had some hold on me and I swallowed hard.

Papa looked at me and said, "Some of those white folks was mean and nasty. Some were just scared. It doesn't matter. You have no right to judge another human being. Don't you ever forget."

My father had spoken.

There was nothing to say. I didn't know it then, but his words set the direction my life would take even till this day.

Dawson's work life began when he was four, combing cotton for his family.  By eight, he was working for other farmers, and doing "a man's work" by ten.  He retired at 79, and finally learned to read at 98.  In the meantime, his hard work, his determination to do the right thing—at which he mostly, though not entirely, succeeded—and his positive attitude took him far from his native Texas.  Those were the days when a strong body and a good work ethic could get you a job and a place to sleep, and "homeless" was not a diagnosis.  But he always returned home to Texas, even after a stint in Mexico where he discovered the pleasures of being considered a man, rather than a "colored boy."

There were a couple of cafes that I stopped in, not so much 'cause I was hungry but because they would serve me.  I knew I was in another country when I could walk through the front door and where I sat could be my own choice.  I liked that.  Life was good, but I was too used to working, and after a week I caught the train back to Texas.

Like hardship and injustice themselves, it's easy for books about hardship and injustice to wallow in darkness and lead only to depression.  Life Is So Good is remarkable, and well worth reading, for being able to report the darkness faithfully while infusing it with light.

Life is so good.  I do believe it's getting better.  — George Dawson

Note:  There are a few places where the book is not appropriate for an eight-year-old, but Jonathan is not far from being able to learn much from reading it, and given that he liked God's Smuggler, it's clearly not beyond him.

The Skin Map by Stephen Lawhead (Thomas Nelson, 2009) (audiobook, read by Simon Bubb)

I review books for the publisher, Thomas Nelson.  I've never before reviewed their fiction, because, frankly, it usually doesn't sound all that interesting.  However, this offer made me sit up and take notice, because I've enjoyed Stephen Lawhead's work before.  Add the fact that what was offered was the audiobook version, and I was hooked:  I figured it would be just the thing for my upcoming long flight across the Atlantic.

I was wrong about that part.  Over and over I repeated the pattern:  Listen, doze off, awaken in a different part of the story, doze off, etc.  Not because the story wasn't interesting, but because I needed sleep more than I needed entertainment.

Home again, I started the story anew, and found it a wonderfully inspiring accompaniment to my daily exercise walk.  The prospect of hearing a few more chapters of the book was just the incentive I needed to get out and get going.  Plus, it's really hard to fall asleep while walking.

Lawhead takes the concept of ley lines as his jumping off point (literally) in this tangled adventure of multiple realities.  Or perhaps one reality that is infinitely more complex than we have supposed.  Ley lines were new to me—I was as ignorant as his long-dead great-grandfather found protagonist Kit Livingstone to be.  In The Skin Map, the power of ley lines is discovered to be, not legend, but cold, scientific fact, and a wrong turn one day in London takes Kit from his directionless, boring existence into adventure, danger, and more directions than he fears his mental health—and his stomach—can handle.

Without doubt, it was easy to be caught up in the adventure, and the mystery.  But my favorite parts of the book were its well-researched intersections with everyday life: in modern England, 17th century England, 17th century Prague, Macao during China's Qing dynasty, 18th dynasty Egypt, and more.  My least favorite were the drawn-out descriptions of the physical appearance of every female character encountered, and the even more interminable battle scenes, both of which were obviously included for the more testosterone-laden among us.

Therein lies the weakness, and the strength, of the audio version.  Were I reading, instead of listening, I'd have quickly skimmed over those parts I found dull; instead, I was forced to wait, impatient, through them.  On the other hand, I would probably also have given short shrift to the many highly descriptive scene-setting passages, and this format forced me to listen, to enjoy, and to appreciate a much more vivid picture of each setting than I would have envisioned on my own.  Narrator Simon Bubb also does a fantastic job of bringing the characters to life through their voices, making this audio version an enhancement, rather than merely a slower and more laborious—albeit hands-free—way of reading the book.

