books for calvin

:: back at it ::

2008-09-01T15:20:00.010-05:00

As is typical lately, health issues have given me a run for my money. It's made research a challenge, that's for sure. But I find that God helps me just in the nick of time. Like today ~ sun-filled, hopeful, notable brain activity, and I can't help but see inspiration ....

Mr. Sock Monkey keeps popping up everywhere, never failing to make me smile. That PaperBlanks journal is an eye-catcher, too, filled w/my wretched penmanship. And the book re^mark .... I love visuals:

I'm oh so grateful for my comfy chair:

I'm writing about a poet for my next Curator article, so the left hand inspiration wire is full of beautiful words:

Such as, a handout from an HBU conference I attended ~ "Credo: the Arts as Expressions of Belief." The quote by Marilynne Robinson is on my brain:

"It has seemed to me sometimes as though the Lord breathes on this poor gray ember of Creation and it turns to radiance - for a moment or a year or the span of a life. And then it sinks back into itself again, and to look at it no one would know it had anything to do with fire, or light .... Wherever you turn your eyes the world can shine like transfiguration. You don't have to bring a thing to it except a little willingness to see. Only, who could have the courage to see it? .... Theologians talk about a prevenient grace that precedes grace itself and allows us to accept it. I think there must also be a prevenient courage that allows us to be brave - that is, to acknowledge that there is more beauty than our eyes can bear, that precious things have been put into our hands and to do nothing to honor them is to do great harm."
[from her must-read book, Gilead. I should mention that Marilynne Robinson was at that conference. IN PERSON. She read aloud from Gilead. I stupidly did not talk to her b/c I'm too shy.]

[directly above lamplight]

[L to R] 1. A card from my Mom w/a funny quote by Flannery O'Connor:

"Everywhere I go I'm asked if I think the universities stifle writers. My opinion is that they don't stifle enough of them."

2. A Guerilla Poetics Project broadside with a pretty blue heron (J. and I saw a blue heron while on a neighborhood walk last week). It reads:

Blue Heron

This is what I left behind--a blue heron
in a perfect chaos of trees. An estuary
for wintering. The sweet
old troubles.

A small boat
on the tide.

A long figure
waving.

Tell me this, blue heron:

Can one make a life
small enough to take
anywhere, and live in,
even as it looms
over us
darkly, at times?

--Sharon Kessler

[I am sadly behind on hiding poems]

I'm happy to say that I've nailed down my Curator writing topics through January '09. They are very inspiring subjects, semi-distracting me from this poet-article. Such a lovely problem, though.

:: the curator ::

2008-08-29T13:15:00.002-05:00

[a repeat post from dreams of genevieve]

I'm happy to announce that The Curator launched today! Look to your right for a button to click ~ I'm in love with that logo designed by John Hendrix.

[if you'd like to add a Curator button to your blog or web site, just shoot me an e-mail (see my profile) and I'll send you the code]

Obviously, I'm excited to be published, but even more than publication, I cannot wait to sit down and read the other articles. The Curator is exactly the type of web zine I live to read, so I'm thrilled and thankful to be part of such a great group of writers. The mission of The Curator is right up my alley, too. I agree wholeheartedly with this excerpt from Alissa Wilkinson's editorial, "Why The Curator?":

"Here, we’re providing a place for you to find artifacts of culture which we believe are worthy of your time, either to contemplate as a reflection of the good, the beautiful, and the true, or to cause you to ask important questions about the many dimensions of humanity - thought, expression, faith, citizenship, mortality, recreation, and our relationships with ourselves and each other. Our goal is that you will find the ideas and cultural objects presented in The Curator to be fresh, insightful, and thoroughly worthy of your attention."

Here's the table of contents for this first edition:

Why The Curator?
Alissa Wilkinson
Why do we need another culture magazine?

Three Sanctuaries
Jenni Simmons
A look at the de Menil collections in Houston and the idea of sanctuary.

Mütter Museum’s Gruesome Grace
Rebecca Tirrell Talbot
Seeing the human story in beauty’s ravages.

The Redemptive Power of Forgiveness
Christy Tennant
A cinematic look at revenge, brokenness, and forgiveness.

McCain, Barack, and 30 Rock
Alisa Harris
Timely television for a real-life political circus.

On Being in Strange Places
Wayne Adams
Religion and art collide in an unlikely place.

Vive le Salon!
Samuel Kho
An interview with Los Angeles art salon host, Ryan Callis.

Rethinking What It Means to Be “Made In America”
Sarah Hanssen
Entering a hopeless world to find humanity.

Pay Attention to that Man Behind the Curtain
Kevin Gosa
How one man's creativity can change the course of history - through rock and roll.

Intro to Pastry
Daniel Nayeri
Luxury, necessities, and cake.

Yes, Video Games are Art
Matt Cox
Finding beauty in an unexpected avenue.

Enjoy your reading (and thank you for doing so). I'd love to hear your thoughts.

:: the story of edgar sawtelle ::

2008-08-21T11:15:00.004-05:00

This morning, I read an e-mail from a great bookstore here in town: Brazos Bookstore. They mentioned a long list of books that come highly recommended, one of which I've heard a lot about, as in lots of praise. It's a novel called The Story of Edgar Sawtelle by David Wroblewski:

From goodreads:

"Born mute, speaking only in sign, Edgar Sawtelle leads an idyllic life with his parents on their farm in remote northern Wisconsin. For generations, the Sawtelles have raised and trained a fictional breed of dog whose thoughtful companionship is epitomized by Almondine, Edgar's lifelong friend and ally. But with the unexpected return of Claude, Edgar's paternal uncle, turmoil consumes the Sawtelles' once peaceful home. When Edgar's father dies suddenly, Claude insinuates himself into the life of the farm and into Edgar's mother's affections.

Grief-stricken and bewildered, Edgar tries to prove Claude played a role in his father's death, but his plan backfires spectacularly. Forced to flee into the vast wilderness lying beyond the farm, Edgar comes of age in the wild, fighting for his survival and that of the three yearling dogs who follow him. But his need to face his father's murderer and his devotion to the Sawtelle dogs turn Edgar ever homeward.

David Wroblewski is a master storyteller, and his breathtaking scenes—the elemental north woods, the sweep of seasons, an iconic American barn, a fateful vision rendered in the falling rain—create a riveting family saga, a brilliant exploration of the limits of language, and a compulsively readable modern classic."

And isn't the cover art gorgeous?

:: a poem ::

2008-08-19T19:20:00.003-05:00

[I read this aloud to myself today]

Carol of Brother Ass
by Vassar Miller

In the barnyard of my bone
Let the animals kneel down -
Neither ecstasy nor anger,
Wrath nor mildness need hide longer,
On the branching veins together
Dove may sing with hawk her brother.

Let the river of my blood
Turned by star to golden flood
Be the wholesome radiance
Where the subtle flesh may dance,
Where the only bait to bite
Dangles from the lures of light.

Let the deep angelic strain
Pierce the hollows of my brain;
Struck for want of better bell,
Every nerve grow musical;
Make my thews and sinews hum
And my tautened skin a drum.

Bend, astonished, haughty head
Ringing with the shepherd's tread;
Heart, suspended, rib to rib,
Rock the Christ Child in your crib,
Till so hidden, Love afresh
Lovely walks the world in flesh.

:: september is too far away ::

2008-08-19T11:15:00.005-05:00

I'm a happy camper today. I pre-ordered Marilynne Robinson's novel, Home, which releases on September 2nd. (!)

From goodreads:

"Hundreds of thousands were enthralled by the luminous voice of John Ames in Gilead, Marilynne Robinson’s Pulitzer Prize–winning novel. Home is an entirely independent, deeply affecting novel that transpires concurrently in the same locale, this time in the household of Reverend Robert Boughton, Ames’s closest friend. Glory Boughton, aged thirty-eight, has returned to Gilead to care for her dying father. Soon her brother, Jack — the prodigal son of the family, gone for twenty years — comes home, too, looking for refuge and trying to make peace with a past littered with tormenting trouble and pain. Jack is one of the great characters in recent literature. A bad boy from childhood, an alcoholic who cannot hold a job, he is perpetually at odds with his surroundings and with his traditionalist father, though he remains Boughton’s most beloved child. Brilliant, lovable, and wayward, Jack forges an intense bond with Glory and engages painfully with Ames, his godfather and namesake. Home is a moving and healing book about families, family secrets, and the passing of the generations, about love and death and faith. It is Robinson’s greatest work, an unforgettable embodiment of the deepest and most universal emotions."

Anyone else geeked up along with me??

Also, thanks to Alissa, I'm reading this fantastic essay on Cosmic Realism, a literary style written by the likes of Annie Dillard and Marilynne Robinson. Great brain-food. Very inspiring.

:: kaboom books ::

2008-08-14T15:45:00.013-05:00

We visited Kaboom Books yesterday, a small bookstore within walking distance of our Church. I've been dying to visit ever since I spied bookshelf upon bookshelf in a charming storefront we pass every Sunday while driving home. There's a space a few doors down that seems to be transitioning to a café or coffee shop. Oh, please, God! Kaboom's web site will improve soon, but for now you can see a glimpse of just how many books are in that place.

We opened a heavy door into a true book haven. A nice lady greeted us who I believe is married to the other owner - a kind, quiet man. Their two dogs were also very friendly, trotting around the aisles. It took me about five seconds to decide that I'm bound to return often. Kaboom is across town from our house, but since we're at Church 1-2 times per week, more book purchases seem likely. I can hardly wait for the weather to turn cooler this autumn. Our Church's neighborhood is perfect for strolling over to the bookstore; admiring bungalows, crepe myrtles, and oak trees along the way.

Kaboom is a long, narrow store, every wall covered with tall, wooden bookshelves. The interior space is filled with more shelves which create a maze of genres: fiction, poetry, humor, nautical, children's, reference, political science, literary criticism, history, essays, music, art, architecture, first editions, film, and religion. I've been to many a bookstore, but I was truly impressed by the wide variety and bountiful selection. After his wife left for the day, I told the other owner I could stay in his store for hours. He said, "Then you'd have to alphabetize for me." No problem - I used to work at Half Price Books, after all. I still find myself straightening shelves in any bookstore I visit. Sad, isn't it?

Johnny initially said I could choose one book which was fine by me, but when I revealed my finds, he looked at the inexpensive prices and said, "Heck, they're cheap. Let's get all three." 3 + his own choice = 4.

For Johnny:
Grendel Archives by Matt Wagner.

For Jenni:
The Best American Spiritual Writing 2006 edited by Philip Zaleski.
[includes work by Wendell Berry, Scott Cairns, Michael Chabon, Alan Jacobs, Richard John Neuhaus, and John Updike, among several others]

For both:
-The Mind of the Maker by Dorothy L. Sayers, introduction by Madeleine L'Engle.
-Brendan: a Novel by Frederick Buechner.

I also considered Prodigal Summer by Barbara Kingsolver, The Waste Land by T.S. Eliot, and The Professor and the Madman: a Tale of Murder, Insanity, and the Making of the Oxford English Dictionary by Simon Winchester, but those will have to wait for another shopping spree. I really wish I had searched for novels by Ron Hansen.

After we finished shopping, we drove less than a minute over to Church, just in time for the potluck dinner. I carried my lunch box packed w/yeast-free eats, and much to my happiness, a friend cooked a delicious navy bean soup full of safe ingredients. For the past several Wednesdays, our pastor read an Epistle aloud. I've read Paul's letters and such fairly often, but it was a treat to hear them as the early Christians did - a letter in the mail, full of good news, read out loud. It also reminded me of what a lame letter-writer I am (I owe at least four people a handwritten letter).

However, our pastor wanted to do something a little different last night. We read the entire book of Esther the same way Jews do every spring during the Feast of Purim. Adults and children volunteered to read the parts of different characters: Mordecai, Esther, King Xerxes, Haman, and the King's and Queen Esther's servants; our pastor read the in-between narrations. Not only that, but Rev. Ellisor brought along toy horns and his son's noisiest toys - to make a boisterous racket whenever Haman's name was mentioned (he was "the bad guy", wanting to wipe out the Jews - Esther's people and God's chosen people). You can imagine what a blast the kids had making all that noise, and their glee was pretty contagious. I felt very reserved amidst all the silliness, yet I couldn't quit laughing. Just so you know, Johnny read the part of Mordecai. He also contributed to the noise-making by drumming on the table and creating inappropriate sounds, even with his armpit. Oh, Lord.

Back at home, I read in bed, and as I turned off the lamp, I fell asleep mulling over Buechner's description of Jacob's Ladder in The Son of Laughter. It was such a fun day full of books, the Bible, childlike frivolity, laughter, and in the end, vivid writing which brought that particular Jacob-story to life. As I said on dreams of genevieve, stories cover me like a healing balm, especially the good and true ones.

:: a poem ::

2008-08-14T13:20:00.002-05:00

Renewal
by Vassar Miller

I, like a stone
kneel while the waters
of prayer wash over me.

Like a hare havened
in its own stillness
I freeze against Thy whiteness.

Once more myself,
I feed upon
Thy manna of the minutes.

:: book re^marks ::

2008-08-13T12:30:00.005-05:00

My new favorite reading/writing aid? A Woodcut Alphabet book re^mark:

[photo courtesy of buyolympia]

It's a bookmark + 8-page notebook! Perfect for reading and taking notes. If you don't fancy that alphabet, there's also Space Journey, Rosy Rose, Majestic Mr. Owl, and Circle Code. Only $2.50 each and letterpress art to boot.

These All in Good Time file folders are brilliant as well:

[again, photo courtesy of buyolympia ~ one of my favorite online shops. Click each image to see larger.]

The folders read:
-Yesterday
-Today
-Tomorrow
-Next Week
-Next Month
-Who Knows

Perhaps the Procrastinate set is more appropriate to my behavior. Yes, I'm afraid so.

:: keep calm and carry on ::

2008-08-09T20:40:00.005-05:00

One more ~ another page I love from The Principles of Uncertainty:

[courtesy of The New York Times. Click the image to see larger.]

Very good advice for me in particular. At some point, I'll buy it in black & white to hang in our house where I can easily see the wisdom.

:: the principles of uncertainty ::

2008-08-09T13:13:00.015-05:00

Um, I've used that photo twice on my other blog, but I don't feel like snapping another pic today - how do you like that? See, I needed a photograph to show you that I'm digging Maira Kalman's book, The Principles of Uncertainty. Those two books up there were prizes for braving a TMJ appointment way back in January. I'm a w-i-m-p when it comes to most anything-dental, so rewards are necessary. I'm not that grown up yet.

I flipped through Kalman's book in January and 'twas lovely, but I set it aside for a long while, until yesterday. I sent a copy to a friend for her birthday and last night, she flipped out with excitement. So much enthusiasm that although it was past my bedtime, I stayed up reading 134 pages! I laughed, oohed, and ahed over Maira Kalman's writing and illustrations. I love her creative, eclectic, ever-asking brain.

Here's a partial description from goodreads:

"The Principles of Uncertainty is an irresistible invitation to experience life through the psyche of Maira Kalman, one of this country's most beloved artists. The result is a book that is part personal narrative, part documentary, part travelogue, part chapbook, and all Kalman. Her brilliant, whimsical paintings, ideas, and images - which initially appear random - ultimately form an intricately interconnected worldview, an idiosyncratic inner monologue. Kalman contends with some existential questions - What is identity? What is happiness? Why do we fight wars? And then, of course, death, love, and candy (not necessarily in that order)."

This book is also a compendium of columns that Maira Kalman did for The New York Times. You can view every single column on the newspaper's web site, but really, I believe her book is worth owning ~ to read again and again. For example, here are two of my favorite pages so far:

[these two images courtesy of The New York Times. Click each to see a bit larger.]

It is, as they say, a beautiful book. And now, I'm dying to re-read one of my favorite writers' resources - The Elements of Style, the edition illustrated by Maira Kalman. Maybe I'll go ahead and add some of her children's books to my future-kids' collection, too.

What an inspiring lady.

:: two by jane kenyon ::

2008-08-06T19:09:00.001-05:00

From Collected Poems ~

Afternoon in the House
by Jane Kenyon

It's quiet here. The cats
sprawl, each
in a favored place.
The geranium leans this way
to see if I'm writing about her:
head all petals, brown
stalks, and those green fans.
So you see,
I am writing about you.

I turn on the radio. Wrong.
Let's not have any noise
in this room, except
the sound of a voice reading a poem.
The cats request
The Meadow Mouse, by Theodore Roethke.

The house settles down on its haunches
for a doze.
I know you are with me, plants,
and cats - and even so, I'm frightened,
sitting in the middle of perfect
possibility.

Drink, Eat, Sleep
by Jane Kenyon

I never drink from this blue tin cup
speckled with white
without thinking of stars on a clear,
cold night - of Venus blazing low
over the leafless trees; and Canis
great and small - dogs without flesh,
fur, blood, or bone ... dogs made of light,
apparitions of cold light, with black
and trackless spaces in between....
The angel gave a little book
to the prophet, telling him to eat -
eat and tell of the end of time.
Strange food, infinitely strange,
but the pages were like honey
to his tongue....

:: deadline ::

2008-08-01T18:05:00.016-05:00

My first Curator article was due today and I met the deadline, yippee. Yesterday, I felt pretty good about the article. Today, not so much. I know this tension is every writer's dilemma, but since health issues sometimes interfere with my brain's function, I just hope the editor won't hate my writing. Gulp.

But I had plenty of visual/cranial fuel up in my cozy writing room:

[a good dictionary and Makoto Fujimura's book, River Grace (5/5 stars)]

[my bird-camouflage tote bag from Target. I use it to transport items up and down the stairs.]

[a nice, big window]

[pretty things. Our cat, Harley, attacked that iron bird a few days ago, totally thinking it was real.]

[a framed photo of baby-me and my grandmother, Nina, and a cool straw purse my Mom gave me (from The Blue Hand here in Houston - a shop to die for)]

[History of Art by H.W. Janson. I left it open like that due to the Rothko page on the right; I mentioned him in my article. That's de Kooning on the left there.]

[one of my favorite oversized books ~ Churches by Judith Dupré (introduction by Mario Botta). I snatched it from our coffee table because it contains a page on the Rothko Chapel which I also mentioned in my article.]

[another page in the book ~ Basilica San Marco in Venice, Italy. Seriously, Churches in America: get with the program.]

[yet another page ~ Borgund Stave Church in Borgund, Sogn, Norway. I love this Church because it whisks me away to one of my all-time favorite books, Kristin Lavransdatter by Sigrid Undset, set in medieval Norway.]

As for tonight, I'm gonna get lost in some reading and a cup of tea. Or watch a movie w/Johnny. Either way, time well spent.

:: more wendell berry ::

2008-07-31T12:10:00.002-05:00

I relate:

A Warning to My Readers
by Wendell Berry

Do not think me gentle
because I speak in praise
of gentleness, or elegant
because I honor the grace
that keeps this world. I am
a man crude as any,
gross of speech, intolerant,
stubborn, angry, full
of fits and furies. That I
may have spoken well
at times is not natural.
A wonder is what it is.

:: every writer needs a stapler, right? ::

2008-07-28T18:13:00.008-05:00

A few minutes ago, I stapled together articles that I printed off the web for research. Our black plastic stapler is OK, but at some point, I need this wooden stapler:

[photo courtesy of The Curiosity Shoppe]

It suits me very well.

:: what i'm reading ::

2008-07-27T17:05:00.006-05:00

-Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith & Art by Madeleine L'Engle.
-The Son of Laughter by Frederick Buechner (some of the best writing I've read in a long while).
-The newspaper.

I finished Makoto Fujimura's River Grace in one night. It's a short read, but 21 pages full of greatness - one to be read again and again.

I'm re-reading parts of The Quotidian Mysteries: Laundry, Liturgy, and "Women's Work". So good. One of my life-manuals.

I've also been reading fan-tastic quotes lately (thanks to goodreads), such as:

"The silence is all there is. It is the alpha and the omega, it is God's brooding over the face of the waters; it is the blinded note of the ten thousand things, the whine of wings. You take a step in the right direction to pray to this silence, and even to address the prayer to 'World.' Distinctions blur. Quit your tents. Pray without ceasing."
[-Annie Dillard]

"What a hideout: Holiness lies spread and borne over the surface of time and stuff like color."
[-Annie Dillard. I love her brain.]

"The writer should never be ashamed of staring. There is nothing that does not require his attention."
[-Flannery O'Connor. I love her brain, too.]

"If grace is so wonderful, why do we have such difficulty recognizing and accepting it? Maybe it's because grace is not gentle or made-to-order. It often comes disguised as loss, or failure, or unwelcome change."
[-Kathleen Norris. Need I say I love her brain?]

There were many others, then I ran across this amazing poem:

Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front
by Wendell Berry

Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.

So, friends, every day do something
that won't compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.
Denounce the government and embrace
the flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
has not encountered he has not destroyed.

Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millennium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.
Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.

Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion - put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts.
So long as women do not go cheap
for power, please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep
of a woman near to giving birth?

Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn't go. Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.

:: another poem ::

2008-07-13T13:09:00.001-05:00

From IMAGE #57:

Conversation at Heaven's Gate
by Kelli Russell Agodon

I

When my father meets God
he says, Let me introduce myself....

When my father meets God
he says, Am I too early? Too late?

When my father meets God
he says, Do you serve drinks here?

When my father meets God
he says, It was easier not to believe.

When my father meets God
he says, I can see my house from up here.

When my father meets God
there is only the sound of my father
falling.

When my father meets God
he says, I can breathe again.

When my father meets God
rain returns to the city.

II

When God meets my father
He says, Let me introduce myself...

When God meets my father
He says, Right on time, right on time.

When God meets my father
He says, Could I offer you an Irish car wreck?

When God meets my father
He says, It gets easier now that you're here.

When God meets my father
He says, I can see your house from up here.

When God meets my father
there in only the sound of God
catching him.

When God meets my father
He says, Welcome to your lungs.

When God meets my father
the city is cleaned for a new life.

:: a poem ~ normal ::

2008-07-11T11:53:00.005-05:00

Last night my husband and I watched the first half of The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford. We'll finish the movie tonight, but so far we are very impressed with the cinematography; and Casey Affleck's, Brad Pitt's, and Paul Schneider's acting. In fact, I really think Pitt should've received an Oscar nomination along with Affleck.

This morning I remembered the movie is based on a novel of the same name by Ron Hansen. I read Hansen's Mariette in Ecstasy a few years ago and liked it for the most part (4/5 stars). I also recalled that a back issue of IMAGE - #57 - contained an interview with Ron Hansen. I skimmed the Q & A, and now I want to read The Assassination of Jesse James, Atticus, Exiles, Hitler's Niece, and A Stay Against Confusion: Essays on Faith and Fiction.... I just have a feeling that Ron Hansen will be one of my favorite writers. My literary hunches are usually correct.