On my own personal scale, The Skin Map is not nearly as good as The Lord of the Rings (one of my favorite stories of all time), and a whole lot better than Harry Potter (which I enjoyed, though less and less, I'll admit, after the third book).  It's an interesting concept, a riveting story, and well-written to boot.  True, there were times when I sighed, "Oh, come on, that's not plausible"—but  that tends to happen to me even with nonfiction books.  Astonishingly, for this age, Lawhead manages to craft a complex and engaging tale without ever being offensive, edgy, or over-the-top.  I can't say for certain that there are no "grandchild warnings"—I'm pretty sure "bloody" occurs a few times, not related to battle scenes—but any potentially offensive language is rare, minor, and appropriate to the context.

The book is not short—448 pages in printed form—but the end came long before I was ready.  Really, it seemed the story had just gotten started!  That was when I discovered the sad, and happy, truth:  the book was over, but the story had only begun.  The Skin Map turns out to be the first of what is intended to be a five-book series.  Fortunately, the second is available at the library, and this morning I reserved it.  The third, however, has yet to be published....

The Skin Map is not a movie—though I think it would make a good one—but it has a "trailer" anyway.  Who knew?

Everybody's Normal Till You Get to Know Them by John Ortberg (Zondervan, 2003)

This book started off with two strikes against it, but survived.

First, it was recommended as a “must read” from someone I care about, and coupled with a feeling of time pressure, which in my oddball psyche immediately sets up a cycle of resistance followed by guilt leading to more resistance, etc.  Don’t ask me why, but I’ve been like that as long as I can remember.  It was decades before I discovered that most of the books recommended to me, as a child, by my parents were really good stories.  I was out of school before conceding that some (not all) of the books I was forced by my teachers to read were actually interesting.  And I still haven’t finished Colossians Remixed, which I started in 2005….  Stupid, I know.  It's not that I don't ever take other people's reading recommendations; many of my favorite books I learned about from someone else.  But for whatever reason, obligation + time pressure = irrational barrier.

Second, I realized immediately that it is written in a style I cannot stand, which I call “modern American evangelical pop culture,” though I suspect it’s much more widespread than that.  It’s annoying enough that magazine articles use pull quotes and sidebars, which make sustained reading difficult by distracting from the main text, but I find it inexcusable in book format.  Ditto the dumbed-down writing, and the highly informal style, more appropriate for blogs than for books.

Despite these annoyances, I finished the book and am glad I read it.  The first hurdle was easy to overcome because I was reading a borrowed book with a fixed return deadline.  My breakthrough with the second was a stunning realization that I hope will aid me in appreciating more books written in this (all too common) style.

The revelation came when someone commented that popular speakers who want to write books need especially good editors, because what works well in a talk often translates poorly into written form.  John Ortberg, as it turns out, is a pastor.  A preacher, not a writer.  And he could have used a better editor.

So I changed my attitude.  Instead of strictly reading the book, I imagined that I was listening to a TED talk.  Voilà!   Suddenly the inane asides drew a laugh, the offensive jokes lost much of their sting, and the casual style seemed more natural.

Finally able to concentrate on the content of the book, I was able to finish and to appreciate it.  I’m not as enthusiastic as the person who recommended it to me, but Ortberg definitely has some good ideas about friendship, community, and our expectations.  Fortunately, not having the book with me, I can’t illuminate the point with quotations.  I say “fortunately” because there are several I would be tempted to brandish with a “See?  See?  He agrees with me!”  Which is not usually a productive form of communication.

Everybody’s Normal is not a great book.  But it could be a valuable book study for a group desiring to take their community life beyond the surface level.  For individuals, too—but I think greater benefit would accrue in a situation where the chapters (or even paragraphs) could be the focus of discussion.

Brave Companions:  Portraits in History by David McCullough (Simon & Schuster, 1992)

I need to remember to read more from David McCullough.  The man can write.

Brave Companions deserves a long, thoughtful review.  I could write a blog post on any and all of these fourteen portraits (thirteen of people, one of a city) and three additional essays.  McCullough draws stunning pictures of people—famous and unknown, artists and aviators, writers and scientists—whose actions and personalities made (and are making) history.

But I barely had time to read the book, let alone write about it, and I must now return it to its rightful owner.  If you, however, find yourself with sufficient time to enjoy a short book (232 pages) that's easy to read in short bursts (except that you won't want to put it down), you can't go wrong with Brave Companions.

I'd read it for the writing alone; the history, personality, and adventures are a bonus.