As I flipped through IMAGE #57, I discovered the following poem. It is worth sharing:

Normal
by Richard Jones

Tent Revival, 1957

When things get back to normal
God will put on black robes
and ascend to the mercy seat
to judge the world, the ruined
cities, the devastated hills,
the living and the risen dead.
When things get back to normal,
He'll open the Book of Life
and read what each man has done,
said, and written, reciting our words
and deeds to the angels to see
if there is any forgiveness
like honey on our tongues.
When things get back to normal
all will stand before God
and be burned like dead branches
or blessed with the incomprehensible fire
of mercy. When things get back to normal,
we will be standing on the threshold of heaven,
a kingdom of singing where at last we will learn
the meaning and purpose
of poetry.

:: slow reading ::

2008-07-01T12:49:00.010-05:00

I loved Peggy Rosenthal's blog entry about slow reading over on Good Letters. You see, though I read a lot, and often many different books & periodicals at the same time, I'm a slow reader. God made me this way, and also, I simply enjoy reading slow. I do read some books faster than others, but more often than not, I take my time - soak in the words, the sentences, the story, the visuals, the ideas, and so on.

A long time ago, I worried that my slow reading made me dumb or of a low intellect. But in the fourth grade, I was placed in an advanced reading class. I felt all special because I got to visit a fifth grade classroom every week, huddle around a wooden table with a few other advanced classmates, and learn along with older kids. I suppose if I was "so dumb" those teachers wouldn't have selected me for such a class.

In more recent years, I read an article by an author (I wish I could remember....) who basically said that good writers learn from what they read, so they ought to take it slow - not scarf down a book like a fast food meal. Allow the book to nurture you, feed you. That cheered my writer-wannabe soul.

All of that to say, I've enjoyed the art of slow reading this week:

-I had trouble reading The Maytrees a few months ago. This greatly troubled me because Annie Dillard is one of my all-time favorite writers. Pilgrim at Tinker Creek changed my life. After reading Rosenthal's blog entry in which she mentions The Maytrees, I figured out that I was trying to sprint through the book instead of savoring. I am almost finished and now that I've slowed down, I'm in awe of Dillard's writing once again. Her way with words is precisely why I joined the facebook group, "If Annie Dillard writes it, I will read it."

-Much to my happiness, the July/Aug. 2008 issue of Poetry arrived. Have I mentioned that I love when a poem complements the weather going on outside our windows? Houston has been quite rainy and stormy the past week, yet the sun shines today. I found the following poem to be lovely:

The Storm is Over
by Jason Guriel

But now it's raining
below the greener clouds
of trees that were absorbent
but only up to a point.
And these raindrops
strained by treetops
should (you would think)
be filtered and finer
and therefore pure
(and not Chinese
water torture's
fatter, darker drops
that always pick out
of all possible bull's-eyes
your bald spot).
But these are late, last drops
and a little bloated
like late, last poems
by name your poet.

[that poem is fun to read aloud ~ most of it sounds exactly like the aftermath of rain]

-My friend Matt kindly sent us a subscription to The Sun. I used to subscribe to this magazine full of beautiful photography, interviews, essays & memoirs, short stories, poetry, liberal politics (I'm conservative), and the Readers Write section - I mean to contribute one of these days. But I chose not to renew my subscription last time to save a few bucks. So you can imagine my wide smile when I discovered Matt's gift in our mailbox! Issue 391 contains an interview with the great Wendell Berry. His brain fascinates me. I didn't agree with everything he said, though he is full of wisdom. I loved this quote:

"Real reading, of course, is a kind of work. But it's lovely work. To read well, you have to respond actively to what the writer's saying. You can't just lie there on the couch and let it pour over you. You may have to read with a pencil in hand and underline passages and write notes in the margins. The poet John Milton understood that the best readers are rare. He prayed to his muse that he might a 'fit audience find, though few.'"

-My friend Brett urged me to read Hinds' Feet on High Places - one of her favorite books. At first, I didn't want to because I decided it wasn't "my kind" of book. But I trust Brett implicitly, so I read a few pages of the Christian allegory, read a few more pages, and then I was hooked. I totally relate to the character "Much-Afraid." Not only that, but I realized with horror that at times, I might be a literary snob! I can't have that. Hinds' Feet is turning out to be both a good read for adults, and one I'd love to read to my future children.

-Oh, and the above photo is my end table next to the upstairs sofa (I love Audrey Hepburn movies). Here is my husband's end table with one of his heroes:

[the coasters are gifts from my Mom-in-law]

:: the invisible cure ::

2008-06-29T15:13:00.003-05:00

I subscribe to the Sunday edition of The New York Times, and I always read the Book Review first. Today, a particular book caught my eye in a small mention on page 24 ("Paperback Row"). The book? The Invisible Cure: Africa, the West, and the Fight Against AIDS. Here's an excerpt from this New York Times review, dated July 29, 2007:

"Halfway through 'The Invisible Cure,' Helen Epstein writes about finding a long-forgotten document in a small research library in Canada. Reading through the paper, Epstein says, 'I felt as though a small stick of dynamite had gone off in my head.' Epstein had unearthed a rare copy of a detailed study on the sexual behavior of Ugandans in the late 1980s and early ’90s, a period that coincided with the country’s historic drop in H.I.V. rates. In short, Epstein knew, the research done by Maxine Ankrah, an African-American academic, would give invaluable insights into what had halted the epidemic — insights that could then be applied to other countries with high rates of H.I.V. and AIDS.

Before Epstein’s discovery, Ankrah’s research seemed destined for oblivion. A United Nations AIDS researcher had read it, failed to understand its significance or to credit it and, Epstein recounts, wrongly concluded that an increase in condom use was responsible for the decrease of the H.I.V. rate in Uganda. In reality, according to three later analyses of Ankrah’s study, the primary reason for the decline was completely different: substantial numbers of Ugandans had ended affairs and remained faithful to one partner."

This book doesn't seem to espouse Christianity, yet it does encourage partner fidelity. To take it a step higher, marital fidelity is one aspect of God's design for human life. And seeing as the Gospel is spreading through Uganda like wildfire, it makes The Invisible Cure all the more intriguing. I do believe Ms. Epstein is onto something true.

:: siringo ::

2008-06-29T13:02:00.002-05:00

Well, I finished So Brave, Young, and Handsome, and just as I expected, I fell in love with Leif Enger's characters once again. I will admit this book starts out slower than Peace Like a River, but I promise that if you stick with it, you'll be hard-pressed to put the book down, dying to know just how Glendon's and Monte's journey ends.

As I read So Brave, Young, and Handsome, I was thrilled to find a subtle nod to Peace Like a River in this description of Charles Siringo:

"His sentiments for the most part were vengeful and emerged from experiences so long at a simmer that he spoke in what amounted to strong verse about those who had wronged him. I was surprised to learn he had been fired by the Pinkerton Agency years before; he gave an eloquent screed on the decayed character of Allan Pinkerton, whose 'spine went missing at birth.' To a cowardly pard who had fled gunfire he gave a scorching epitaph. Strangely his softest words were for certain of the outlaws he had hunted: Butch Cassidy, whom he never saw in the flesh through four years of pursuit; the surgeon and gentleman gunsmith Howard Cawley, whose talent for baking cinnamon rolls made him welcome at Hole in the Wall; and Glendon, whom Siringo referred to as 'that gentle bastard.'"
[pages 148-149]

I think Leif Enger should share the exact cinnamon roll recipe, don't you?

And, I'm proud to say that my husband is finally reading Peace Like a River (after I bugged him to death). He now understands why I'm so geeked up about Enger's stories. Johnny is reading quite fast, and loves Swede's poems.

:: bookish podcasts ::

2008-06-21T13:19:00.007-05:00

I do love a good podcast, especially if it involves the arts. I like to listen in our home while sipping tea, cleaning, or resting my eyes. Or load up my iPod for driving around town. I don't know about your locale, but Houston radio sucks other than KUHF which features many NPR broadcasts. Even then, it's hard to catch those programs at the right time, so podcasts are much more convenient.

Seeing as this blog revolves around all things literary, I thought it would be a good idea to list my favorite bookish podcasts, for you fellow listeners:

-The Writer's Almanac.
-The New York Times Book Review.
-Audition (from Mars Hill Audio).
-NPR's Fresh Air. This is one of my favorite podcasts in general, and Terry Gross often interviews great authors.
-NPR's Book Tour. Alissa hipped me to this one, specifically because it's all about Leif Enger this week. He talks about writing Peace Like a River, reads from his newest book - So Brave, Young, and Handsome - etc.. It is time well spent.
-Lindsay mentioned the Poetry Foundation's Poetry Off the Shelf which I now love, and then I discovered that the P.F. offers several other poetry-related podcasts. Oh, goodie.

I get terribly behind on my podcast-listening, but it's good to know they're around, for my ears' sake.

Do you have a favorite bookish podcast you'd like to share?

:: books & culture ::

2008-06-20T14:32:00.010-05:00

I subscribed to Books & Culture: a Christian Review several years ago with no complaints. The publication was right up my intellectual alley; full of eloquent, lengthy book reviews spanning literature, poetry, politics, philosophy, Christianity, history, the arts, science, etc.. Of course, it fed my book addiction, but there are worse cravings in life. At some point, I decided to cancel my subscription, and it was an extremely difficult choice for me. I dwelt alone in an old, charming studio apartment behind one of my favorite cafés in Houston (Empire), and well, my budget was tight. I missed finding Books & Culture in my mailbox, but somehow I found the strength to go on. Mostly through inexpensive paperbacks from Half Price Books.

Fast forward to now - I'm married, live in a house, and our budget is not so lean. And, I recently received a writing opportunity made of the stuff of my dreams. I can't share much about it yet. What I can divulge is that it's a forthcoming online magazine called The Curator, it's tied to IAM, Alissa Wilkinson is the editor, and I'm one of the writers. While I'm slightly intimidated, I'll get to write about most of the eclectic, artful things my brain leans toward - books most definitely included. I am grateful and excited.

All of that to say, I honestly believe it was important to renew my subscription to Books & Culture. I did so a few weeks ago, and since then, I've impatiently awaited the arrival of my first issue. Really, patience is not one of my top five virtues. Yesterday, finally, the May/June 2008 issue was folded in our mailbox. Oh boy, oh boy! It felt great to hold the oversized periodical in my hands again. Here's a glimpse of this incredible issue:

-Philip Yancey on pain.
-Rayyan Al-Shawaf on headscarves.
-Jon Shields on hippies of the religious right.
-Lauren Winner, Heather Curtis, and David Graham on healing.
-Chandra Mallampalli and Robert Frykenberg on India.
-An interview with Christian Wiman - poet, essayist, and editor of Poetry magazine.
-A poem - "Celan" - by Marly Youmans.
-A long, fascinating review of a movie I want to see ASAP: There Will be Blood.
-And so on.

By the way, you ought to read the following by editor John Wilson:

"In the very first issue of Books & Culture, September/October 1995, I quoted from an interview with the Native American poet Joy Harjo that appeared in the Spring 1995 issue of the Indiana Review. 'There's no sense engaging evangelical Christianity,' Harjo said in that interview. 'You can't engage something like that, because they don't encourage interaction and thinking for yourself.' In one respect, Harjo was dead on. Not only evangelicals but all orthodox Christians share a sense of our fallenness. We need help. 'Thinking for yourself' is a prideful delusion.

But that doesn't mean we stop thinking, period. And it shouldn't mean that we retreat from engagement with others who think differently - like Joy Harjo, whom I've read with interest for years now - though that temptation is one to which evangelicals have sometimes succumbed. Retreat into a cozy enclave? Not at all. We hope that readers of Books & Culture glimpse in our pages the largeness of Creation, God as maker, as artist (not least as musician), God as gratuitous giver, God as always exceeding our grasp. The unpredictability and many-sidedness of things. The need for historical perspective, whatever the subject."

If Books & Culture appeals to you, too, visit their web site to sign up for a free trial issue. How 'bout that?

Now I'm anxiously waiting for my first issue of Poetry magazine. Yep, I subscribed to that one as well. I love to read good poetry. My friend Allison gave me a back issue with a lovely cover, and then I was hooked:

Who agrees that good cover art is essential for books and periodicals alike?

:: the bookworm shop ::

2008-06-05T17:54:00.006-05:00

[Milo]

An excerpt from my other blog:

"As you can see there, I did find two books at The Bookworm Shop. My brother strongly urged me to read Hiroshima, and my aunt did the same with The Year of Magical Thinking. They say those two are hard/sad reads, but important ones, and both were inexpensive, used copies. As the name implies, The Bookworm Shop was a charming place. Not too small, yet not oversized, either, and full of new & used books. There were chairs and couches, and fun gift items, too."

Also, I received an e-mail from The Brazos Bookstore about an upcoming author event with Jeannie Ralston. I don't know if it's my love for lavender or Texas, or both, but I really want to read The Unlikely Lavender Queen.

From goodreads:

"Jeannie Ralston had a flourishing career in her beloved New York, but meeting the love of her life would change all that. Robb, her husband-to-be and a photographer for National Geographic, hated the city and longed to settle down in the country. Jeannie was loath to leave her urban lifestyle — until they struck a bargain: she'd move to rural Texas if he would agree to start a family.

The Unlikely Lavender Queen is Ralston’s memoir of her life as an urban settler in rural Texas. She chronicles the experience of converting a dilapidated barn into a livable home, records with wit and bemusement her nostalgia for everything from lattes to liberals, lays bare her loneliness during Robb’s frequent National Geographic photo assignments, and raises the doubts that plague so many women of her generation — has she given up too much?

When Robb returns from a trip to Provence with a plan for starting a lavender farm on their land, Jeannie, a mother of two, is skeptical. But much to her surprise, in the course of managing the farm she discovers a new side of herself. By selling blooms to local florists, opening the farm to the public, and developing a number of lavender-related products, Ralston turns Hill Country Lavender into a thriving enterprise — and her life into an unexpected adventure."

I think I could live on a lavender farm ~ how 'bout you?

:: waiting for september ::

2008-05-31T12:08:00.005-05:00

After you fall in love with Housekeeping and Gilead, y'all can join my excitement over something I read yesterday.... A new Marilynne Robinson novel will be published in September 2008! I read on Wikipedia (and elsewhere), "Home is a companion piece to Gilead, focusing on the Boughton family during the same time period that Gilead covers."

Normally, I'd be nervous if an author tried to follow up such a rich story as Gilead, but I trust Marilynne Robinson, much like I trust Leif Enger. I loved Gilead so much that with confidence in this author, I'm excited to be reacquainted with the Boughton family. And I'm [selfishly] relieved that Robinson did not wait another 20 (or so) years to write her 3rd novel. God is good.

FYI, Marilynne Robinson also wrote two books of essays. I own a copy of The Death of Adam, sitting on a shelf upstairs, but I haven't read it yet. Will soon.

P.S. - [on my other blog, read towards the end of "she & him (and more)" and "upstairs" to see how musician Lori Chaffer persuaded me to read J.D. Salinger's Franny and Zooey ASAP, and actress/musician Zooey Deschanel did likewise with Ernest Hemingway's A Moveable Feast. There's so much to read in the world.]

:: marilynne robinson interview ::

2008-05-28T15:38:00.006-05:00

The Rabbit Room (one of my favorite blogs) posted an NPR interview with Marilynne Robinson (one of my favorite authors). Terry Gross asked Robinson about her second novel, Gilead. The interview is a worthwhile listen, and you already know I believe Gilead is a must-read book.

But did you know that Marilynne Robinson and I share the same birth date - November 26th? I think that's important somehow.

:: it's getting good ::

2008-05-27T13:02:00.001-05:00

I liked So Brave, Young, and Handsome straight away, but late last night, around page 37, I thought, "Uh oh. Leif Enger did it again. How will I ever be able to put this book down?" Since I was weary to the bone, I found a way, but needless to say, whatever Enger writes - be it the phone book, grocery lists, etc. - I will read it.

Here's one quote that I read over and over, just for the sheer beauty:

"And so I rose each day and dipped my nib. I filled my hopeless quota. I was the Dickensian halfwit who composes letters by the hour, only to make them into kites and fly them up to God."
[page 22]

And, here's a description I found to be charming:

"It pleased Glendon to make shiny inlaid sections in the small foredeck of his Dobie Swifts. He generally shaped copper or bronze to the profile of a bird in flight - aglow with polish, they were pretty and simple as sonnets."
[page 26]

To entice you a little further, some of the character's names (so far) are Monte Becket, his wife Susannah, Redstart (their son), and Glendon Hale. It's fun to meet new characters, huh? Leif Enger's second book is getting good, folks.

And oh, yeah - the ending of Christ the Lord: the Road to Cana choked me up. Anne Rice did it again, too. Andrea, you gotta read it ASAP so I can say more. No pressure.

:: a keeper ::

2008-05-24T13:41:00.011-05:00

I'm not finished with Christ the Lord: the Road to Cana yet, thank God. The only problem with a great book is the last page; I hate for such a good story to end. I love Anne Rice's imagination. I don't want to give anything away, especially since Andrea is planning to read The Road to Cana, but apparently, there's some controversy regarding the character of Avigail. However, that story line is choking me up with a beautiful parallel of how Christ loves the Church. Again, Anne Rice is brilliant.

Though I'm still immersed in Cana, I do know what my next fiction read will be. Last night, Johnny and I met my brother for Greek food - a good enough time in and of itself. But I was itching to wander around a bookstore w/coffee in hand. This should not surprise you. We visited one of my favorite stores in Houston: Bookstop, an old, renovated movie theater. I sipped an Americano - my new favorite drink.

In my defense, we did buy birthday gifts for two of our friends. And then, I walked by a display table of new, hardback fiction. You know what I saw ~ So Brave, Young, and Handsome by Leif Enger. It was 20% off, and I'm thankful my husband understands there are some books you simply must own. Besides, we want to pass down the best books to our [future] children (hence the name of this blog). I'm even more satisfied we spent money at Bookstop since there's talk of tearing it down - one of the most beautiful spaces in Houston. I'd make a purchase at Bookstop every week if it would do anything to save the historic landmark.

....I'll let you know how great Leif Enger's new novel is soon.

[a coconut milk latte w/cinnamon. I know what you're thinking, but it tasted great; like real milk. I swear. Hey, if you were dairy-deprived for several months, you'd try it, too.]

:: my writing room ::

2008-05-23T14:34:00.001-05:00

[vanilla black tea]

I goofed. I posted an entry about my writing room (and a few books), but I accidentally did so on my other blog. I should've typed over here - my reading & writing blog. DUH.

Oh, well. These things happen when you try to run two blogs. If you're curious about my writing room, please hop on over to dreams of genevieve....

:: a new book ::

2008-05-22T13:55:00.007-05:00

[coconut black tea there]

It's tough to follow up a book like Peace Like a River, but for an avid reader such as myself, it had to be done. I like to have both a fiction and non-fiction book going at all times. As for fiction, I pulled Christ the Lord: the Road to Cana off the shelf a few days ago, and since then, it's been very hard to put it down.

Selecting that book was not a hard choice. For one thing, I loved Christ the Lord: Out of Egypt. Both of Anne Rice's Christ the Lord books are pretty astounding. She honors Scripture within fiction, writes beautifully, and presents history accurately. As for how she describes Jesus - brilliant. Perhaps it seems controversial, but who hasn't sat around, imagining what Jesus was like - as a child, growing up, obeying Joseph & Mary, working as a carpenter, and all the while never sinning? We have a great account of Jesus in the Bible, of course, but I don't see any harm in using our God-given imaginations, as long as Scripture is not contradicted.

The Road to Cana was also an easy choice because my husband "oooh"-ed and "ah"-ed out loud when he read it last month. We usually read together in the living room at night. I sit in my spot on the couch sipping tea, and Johnny sits in a chair across the room sipping a martini (or Scotch). We get absorbed in whatever we're reading, and if we are impressed, we'll often say, "Hey, can I read you something real quick?" This annoys both of us, yet we continue to bug each other.

Last month, Johnny was convincing enough that Anne Rice's new book is making me "oooh" and "ah," too. I'm determined to persuade him to read Peace Like a River ASAP, but he keeps reminding me that he's reading a good book about Stonewall Jackson (by George Grant). I love Stonewall Jackson as much as the next guy, but please, tell my husband I'm right. I can't keep my mouth shut about Leif Enger's story much longer, and I gotta know Johnny's opinions!

Anyway, I might share more thoughts when I'm done w/The Road to Cana, but if you're curious, go ahead and read both "Jesus books." They're absolutely beautiful.

And if you're wondering, yes, I did read one of Anne Rice's vampire books: Vittorio the Vampire. It's not my preferred genre, but that book was great; it even had a quote by St. Augustine and a few redemptive elements. I liked the film Interview with a Vampire, too. So there.

What are y'all reading now that Leif Enger is out of your life (or is he)?

:: peace like a river - movie? ::

2008-05-22T12:25:00.005-05:00

Well, it seems that Peace Like a River will be made into a movie in 2009 or so. I'm not sure how I feel about this. I'm nervous.

I've seen some good book-adaptation films; I was recently very pleased with The Kite Runner, for example. But I think we all agree that the Peace Like a River movie better honor the book, to the highest degree. Right? If this film is done well, I'd love to see it on the big screen.

The only cast member listed is Billy Bob Thornton. Interesting.... Who do you think he will play? Which actors should portray the other characters??

:: the end [major spoilers] ::

2008-05-21T16:55:00.010-05:00

[after I finished yet another espresso w/cinnamon this morning. However, as I typed this entry, I sipped rooibos caramel tea.]

I don't have the brain power to write an eloquent summation of Peace Like a River's grandeur. Not today. In order to do that, I'll need to read it again during a better health phase of my life. And believe me, I will read this novel again. It's one of those books where I set it down, and felt like I said goodbye to real, lifelong friends. Those friends being Reuben, Swede, and Davy. Yes, even Davy who I didn't understand one lick. But I want to know, did Davy believe Reuben's account of Heaven? Jeremiah's transformation and bliss? Did Davy ever see his sister again? Things like that.