Several months ago, Porter signed us up for a pre-anniversary present of tickets to the Orlando performance of The Screwtape Letters.  I tucked them carefully away in my Tickler file, and last week they popped up.  I'm very grateful for the Tickler and for Google Calendar—when you book things so far in advance it's all too easy to forget, especially in a season of other big events.  It was a delightful post-Christmas outing.

The location, the Plaza Live theater, was initially disappointing, as it looks—and smells—like the converted movie theater it is.  But that was easy to forget once the show started.

Not so easy to ignore was the excessive volume of the music and sound effects.  I did not want to resort to my earplugs, because the speaking part was of a reasonable volume, but after several assaults I gave up, and was still able to hear the monologue.  Yes, it's a monologue, though not a one-man show.  But the other character, Screwtape's secretary, Toadpipe, is a mime.  And played by a woman, so maybe it is a one-man show after all.

How do you adapt a book, consisting entirely of a series of letters, to the stage?  With difficulty, but they did a commendable job.  The stage setting is in Hell, where Screwtape is dictating his letters.  Toadpipe's acrobatics and the sound effects provide enough action to keep the show moving.  For what it is, the show is very well done, and should have large audience appeal.  It received a very positive review from the Orlando Sentinel.  Even I enjoyed it, no doubt because the script was so faithful to the original.  I know the book well enough to recognize that large sections were performed verbatim.  Much was, of necessity, left out—I had wondered how they would handle the part where Screwtape turns into a cockroach; they didn't—and there were one or two places where I thought there might have been just a little modernization.  But it's hard to beat C.S. Lewis for writing, so I'm glad they didn't try.  Best of all, the show stays true to the character of the book.

No show could replace the book itself.  But for an introduction to the book, it's a good performance.  If only they had turned the volume down!

A Boy's War by David Michell (OMF International, 1988)

In 2010, revelations of unspeakable abuse of missionary children at not one but two West African boarding schools only confirmed my intense belief that missions organizations sinned greatly against the very families that gave everything to serve with them, by expecting—often requiring—parents to send their children away to boarding school at a very young age.  After all, isn't one of the (multiple) lessons of the Old Testament story of Abraham's willingness to sacrifice his son Isaac, the counter-cultural message that God does not ask parents to sacrifice their children, but himself provides the sacrifice?  How did the organizations dare preach Jesus Christ while demanding sacrifices to Moloch?  I'm not talking about high school-aged children who chose to go to boarding school for the sake of a better education and preparation for college, but little ones, as young as six, whose education would have been better accomplished at home with their parents.  I daresay the parents' missionary work would have benefitted as well, as the native peoples would have more easily accepted them as fellow human beings as they watched them interacting as families.

Granted, there are many excellent boarding schools.  My quarrel is not with families who choose this as the best educational option for their children, but with the missions that mandated the practice.  Why did the organizations rip children away from their parents in the name of God, and why did their parents put up with it?  It was a long time before I came up with a theory:  it may be because so many missions organizations have their roots in England, and other countries where sending small children off to boarding school was standard practice, a historical and cultural given.

God can redeem even the worst situation, and for a moving example, read A Candle in the Darkness, an article by Wess Stafford, president of Compassion International, who transformed his boarding school tortures into a life-long determination to stand up for children who cannot speak for themselves.

But A Boy's War is not about that kind of boarding school.  It's about the amazing resilience of children, who can thrive and even have a great deal of fun under very difficult circumstances if they are supported by those who provide love and a semblance of stability.  David Michell was the son of Australian missionaries to China, one of many children sent off at the age of six to the far-away Chefoo School of the China Inland Mission.  A few years later, Japanese invaders had taken the entire school captive, and eventually the students, teachers, and staff ended up at the infamous Weihsien Concentration Camp, where Olympic champion Eric Liddell died and is buried.

This is the story of heroic teachers and other school personnel, who managed to create for the children in their care something remarkably resembling normal life—including a good education—under circumstances of incarceration, overcrowding, filth, hunger, and ever-present fear, disease, and death.  Told from the boys' point of view, the loving sacrifices of the adults are more implicit than graphic, and there's nothing inappropriate for children to read.  The book is short, under 200 pages, and the vocabulary unchallenging.  Unfortunately, however, it seems that the author was primarily writing for adults:  the story is not told in a way calculated to grab the interest of a child.  Otherwise, my copy would already be on its way to our eight-year-old adventure-story reader.  We'll see how he does with God's Smuggler, first.