Before I try in vain to praise the last two beautiful chapters of Peace Like a River, let me tell you in brief what I loved from pages 205 'til the end:

-Reuben seeing Davy on a horse, and sneaking out to meet him. I loved that reunion of the two brothers. It gave me assurance that though Davy was complicated, he loved his family. A lot.
-How Jeremiah prayed/argued/wrestled with God over Andreeson, and how Roxanna believed that supernatural scene. And, how God showed Jeremiah Who's boss, and Jeremiah eventually complied, torn shirt and all.
[I'll say here that I never, ever liked Jape Waltzer. He gave me the creeps, and I squirmed every time he showed up on a page. I felt sorry for Sara, too. And I wanted to smack Davy upside the head for trusting Jape at all.]
-The courting of Jeremiah and Roxanna. Jeremiah moved out to the Airstream ~ what integrity. That, my friends, is a real man. Thank God, those two got married! The romantic in me sighed with relief.
-This interchange between Jeremiah and Reuben (in reference to Andreeson):

"'Love your enemies,' Dad said. 'Pray for those who persecute you.'
He would pick those verses.
'Rats, huh?' he said."
[page 246]

-Reuben's sudden concern for Andreeson, realizing that evil Jape would kill him.
-The entire repentant prayer of Reuben Land on pages 285-286. Like this excerpt:

"....weeping seems to accompany repentance most times. No wonder. Could you reach deep in yourself to locate that organ containing delusions about your general size in the world - could you lay hold of this and dredge it from your chest and look it over in daylight - well, it's no wonder people would rather not."

-These quotes, too:

"One thing I wasn't waiting for was a miracle.

I don't like to admit it. Shouldn't that be the last thing you release: the hope that the Lord God, touched in His heart by your particular impasse among all others, will reach down and do that work none else can accomplish - straighten the twist, clear the oozing sore, open the lungs? Who knew better than I that such holy stuff occurs? Who had more reason to hope?"
[page 292]

"Listening to Dad's guitar, halting yet lovely in the search for phrasing, I thought: Fair is whatever God wants to do."
[page 294. This particular quote speaks to me loudly.]

And then, the shootings. Breathless, I thought, "Jape! Of course. Crap."

Early on in the book, I thought Jeremiah might eventually die, though every time that idea came up, I dismissed it quickly, not wanting to believe. One such time was that first miracle: Jeremiah walking on air, praying for Reuben. Or like Andrea said, when Jeremiah told Reuben he'd take his place if he could (I think all great Dads think this way). I did not want Jeremiah to die one bit. But here's the thing about Christians & death.... Death is always grueling - it is a vicious ripping - but there is sweetness to be found.

The most recent familial death I've dealt with is my grandfather - Papaw. When I first heard the news, my heart sank like a rock to the pit of my soul. He was my hero. But now, I often picture him healthy, strong, and near Jesus' side - where Papaw always wanted to be. Sometimes it feels as if I get a real glimpse of some sort, or I can feel my grandfather's joy, and then I catch myself smiling.

I'm not sure who else has been ambitious enough to try and describe eternity - "the next country" - but in my opinion, Leif Enger nailed it, as much as humanly possible.

"At that moment I had no notion of identity. Nor of burden. I laughed in place of language. The meadow hummed as though thick with the nests of waking creatures, and the grasses were canyon colored, lifting their heads as I passed. Moving up from the river the humming began to swell - it was magnetic, a sound uncurling into song and light and even a scent, which was like earth, and I must've then entered the region of nests, for up scattered finches and cheeky longspurs and every sort of bunting and bobolink and piebald tanager."
[page 300. I love how this man writes.]

"Here in the orchard I had a glimmer of origin: Adam, I thought. Only the bare word. It suggested nothing. It was but a pair of syllables that seemed to belong to me."
[page 301]

And by the way, I loved the personification of nature in that next country. Its rhythm and humming. Don't you sometimes see it hinted in swaying trees on the prettiest days? I do.

I loved Jeremiah running up to Reuben - Jeremiah's incandescent face laughing, noting his son's muscular, grown body. I loved how they ran together, not tiring.

"We were like two friends, and I saw that he was proud of me, that he knew me better than he'd ever thought to and was not dismayed by the knowledge; and even as I wondered at his ageless face, so clear and at home, his eyes owned up to some small regret, for he knew a thing I didn't."
[page 303]

"'Take care of Swede,' Dad said....
'Work for Roxanna,' Dad told me....
'Tell Davy,' Dad said."
[page 304. Those lines nearly choke me up every time.]

And did you notice, Reuben wanted to go with his Dad to that beautiful city, not back to the earthly country? But a final, incredulous miracle had occurred. Though Jeremiah's shot wounds should not have killed him, they did. Though Reuben's bullet-shredded lungs should have ended his life, they did not. I believe God granted another prayer of his saint Jeremiah - to trade his life for his son's. And with Reuben's life restored, so were his lungs. Glory be.

One more thing about "the next country." To me, it was a direct contrast to the skin bag man's country. In that land of fright, all is stark, dry, and gray. Reuben's breath was stolen from him. But in "the next country," all is lush, verdant, and creation sings. There, Rube's breath is restored, his lungs healed.

And, the second time Reuben unwillingly visits the skin bag man's country [page 237], Jape is likened to that devilish breath-stealing creature. I do believe Jape is the exact opposite of Jeremiah Land. Jape has no faith, and wants to do everything on his own terms (maybe his main appeal to Davy). Nor does he have Davy's best interests in mind. He even tries to kill Reuben. Jeremiah, of course, spills over with radiant faith and the best of intentions - true love - for each of his children. He does the Lord's bidding. He trades his life for Reuben's. These comparisons just came to me today - did y'all see them as well?

So no, I did not want Jeremiah Land to die. I didn't want Roxanna to be a widow. But I loved how she remained part of the family; very much the childrens' mother. I loved Swede's [expected] literary success. And I loved how Reuben and Sara ended up husband & wife, w/children. I did not see that coming, but again, my romantic side swelled with happiness. Of course they belong together.

Yet after all that, Davy still remained distant; both physically and in regards to faith. This bothered me more than Jeremiah's death in a way. We know where Jeremiah runs and how right it is (though bittersweet). But where is Davy running? Did he ever finally believe and relinquish control?

We'll never know, I suppose. But like Reuben said:

"Belief is a hard thing to gauge where Davy is concerned."
[page 310]

"Is there a single person on whom I can press belief?
No sir.
All I can do is say, Here's how it went. Here's what I saw.
I've been there and am going back.
Make of it what you will."
[the end]

:: confession, and a change ::

2008-05-20T11:18:00.008-05:00

[a photo repeat from my other blog, in a post about reading]

I must be honest with y'all ~ during my stomach virus, I finished Peace Like a River. And oh, how I loved it! In fact, I loved the last two chapters so much that I read them 2-3 times. I've never read anything quite like this book. I have a hunch that each of you finished Peace Like a River, too. Am I correct?

I ask because I cannot finish this book discussion in the manner I've been posting all along. My health issues are so odd. I'll feel pretty good for a few days, then I'll sleep horribly or whatever and feel like utter crap all over. The book discussion has been a fun experiment, but it's actually been very hard for me to keep up with. And, I feel like the discussion fizzled out for the most part. These things happen; I do understand.

So, if y'all have finished the book, I'd say let's talk about the ending, and anything leading up to it that you found significant. What do you say?

I'm also pondering what exactly to do with books for calvin. I'm keeping this blog for sure, but it's about to change into a reading & writing blog of sorts.... All things literary, from an aspiring writer's perspective. I will not outright copy Robin's lovely blog - The Wonderful Pen - but I'm thinking I will share:

-quotes from books I'm reading,
-some thoughts,
-author interviews,
-writing advice quotes,
-poems,
-book reviews,
-giveaways,
-reading/writing photos,
-local bookstore adventures,
-etc.

I'll leave the comments open ~ if any of you love all things bookish as much as I do, I'd love to read your thoughts!

Thank you for taking part in the discussion so far, and your patience with me. Who knows, maybe when my health is consistently stronger, we can try another discussion. We shall see.

:: a winner! ::

2008-05-17T10:41:00.006-05:00

I pulled three names out of a blue ceramic bowl this morning, and here is the winner for my lil' giveaway:

-Laura Leigh Dobson!
[Home to Holly Springs, a Netflix 1-month-free trial card, a few tea bags, a simply photo postcard, and a set of Lotta Jansdotter sticky notes]

Two runners-up:

-Crystal,
-and Megan.
[a Netflix trial card, a few tea bags, and a simply photo postcard]

[photo by Jen Causey, from her simply photo Etsy site]

Congratulations, y'all! And thanks to everyone for playing along. Laura, Crystal, and Megan ~ please e-mail me your addresses:

jennisimmons at gmail dot com

FYI, I have one more blog entry for pages 180-222, then I'm moving on to other pages. I hope to read your comments!

:: leif enger audio ::

2008-05-14T21:23:00.006-05:00

For your listening pleasure:

Enger mostly discusses his new novel - So Brave, Young, and Handsome - which I'm dying to read soon.

Happy listening.

:: peace like a river/pages 180-222 - picnic ::

2008-05-14T18:35:00.002-05:00

The picnic scene was also vivid in my imagination, and very magical. Yet another reason to love Roxanna - she knew exactly where to have a bountiful picnic in the dead of a North Dakota winter, yet stay warm. That, and her great uncle knew Butch Cassidy (short of quoting the whole story, I had to at least mention it).

Really, though, I adored the writing on pages 198-199:

"....and so we climbed, topping the hill at last to look down at what seemed a garden of fire.

Fire, and rising steam, and specks of light - the specks pooling and runneling then blinking out to be replaced by others. The fire came from a split in the earth that had opened and zigzagged away through the hills. .... No, I didn't think it was the genuine Hell; it was way too pretty. .... No doubt Voltaire had a moment or two of deep regret before departing into that country - I know I was nervous - but down we went, descending the hillside lit by orange snow.... 'Roxanna,' Dad said, it's a miraculous place. I never saw better.' He was sitting beside her. The firelight had restored his face to healthy color and she, all Frenchbraided, scarf unslung, resembled an opportunity missed by Rembrandt."

And then, that pesky Andreeson showed up, in the midst of all that magic. Talk about a downer. However, it was quite the interesting exchange between he and Jeremiah. And I loved how Roxanna immediately, and silently, took sides with Davy, though she'd never met him. I also loved when Reuben described M. Andreeson as "the king of pukes." [page 204]

But Reuben asked the same questions that formed in my mind: if Andreeson was so close to Davy in the Badlands, why was the putrid fed so desperate for Jeremiah's supernatural help? "Spookism," as the kids called it. Is Andreeson admitting defeat thus far? And why didn't he arrest the Land family? It makes me think he's not all bad, as much as we might like to think. Everyone has to do their job, after all, and Davy did commit murder.

Oh. To backtrack a little.... That blizzard - the one that kept the Land family happily stuck at Roxanna's house - do you think that was one of Jeremiah's miracles? I know that Reuben said it was "the work of providence," [page 187], and I know that early on we distinguished a miracle from an every day, faithful, beautiful act of God, but that blizzard did seem miraculous to me. It hid the Land family from the police's eyes, Roxanna owned a barn big enough to hide the Airstream, she kindly provided rooms & meals for the weary travelers, and she was so much like a Mom to the kids it wasn't even funny. It seemed to me that God hid this family and favored Jeremiah once again. So, miracle, or just another cycle of weather by God's design?

:: peace like a river/pages 180-222 - devil ::

2008-05-14T16:15:00.003-05:00

["Man on a Swing" by Francisco Goya, courtesy of The Frick Collection]

I've said before that I was a minor asthmatic as a child, and somewhat in my 20's. Reuben is a pretty severe asthmatic, but even so, when he describes what it feels like not to breathe, my lungs hurt with remembrance.

"I dreamed a devilish little man came and stole my breath. He stepped through the door with a skin bag strung limp over his shoulder and with dispassionate efficiency crouched back and slugged me in the stomach. Such an incredulous exhale! And so complete; not a wisp of air remained. .... The little man crouched again and looked at me closely. He was a pale one, a horror. Years later I would describe him to Swede and she would point him out to me, or his close cousin, in a book containing the works of Francisco Goya."
[page 183]

To me, that was some of the most vivid imagery in the whole book. And evil imagery, I might add. I know Reuben dreamt it, but with his Dad's supernatural abilities and all, I stopped to wonder if Reuben actually caught a glimpse of an evil spirit. Especially since he later pointed out the devilish little man's cousin in a Goya lineup. But describing how no more breath could be found in his lungs; how Jeremiah prayed for him bedside, Roxanna whacked, and Swede cried - it sounded like a very dire situation.

I don't recall Reuben ever falling into depression after his asthma until then. The next day, he wakened to utter fatigue, shallow breath, and Roxanna & his family outside in the gleaming, white snow. He felt abandoned. His thoughts seemed very dark:

"I crawled back in bed under the weight of the sun and joy and adventure happening outdoors, and I thought dangerous things to myself. Back to mind came every hurt I'd endured for my defect, every awaited thing I'd missed. It seemed to me such wrongs were legion in my short life. It seemed that I'd been left alone here by the callousness of my family; that should the man with the skin bag return I might not fight so hard next time; that this house was so empty even God was not inside it. He was out there with the others, having fun."
[page 185]

But after such a horrific dream and serious asthma attack, I can understand his dark thoughts. Whether you struggle with a long-term illness as a child or in adulthood, I do think there comes a time (even to the most saintly) when you feel as if God has abandoned you. You know better, you remember Scripture saying otherwise, yet try as you might, it feels like God isn't listening anymore. Like He skipped town. As y'all know, I'm dealing with several health issues which I do believe God is healing, but very slowly. I'm ashamed to admit that I've frowned often, complained, and wondered where in the heck God was (when He was right there).

And then I realized, I relate the most to Reuben in this book. I'm not exactly sure why; he's a boy, after all. One thing I've concluded is that I watch everyone like he does; quite intently. But I do relate to this young man, and I'm wondering, do y'all relate to a particular character? Why?

:: peace like a river/pages 180-222 - beauty ::

2008-05-14T14:56:00.002-05:00

[my drink of the week is espresso w/cinnamon]

As I read these pages, I discovered beauty. Mainly in Roxanna, who (whom?) I adored right along with Reuben and Swede. I'm not sure where to begin with Roxanna ~ her dry sense of humor, the way she nursed goats with a baby bottle, her instant rapport with Swede, her warm hospitality, her great uncle's cinnamon roll recipe (that icing!), the way she whacked Reuben's asthmatic back - like she was already part of the family somehow. She was a hardworking, kind, and independent woman.

But I thought Reuben's perceptions of Roxanna were fascinating. First, he stated, "I'm ashamed to recall thinking it was too bad Roxanna Cawley was not lovely." [pages 182-183] However, after spending some time in her house and feeling quite at home, Reuben witnessed this beautiful passage (and yes, I'm gonna type out every word):

"'Children,' Roxanna replied, turning to us. Though her eyes glittered she was not crying; in fact she pulled a smile from somewhere. Her hair was roped back in a French braid from which it was very winningly coming loose, and she held before her a picnic basket with a clasped lid. For heartening sights nothing beats a well-packed picnic basket. One so full it creaks. One carried by a lady you would walk on tacks for. Does all this make her sound beautiful to you? Because she was - oh, yes. Though she hadn't seemed so to me a week before, when she turned and faced us I was confused at her beauty and could only scratch and look down at my shoetops, as the dumbfounded have done through the centuries. Swede was wordless too, though later in an epic fervor she would render into verse Roxanna's moment of transfiguration. I like the phrase, which hasn't been thrown around that much since the High Renaissance, but truly I suppose that moment had been gaining on us, secretly, like a new piece of music played while you sleep. One day you hear it - a strange song, yet one you know by heart."
[page 196]

All of this did make Roxanna sound beautiful to me, but honestly, I already thought she was lovely. There was just something about her, and Jeremiah's early opinion of her - how at ease he sat at her table that first night, leaning back in his chair, tired & pleased. Even Rube observed:

"To Dad - so long without his wife - the particular formula of a meal, woman, and conversation must have seemed like a favorite hymn remembered."
[page 182]

The romantic in me burst out. I wanted nothing more than for this crew to end up as a real family. It was more than obvious that Swede & Reuben had fallen head over heels in love with Roxanna, but I kept trying to figure out, had Jeremiah? In my opinion, he respected her immensely. And coming from him, I knew for sure she was a great woman. But as for romance, Jeremiah seemed guarded. My inner-romantic kept hoping that love would bloom between this man and woman.

To tie this all up, I want to know - have you met people like Roxanna? Ones that society would deem homely, yet to you, and to many, they are Greek gods/goddesses? My Mom always told me it's more important to be prettier on the inside, and as cliche as that still sounds, I really believe it is true (thanks, Mom). Every time I conjure Roxanna's character, I do see a gorgeous woman; one I'd prefer over a runway model any day.

Also, help me out here.... I should know more about the play Cyrano de Bergerac than I do (please don't tell my high school English teacher) - but I believe Leif Enger's Roxanna is a twist on the classic drama of talented poet & big-nosed Cyrano and the beautiful woman he loved, Roxanne. Your opinions?

:: giveaway ::

2008-05-13T13:47:00.005-05:00

I'm finally feeling better, thank the good Lord! Stomach viruses might be more evil than mean ole Valdez. I'm working on a few Peace Like a River posts ~~today (and/or tomorrow)~~ for tomorrow, but in the meantime, how about a giveaway contest?

I love all kinds of novels, and an author I do enjoy is Jan Karon. She writes the most charming, lovely, comforting stories. I read the entire Mitford series, and when it ended, I was bummed. So, I was thrilled to hear about the Father Tim novels. I read Home to Holly Springs and I believe it is one of Karon's best books; maybe the best she's ever written.

It's a long story, but I have an extra hardback copy of Home to Holly Springs. Basically, instead of returning it to Amazon, I let it sit in our front hall closet since Christmas. I thought one of you might love to read this book. ~~If so, please leave a comment here and~~ I'll do a drawing on Saturday, 5/17. I'll throw in a few tea bags, too (I usually do). And a 1-free-month trial card from Netflix (unless you already belong). Actually, I have two extra Netflix trial cards, so I'll stick those + tea bags in the mail to the two runners-up, OK?

It's just my little way of thanking y'all for hanging in here, w/my weakened health and slow (but avid) reading & blogging. Good luck!

:: sick ::

2008-05-07T13:33:00.002-05:00

My husband thought he had food poisoning, but when I started to have the same symptoms, we figured out it was a stomach virus or bug. I'm recovering, but bedridden; exhausted and weak. I know this blog's pace is too slow for some of you, but I'm afraid it will be slow this week as well. I did read pages 180-222, so as soon as I'm a bit stronger, I'll post away....

:: peace like a river/pages 129-179 - airstream ::

2008-05-03T18:19:00.009-05:00

1. I forgot to ask one question while the Land family were still at August & Birdie's house. Why did Jeremiah fall silent upon hearing about his childhood bedroom from Reuben? [page 148] I've been thinking about that. It made me wonder if Jeremiah's childhood was not idyllic. Did that cross your mind?

2. I laughed as I pictured Swede astride her saddle, on a sawhorse, in the Airstream trailer's kitchen; typing out their journey in dramatic Western prose. That Swede is a hoot! Jeremiah really is a saint to allow her to bring along a saddle, a sawhorse, and a typewriter. My Dad is a great man, but in answer to Reuben's question on page 149, no, I don't think my father would have gone along with such a plan.

3. I found the following quote to be very powerful, as Reuben realized they really were alone, on the run from Andreeson and the North Dakota cops:

"And so still were these men, and so unmoved in their faces, and so flatout many were they, dispersed like hunters across a field, that I knew they were indeed looking for us, and for Davy through us. At once I took a fierce chill. A sob rippled up my throat and I couldn't do a thing about it. It sure is one thing to say you're at war with this whole world and stick your chest out believing it, but when the world shows up with its crushing numbers and its predatory knowledge, it is another thing completely. I shut my eyes and rocked."
[page 165-166]

Reuben sure does feel things very deeply, doesn't he?

4. I've been missing a good miracle. However, as the Land family were on the run from all those cops at each gas station, even I chose not to see the miracle. I kept thinking, "Wow. How are all those cops missing a green Plymouth wagon and a 20-foot Airstream trailer whizzing by?" Then, of course, when Reuben explained,

"They didn't get us, though; not one of them even saw us, though we saw them, as I've described; we tiptoed through that town like a fat boy through a wolf pack. Make of it what you will."
[page 167]

I said aloud, "OH. Of course." I was also intrigued that God allowed this particular miracle; as if He wanted Jeremiah to find his son. You know? Swede's reaction to witnessing her first Jeremiah-miracle was interesting, too. She dramatically likened her Dad to Moses and other Old Testament prophets, which is somewhat accurate, in my opinion. But then she missed the healing of her saddle's leather, all that time. Reuben had to point out that miracle to her, though she'd used her saddle often since Jeremiah made it like new. Which brings me to another great quote:

"It's been this part folks disbelieve - not that the saddle was made whole but that Swede had gone all this time without seeing it. Odd on the face of it, I know - I know. But we're fearful people, the best of us. We see a newborn moth unwrapping itself and announce, Look, children, a miracle! But let an irreversible wound be knit back to seamlessness? We won't even see it, though we look at it every day."
[pages 173-174]

That's another profound statement about miracles. I mean, if you really think about it, if you saw an actual miracle, it would scare the pants off you, right? That's how it would be for me; at least instill the true fear of God within my soul. I'm so used to the everyday rhythm of things - living after the Fall - that if some event contradicted the earth, I might lose my breath, or like Swede w/the saddle, miss it entirely.

I wonder what made her recognize that Jeremiah shielded their entourage from the policemen's eyes, though? That she was so enthralled with her part in escaping Andreeson (i.e. maple syrup)? She loved the drama of outrunning the police, but realized full well they shouldn't have been able to?

5. One last thing: I thought Reuben's and Swede's conversation about the Old Testament prophets was hilarious. That's all.

What did y'all find significant within these pages?

:: peace like a river/pages 129-179 - trauma ::

2008-05-02T19:26:00.004-05:00

On page 140, Reuben & Swede eavesdropped on their Dad, August, and Birdie. Rube seemed surprised at their concern on his behalf, since he alone witnessed his older brother's shootings:

"It was hard talk to decipher. What was supposed to happen to you if you were present at a tragedy? Was there some sort of damage? I wasn't sure. The fact is, beyond the occasional scary dream, my chief response to the shootings was a self-centered misery that Davy'd had to go away. I just missed my brother."

I physically ached for little Reuben there. His narration often sounds more mature, but he is only 11-years-old. He witnessed his brother - one of his heroes - kill two boys, his family's only enemies. That is a very traumatic situation for any person, but especially for a child. I believe Reuben thinks he is fine, but I know for certain that many children repress their reactions to trauma. I think this is true for Reuben due to his other reaction while eavesdropping:

"'Jeremiah,' August said, 'was it like the newspaper said? The way Davy shot those boys?'

Dad said, 'Yes, pretty much as it said. He shot them down. Yes.'

At these words a thing happened I can't explain - think of some small furry animal, say a vole, going right up your spine with its cold little claws. It shook me; Swede put both arms around me or I'd have gone back to bed."
[page 139]

I do not doubt that Reuben loves and admires Davy, but all the more reason that I believe Rube was traumatized by watching Davy shoot Basca and Finch dead. And know that he lured both boys to the house to do so.