The Zen of Fish: The Story of Sushi, from Samurai to Supermarket by Trevor Corson (HarperCollins, 2007)

Eating sushi is like rearing children:  there's always someone happy to point out that you're doing it all wrong.

Not that I care much.  So what if many of the rolls I love are American inventions?  If the Japanese consider them to be inside-out rolls?  If adding more seasoning to your roll is an insult to the chef?  (Well, I suppose I care a bit more about the last.  I don't like insulting people, especially not those who are providing my dinner.  Then again, I'm the one eating it.)  I like Japanese sushi; I like American sushi; and I don't mind being too unsophisticated to enjoy the sea urchin and raw quail egg combo that Porter ordered in Boston.

However, I was happy to learn that sushi is meant to be eaten with the fingers, not chopsticks.  And eaten in one bite—though I'm not sure how.  Do the Japanese have larger mouths than Americans?  Seems unlikely.

The Zen of Fish weaves the history, science, and culture of America's unexpected food craze together with the adventures of students at the California Sushi Academy.  It's well-written, highly informative, fun to read, and will make you very hungry—when it's not causing you to rethink consuming fish in any form.  My only complaint is that the author apparently considered his target audience to be largely made up of adolescent boys.  I could have done without most of the sexual references and innuendo—although it was quite cool to learn about the shrimp that start out male, then after a few years become female.  The timing of the change assures a gender-balanced population, suggesting perhaps that shrimp are smarter than people.

Okay, even writing about sushi makes me hungry.

The Corpse Walker: Real Life Stories, China from the Bottom Up by Liao Yiwu, translated by Wen Huang (Pantheon, 2008)

With a title like The Corpse Walker, you might expect this to be a frightening book.  And you would be correct.  But there's not a zombie in sight.

We are so Euro-centric.  We repeatedly hold up Adolf Hitler and Nazi Germany as the epitome of evil.  If pressed, we might acknowledge Joseph Stalin, but Russia is more distant, foreign, and unknown than Germany.  Compared with Mao Zedong's China, however ... well, you can read more about that in this article on democide.

The Lord of the Flies meets 1984.  Liao Yiwu's book is must reading for anyone who still hangs on to the idea that unfettered human nature is basically good, or that the acquisition of power is not one of the most deadly, corrupting circumstances ever.

Although Liao Yiwu is still an outlawed writer on the run from the Chinese government, you won't find many complaints about present-day China in this collection of interviews; it may not be safe to criticize the Communist government of the past, but it's a whole lot safer than criticizing the Communist government of the present.  However, the view of Chinese history through the eyes of the survivors of the past sixty years may be crucial to understanding the Chinese of today.

Take a puppy, abuse him, kick him, mistreat him—he'll revert to feral carnivore. Take his litter brother, pet him, talk to him, let him sleep with you, but train him—he's a happy, well-behaved house pet. Take another from that same litter, pet him on even days and kick him on odd days. You'll have him so confused that he'll be ruined for either role; he can't survive as a wild animal and he doesn't understand what is expected of a pet. Pretty soon he won't eat, he won't sleep, he can't control his functions; he just cowers and shivers. — Robert Heinlein

Humans aren't puppies, and the Chinese people aren't cowering and shivering.  But without a doubt they have had too much of being petted on even days and kicked on odd days.  But kicked a whole lot more than petted.  Perhaps this (almost certainly apocryphal) story of Stalin is more appropriate:

On his deathbed, Stalin summoned two likely successors to his side, to test which one of the two had a better knack for ruling the country.  He ordered two birds to be brought in, and presented one bird to each of the two candidates.  He then instructed each of them to make sure that the bird did not fly away.  The first candidate, terrified that the bird would fly free, squeezed the poor creature so tightly that when he opened his palm, the bird was dead.  Seeing the disapproving look on Stalin's face and being afraid to repeat his rival's mistake, the second candidate loosened his grip so much that the bird freed himself and flew away.