Your opinions?

:: peace like a river/pages 129-179 - davy ::

2008-05-02T14:26:00.006-05:00

[today, I'm drinking a yerba mate/Sencha green/ginseng/echinacea tea blend. Really tasty & healthy.]

When Swede asked sweet Birdie if Davy missed his family, Birdie replied, "Like sunshine .... He said it's like having no sun in the sky, Swede - he missed you that much." [page 136] I'm with Reuben - Davy doesn't strike me as "generally lyrical." I think Birdie made that up knowing it would comfort Swede's heart. But I do think Davy missed his family, don't you? At least it pains my heart to hope that he missed his family. A part of me wonders if he's not really lonely for them, though - like the kids' Mom, since I think Davy might take after Mrs. Land. Do y'all think Davy pined for his family at all?

I thought it was odd that Davy laughed in his sleep twice, while resting upstairs in August and Birdie's house. I tried to figure out why he laughed - what was he dreaming about? Lurvy jumping off the roof into the snow (from Reuben's dream)? I'm kind of kidding, but I am truly curious to know why Davy laughed.

Also, I think August & Birdie are the dearest of people. I can see why they remained Jeremiah's lifelong friends. In fact, they are a real extension to the Land family. They seem just as conflicted about Davy as do Jeremiah, Reuben, and Swede. August and Birdie took Davy in, fed him, and gave him shelter. They begged him to see a dentist and even to return home and turn himself in. I was so sad to read that Birdie's plea "....brought a great smile to Davy's face, and in that smile the Shultzes saw the truth, that turning himself in would be the very last thing Davy would do in his life, however long it lasted." [page 140] Yes, that made me very sad - for Davy's future as well as the outcome of this story. I can't see it ending very well at this point.

I felt the emotional conflict when August and Birdie gave him that old car with food in the trunk. I thought, "What a nice thing to do!" Then, "Wait - that's against the law! Aiding a fugitive and all." And, they lied to the mean ole Fed, Andreeson. I honestly believe that these controversial acts of kindness even gave righteous Jeremiah great relief. He is such an upstanding man, but parents love their children immensely. I wish Davy had thought more about the shootings - what the aftermath would do to his family. I tend to think he's OK with being alone, on the run, and his future unsure. But I don't think he considered his family's turmoil. On one hand, I know he was trying to protect them, but on the other, I think he premeditated quite selfishly.

Oh, Davy.

P.S. - {I have 1-2 more posts for pages 129-179, but then I'm moving on to pages 180-222. However, I'm sensing y'all might have lost interest in this discussion. I'm not upset or anything. I know that each of you are very busy, and I might not be leading this discussion very well. Please let me know if you plan to keep discussing, or if this blog just isn't for you. Thanks for all your comments so far!}

:: peace like a river/pages 129-179 - ominous ::

2008-04-29T15:10:00.007-05:00

Reuben asked my first questions for today. After realizing that the tramp outside the post office was old Mr. Finch, Reuben witnessed:

"....he looked dead, is what I'm telling you. Like a man so trampled of spirit he'd given over the strength of limbs. I watched his face and his futile, suety hands, and for the first time a question nipped at me: Was it possible that real loss had occurred at the death of Israel Finch? That real grief had been felt?"
[page 132]

His questions caught me by surprise. I feel sympathy for the Land family, even Davy, but I don't stop to think much about the Basca or Finch families. Sure, they do not seem to be the greatest of people, but after reading that quote, I wondered, why is old Mr. Finch such a drunk? What happened in his early life? Within his family? Was there great loss when Israel died?

I noticed something else. Before Reuben identified the bum as old Mr. Finch, he said, "I think he's praying." I thought, my goodness, he could be praying. I'm sure he was intoxicated, but he could have uttered a drunkard's prayer. What do y'all think?

As for the ominous, what about those two dead crows in the road en route to North Dakota? The first one:

"It was a much more grievous sight than you'd think, a dead crow lying in the road out in the heart of noplace, and just before we reached it the wind brought up that wing again so it looked like a thing asking mercy."
[page 133]

Jeremiah was surprised. In all the many years he spent in North Dakota, he'd never seen a dead crow on the road. He said, "They're awfully smart birds .... They get out of the way."

I felt chills when I read that, and also after they saw another dead crow on the road, "cruelly pasted and lying over at the edge."
[page 134]

One last thing that was ominous to me: Jeremiah remained too skinny from pneumonia. I guess I thought since his health had improved - he was up and around, anyway - he had gained some of his weight back. I think Reuben assumed this, too. It didn't sit well with me that Jeremiah looked emaciated not only to Reuben, but also to August.

So, am I paranoid, or did you find these things ominous, too?

:: peace like a river/pages 129-179 - faith ::

2008-04-28T14:00:00.002-05:00

[I was drinking yerba mate, a tea from South America. I was also burning piñon incense due to the Land family's yearning for "high desert" in the Southwest (page 112).]

On pages 129-130, Reuben mentions that the day after Christmas, Jeremiah started preparing to leave "on faith alone." At that point, they had not received the funny postcard from August & Birdie, nor heard anything from Davy. And yet, they prepared to pack up and leave. I noticed that faith was clearly evident on pages 130-131, too:

"Faith brought this about. Faith, as Dad saw it, had delivered unto us the Airstream trailer, and faith would direct our travels."

"I have the substance of things hoped for. I have the anticipation of things unseen," said Jeremiah to Dr. Nokes. I think Swede got some of her cheekiness from her Dad, don't you?

"How could we not have faith? For the foundation had been laid in prayer and sorrow. Since that fearful night, Dad had responded with the almost impossible work of belief. He had burned with repentance as though his own hand had fired the gun. He had laid up prayer as if with a trowel. You know this is true, and if you don't it is I the witness who am to blame."

That last quote is such beautiful writing, and it seems important to me. I've been wondering if Jeremiah felt responsible for not trying to stop Davy from shooting the boys. As I see it, Jeremiah had to restrain Swede away from gunfire for her safety. But I don't recall him shouting or saying anything to Davy. Perhaps he was too stunned, like Reuben.

I also believe that Jeremiah is very conflicted. He loves his son so much I can almost feel it, but on page 139 he did admit, "He [Davy] shouldn't have .... It's true he shouldn't have. That jury would've had to convict him."

So, what are your thoughts on the faith-passages - mine and others in the book? I loved how Jeremiah likened their Airstream road trip to the Israelites' journey in the desert, and Reuben's observations on that comparison. Reuben is funny in his own way, isn't he? To me, Rube and Swede (as a pair) take after their Dad a lot. Maybe Davy inherited more character traits from their Mom. I might be wrong, but the thought just came to me.

Do you think Jeremiah should feel so responsible for the shootings? Or does he have undue guilt? I mean, Davy is near grown, making his own decisions.

:: a new leif enger book! ::

2008-04-25T11:20:00.004-05:00

While we're all geeked up about Peace Like a River, I thought I'd geek us up further.... A new Leif Enger book released this week ~ So Brave, Young, and Handsome. I quickly added it to my wish list. I can't wait!

:: hello? ::

2008-04-23T19:30:00.002-05:00

I finished reading pages 129-179 this evening, but I don't want to move forward quite yet. I only heard from Megan regarding pages 70-128. Does anyone else plan to share their thoughts this week? Or contribute their suggestions for this blog, along with Megan (see the comments here)?

I'll wait to write another post until I hear back from y'all. I hope everyone is just busy reading!

:: peace like a river/pages 70-128 ::

2008-04-20T19:30:00.005-05:00

[photo by Robin. She was drinking hot chocolate and eating a fruit & nut power bagel, both from Einstein Bros.]

I thought it was interesting, and surprising, that Reuben agreed with one premise from that hackneyed (as Swede described it) article from the Minneapolis Star:

"Tommy Basca was an idiot, but he wasn't purebred evil. You could see looking at him that he might be somebody's Bubby. He tagged after Israel Finch because Israel Finch liked having a disciple and no one else was witless enough to want the job."
[page 71]

Maybe so, but Basca receives no pardon from me. He was still some kind of evil, even if he veered toward the dumb side. After all, said Reuben, "Tommy was an accomplice the night of her [Swede's] horrible ride. He grinned during it." [page 71]

I scoffed at how quickly the public opinion of Davy changed by one poorly-written newspaper article. The written word does hold a lot of power - for better or for worse - and readers are easily swayed if they aren't thinking sharp. However, I think most media outlets (in this story and in our society) are fickle, too. Most popular news sources today don't seem so interested in the truth as they do a sensational story. And as Rube said, "Do you think poor Mrs. Basca could've guessed at the power of tragedy?" [page 71] Probably not, but tragedy holds power, too. Though I think the Star's portrayal of Basca and Finch was ridiculous, maybe they were right to some degree? I mean, most of us in this book discussion think Davy committed murder, even if we understand his motivation somewhat.

Well, I thought I understood until we read about the trial, how Davy lured both boys back to his house, by ruining Israel Finch's car. I still believe Davy was tired of his family's torment, and rightly so, but luring the boys like that sounds even more like murder.

Even though I'm jumping ahead here, I'll say that the trial was most interesting, too. Davy did not seem at all concerned or even scared about his situation - he made faces at Reuben, trying to crack him up! Typical brothers. And right before Rube's verbal slip-ups (which were funny to me and very much like an 11-year-old), Davy smiled:

"And do you know, when Davy looked back, something was different. Something in the look itself - it was untethered somehow, loosed from Elvis and the jury and judge. He smiled at me from some planetary distance."
[page 91]

Folks, Davy knew good and well what he was getting into when he shot those boys. I really don't think he had any remorse. Do you?

.... There was another mention of "public inconstancy" on page 96, after Davy escaped from jail by pony (much to Swede's delight):

"Having 'up and disappeared,' Davy'd clearly reacquired the allure that had evaporated so easily when people heard about Bubby. Now he was back to 'bold outlaw,' and while I liked the change I'd also learned a bit by now about public inconstancy."

Do y'all think the media is as fickle as I do - in the story and in our lives?

About Davy escaping - I didn't know how he would do it, but I knew he would. Did you? I almost wondered if he, too, had a few miracles up his sleeve. But nope, he just duped the guards. Davy might be odd and vengeful, but he is a smart one, in some sense. I think all three children are remarkable in their own ways, in fact.

Now, let's go back several pages. I thought the whole pilgrim hat scenario was pretty funny, starting with these sentences:

"You can imagine what a treat these [gingerbread turkeys] were, especially juxtaposed against our general feelings toward the cafeteria. Even as we sat, prying lids off milk bottles, we could hear the persecuted cooks banging around back in the kitchen, grandmas barking at each other, preparing the daily grotesque."
[page 75]

"Daily grotesque" is hilarious! At least my school's cafeteria fit that bill. And then, Holgren wearing one of those paper pilgrim hats was even funnier, and sad. But who in the heck wrote "SHOOT ME!" on his hat, do you think?