Stalin looked at both of them scornfully. "Bring me a bird!' he thundered. They did. Stalin took the bird by its legs and slowly, one by one, he plucked each feather of this poor creature from its tiny little body.  Then he opened his palm. The bird lay there naked, helpless, and shivering.  Stalin looked up, smiled gently, and said, "You see, this little bird is thankful for the human warmth of my palm."

I fear that those who prescribe free-market capitalism as the secret to democratizing China are as wrong as those who believe a severely abused child can be healed merely by placing him in a loving home.  China has a lot of healing to do.  To be fair, many of the injuries were inflicted before Mao came to power; he only made them infinitely worse by taking away what little stability the country had.  If the life of a peasant had been grinding misery, it was not improved by mass starvation.  If the country had been controlled by rival gangs of thugs, it was not made safer by a government of thugs.  If the traditions that ruled Chinese society had been onerous and discriminatory, destroying those traditions left the Chinese with no history, no foundation, no moral compass.

We joined the Communist revolution so we could live a better life, have enough to eat, marry a beautiful woman, and raise a family.  This basic concept was totally distorted in the Mao era.  All we talked about were the abstract ideas such as the Party and the People.  Private lives were considered something disgraceful.  You can't marry the Party or the People, can you?  We used to hear phony stuff like "So-and-so has been nurtured by the Party and the People."  What do the Party's breasts look like?

But I am giving you the entirely false impression that The Corpse Walker is about politics.  It's not.  It's about people.  Ordinary people, who have had extraordinary things happen to them.  Some are uniquely Chinese; some could be from anywhere.  Meet the Human Trafficker, whose entry into the trade began with selling his own daughters—"What do they know about happiness?  My daughters are the children of a poor peasant.  As long as their husbands have dicks, that's all I care."  The next time you eat vegetables, think about the Public Restroom Manager and how Chinese fields are fertilized.  Fear the unrepentant Former Red Guard—"Ï was born into a family of blue-collar workers.  The Cultural Revolution offered me the opportunity to finally trample on those elite.  It was glorious.  I couldn't get enough of it."  See the 20th century through the eyes of a 103-year-old Buddhist abbot.  Meet survivors who endured unthinkable tortures.  Marvel at how resilient is the human spirit, and tremble at how quickly ordinary people learn to commit extraordinary evil.

A book's impact depends heavily on its translator, and Wen Huang is clearly fluent in English.  Perhaps too fluent, or at least too familiar with slang and other informal language, which gives the dialogue an occasional jarring note.  Profanity from the mouth of the human trafficker is unpleasant to read, but he is an unpleasant person and his words less shocking than his attitudes.  But for higher-class, otherwise articulate, elders to use phrases like "an old fart," "making the big bucks," and "I was so grossed out" is incongruous and detracts somewhat from the stories.

You're still wondering about the title, aren't you?  It comes from the practice of returning the dead to their hometowns by literally walking them from place to place.  It is by no means the most macabre of the stories.  I could have said, "The Lord of the Flies meets 1984 meets the Donner Party."

The Duggar Family is just about the only reason I might wish, a little bit, that we had cable television.  Not really; Netflix has spoiled me for watching anything I can't control.  But Netflix has also failed me, not offering any but the first two seasons of their show.  As a result, I'm 'way behind on their story, other than the little snippets I can see on Hulu.  So I can't write the (long) post I want to.  Instead, I'll summarize everything I'd hoped to say this way:

• There are many things I like about their lives and the way they are raising their children.
• There are many things I don't like about their lives and the way they are raising their children.
• I don't understand the extreme reactions the family has provoked:
  • Not those who treat them like rock stars, standing worshipfully in line for hours just to see them at a book signing.
  • Even less those who treat them as if they were evil incarnate, responding with vicious, hateful, ignorant comments.
• No one can ever adequately judge a family while it is still a work "in process."  But I will note three things:
  
  • They have been under an intense media spotlight for years; major politicians get less scrutiny.  They've been interviewed, filmed, followed, and written about by journalists from all over the world.  If they were hiding some dirty little secret, it would be known by now.
  • The children (ranging in age from one to 23) are clearly well-behaved, pleasant, active, helpful, and happy.
  • The parents are incredibly gracious in their responses to, and understanding of, those who question or misunderstand them.

I say, more power to them, and congratulations on expecting #20!  Netflix, are you listening?

Here's a video from the Today Show that considers why the Duggar Family might elicit such strong reactions.