I somewhat understood Reuben's embarrassment of his Dad's career. My Dad was principal of my high school. I was never, ever embarrassed by him - I was actually quite proud of his position and the way he did his job. But my fellow classmates were not always kind. If my Dad made a decision we didn't like, I could easily let it go because he was my Dad and I love him so. But kids can be cruel. I grew weary of my friends poking fun at their principal as if I'd just understand. So, I knew what Rube meant by:

"And this bothered me, too: Dad would come into a room, pushing his broom, and always some dumb kid would turn to me and smirk. Janitor's kid. Mop jockey. Cleaned up any good puke lately? I'm sorry if you thought better of me, but the fact is I spent whole hours imagining alarming humiliations for those kids - big dumb kids, always, with effortless all-star lungs."
[pages 77-78]

But I think it's important to note that Reuben was not merely embarrassed by his Dad's job. It's more that he thought Jeremiah deserved better than being a janitor; he was "beloved by God", after all. "To see him therefore in janitor clothes seemed to me the result of a strange and discomforting arithmetic." [page 77]

If Reuben thought he was confused by those thoughts, then how about when he witnessed his Dad heal Holgren's complexion with a strange, quick, slap on his face? I ask you - why do you think Jeremiah healed Holgren of all people? I still can't figure it out, but it seems that miracle had more of a punishment effect on Holgren. I don't think he liked being healed by his humble enemy one bit. Not at all.

And poor Reuben! My heart physically ached when he wouldn't go home with his Dad:

"But I shook my head. I just couldn't go with him. Nor could I tell him it wasn't his public mistreatment that stole my breath and blocked my tongue; it was something too mean to explain. It was the fact that Chester the Fester, the worst man I'd ever seen, even worse in his way than Israel Finch, got a whole new face to look out of and didn't even know to be grateful; while I, my father's son, had to be still and resolute and breathe steam to stay alive."
[page 80]

Wait - do y'all think Holgren was worse than Finch? I don't know about that. But I just wanted to hug Reuben. I don't think Jeremiah controls which miracles he performs. This one seemed to flow from his shocked emotions, but I don't think he would have chosen to heal Holgren. That seemed very clearly of God, though very mysterious; very perplexing. And I do wonder - why hasn't he healed Reuben yet? I think we'd all wonder the same thing, 11 years old or not.

Now, I know some of you find it hard to believe that Swede can write poetry like she does, and that's OK - I'm enjoying everyone's opinions as we read. But to defend Swede a little - she sure is charming - even Reuben notices her mature behavior and intellect. For instance, when he and Swede were sleeping in the DeCuellar's study, and Swede wanted to take knives and break Davy out of jail, Reuben talked her out of it. And he said, "It was one of those rare moments when I actually felt older than Swede." [page 87] I think this means that Swede often behaved older than her years.

Also, didn't Mr. DeCuellar own some great books? C.S. Lewis and Graham Greene? Of course Swede selected a volume of poetry by Robert Louis Stevenson to read. When she and Reuben both got a chill from the following lines, that's when I knew for sure Davy would escape:

"Whenever the moon and stars are set,
Whenever the moon is high,
All night long in the dark and wet,
A man goes riding by."
[page 87]

But back to Swede - she giggled furiously when Sheriff Pym misspoke by saying "onus eye" instead of "evil eye." She understood vocabulary better than most adults. Or this paragraph:

"'It would be like forsaking all hope of his return,' Swede said. I know the sentence deserved an accompanying swoon, but this was how she got sometimes and by now you oughtn't to be surprised."
[page 113]

See, Swede's family is used to her ways, but we just don't know many 9-year-olds quite like her! She grew up to be a professor, too.

We see more of Swede's poetry on pages 100, 105, and 106. Though I still love her writing, my previous comparisons don't seem so clear cut as before. I jotted in my journal:

"-I still see Sunny Sundown as Jeremiah, and I don't like the idea of either hung.
-Davy does seem like Valdez to me - he got away and Swede still can't/doesn't want to kill him.
-Or am I wrong in my comparisons?
-Who are the Reddick boys? Sure seem like Finch and Basca. Perhaps things like good and evil aren't so clear cut for me in this story, either.
-'an unreasoning fear that Valdez was no invention. That he was real and coming toward us on solid earth.' [page 101] Yikes. Davy??
-Every Western is a love story?"

There were a few times that Jeremiah surprised me in these pages. His typical Christ-like behavior was evident when he was ill with pneumonia; he asked Reuben if that's what asthma felt like. He thought of his son's discomfort more than his own. Yet Jeremiah was very depressed over Davy's absence. Jeremiah is a great man, but he is human, after all. Or when Andreeson - the federal investigator - dropped by the house; Jeremiah doesn't seem like he plans to give Davy up to any authority. I believe he will protect his son at any cost, even a dangerous one. Do you agree?

I was also very impressed by Swede's and Reuben's care for their sick father. Swede showed that special maturity again by turning into quite a "mom." She rightly saw that Rube should use his hard-earned money for groceries. She even whipped up the Christmas meal, which, by the way, made me very happy - to see the Land family feast after a dark period of little food and Jeremiah's weakened health. And though Reuben hesitated to buy groceries at first, he did see Swede's point and became his family's hero. Speaking of the groceries, I think I know why Jeremiah was most happy to see the Hills Brothers coffee. I personally believe coffee is one of the best aromas in the world. I absolutely loved this description of the smell and comfort of coffee:

"Strangely it was the coffee Dad seemed most happy to see and which, brewed, caused our home to feel again like a place where we might live right-side-up. Dad hummed 'God Rest You Merry, Gentlemen,' as he measured grounds into the basket and lit the gas; the pot ticked as it heated; and as it perked a smell came forth like the sunlit hillsides of Mexico, a smell like morning camps described by Theodore Roosevelt in his days as a rancher in North Dakota. Then Dad sat at the kitchen table with a white ceramic cup all asteam and his King James before him ...."
[page 123]

There are two things I think might be important to this story, but I'm not sure. Did any of you see significance in Jeremiah's talk of "high desert" on page 112? Or Reuben's dream of Davy and Tin Lurvy on page 104? Of Davy leaping "wondrously high" and Lurvy saying, "Hey, kids, can I try that?"

To round out my thoughts, I think Andrea called it by saying Lurvy stood out to her. He might be easy to dismiss in some ways, but then in his will, he left an Airstream trailer to Jeremiah which will come in very handy as the Lands set out to find Davy, don't you think? It made Jeremiah laugh with joy, after all!

I jotted down a number of funny quotes, but to close here, I'll just share one:

"Nothing remained of the crib but its black upright timbers, which for frozen steadfastness seemed a jury of Puritans."
[page 117]

So, what did I miss this time? What did y'all notice?
Love?
Dislike?
Favorite quotes?

* - [I'll be reading pages 129-179 for the next discussion ....]

:: sunday! ::

2008-04-19T20:15:00.005-05:00

Hi there. I've written half of my thoughts on pages 70-128, but I'll finish up and post tomorrow - Sunday, 4/20 - ok? I swear!

If you don't believe me, please see these two photos I've used on my other blog ~ I have been reading and note-taking:

[our cat Harley gets bored by my literary ways]

:: peace like a river/pages 19-69 ::

2008-04-11T17:30:00.011-05:00

[photo by Megan Dunham. She was drinking Coca-Cola Zero, as you can see.]

Good grief, where to begin? I took nine pages of notes! I'll try my best to narrow 'em down. This will be a challenge since within pages 19-69, events happened in epic proportions, it seemed to me. That word "epic" popped up a lot, too. Let's look at the definition (warning - I'm a serious dictionary nerd):

-a long poem, typically one derived from ancient oral tradition, narrating the deeds and adventures of heroic or legendary figures or the history of a nation.
-the genre of such poems.
-a long film, book, or other work portraying heroic deeds and adventures or covering an extended period of time.

I believe Swede is typing out her own epic, don't you? I love the juxtaposition of her cowboy poetry with the Land family's unfolding drama. I may be wrong, but I see some correlations between the characters in her poem, her family, and their enemies. I see Sunny Sundown as Jeremiah Land, and Valdez as Israel Finch & Tommy Basca. I see two narrators, though. Swede the Writer is obviously one, but Reuben is the other - he often calls himself a witness. He takes his role quite seriously, both to bear witness of his Dad's miracles, and to everything that goes on around him:

"But a witness must obey his strengths, and mine, forgive me, lie in keeping the story moving."
[page 33]

Somewhere in these pages Reuben describes he and Swede as a pair. He was disturbed when she shut him out of her room, to work on her epic. And though he has a keen eye for what happens, he cannot write with a poetic spin - only Swede can. It's as if they need each other, and will always need each other. Do you agree?

Their conversation on pages 68-69 made me laugh. As a writer, I knew what Swede meant by, "Just because I write it doesn't mean it really happened." But after chuckling, I wondered, if Valdez does represent the evil of Finch and Basca, why couldn't Swede kill Valdez? Then I began to think, after Davy shot those two boys, did she begin to see Davy as Valdez? I thought, Surely not. But then I recalled her emotional reaction to Davy's shooting - so intense that Jeremiah had to restrain her in the bathroom. And, she didn't seem happy with Davy at all when they visited him in jail, though she did eventually hug her brother.

What do y'all think? Why can't Swede kill Valdez?

And about that murder, or self-defense - which was it? When I first read pages 48-50, I thought the line, "I heard the dry complaint of the kitchen floor" was brilliant. What a perfect description of a dreadful sound you do not want to hear in your home in the dark of night. Your heart would stop for fear of an intruder. I read that phrase and knew an awful scene was about to occur. And then, of course, Davy shot those two boys dead; the family's enemies wiped out. My first assessment of the encounter was self-defense. However, Basca and Finch did not attack this time. Sure, they were planning to, but before they could, Davy shot 'em down.

On second thought, I jotted this in my journal:

"Since the murder was gruesome, I liked that the writing was not dramatized. Basca and Finch were evil, but this murder was just that - murder. No fight beforehand (for self-defense). After all, Davy said, "I meant to do it." [page 51] I think he was waiting for the opportunity - to take matters into his own hands (in contrast to Jeremiah who allowed God to use his hands. Up to this point, Jeremiah defended Dolly, but did not kill)."

I'd like to know, do you think Davy committed murder or practiced self-defense?

[forgive me, but my thoughts will jump around here today ....]

"A word here about this business of taking a breath." I just want to say that Reuben's description of his asthma on pages 19-20 is accurate. I understood all too well, as a former (minor) asthmatic. If you ever have to think about breathing to any degree, it is torture. Reuben's asthma worries me. He's a good kid, but he seems rather fragile with asthma. Basca and Finch are now dead, but I sense more danger to come, and I'm concerned for Reuben. Remember when Jeremiah was praying and air-walking? He uttered Reuben's name, not Davy's. [page 18]

Is it just me, or do you keep an eye out for Reuben, too?

I was fascinated by Jeremiah's explanation of the principle of "escalation." I believe that term of war builds on the foreshadowing of a great battle on page 4:

"If he were here to begin the account, I believe Dad would say what he said to Swede and me on the worst night of all our lives:

We and the world, my children, will always be at war.
Retreat is impossible.
Arm yourselves."

Just typing that quote gives me a cold chill. Why is Reuben remembering his Dad in the past tense? I don't think I want to know yet, since we haven't see the worst night of their lives. And what about this quote?

"But Dad had spoken correctly: They did not know they'd already lost."
[page 34]

.... Referring to:

"What those fellows don't realize is, we've already won. The victory is ours."
[page 25]

I, of course, thought he meant that Basca and Finch would get theirs, and they did, but do you think Jeremiah's opinion of victory is something greater?

Another quote that sent a chill up and down my spine:

"'Onward Christian Soldiers.' Nearing the hour mark I closed my eyes and saw a picture of myself, from the side, a runnel of blood sliding out of my ear."
[page 30]

Something big is a comin' for sure.

I absolutely loved the miracle starting on page 24. Jeremiah defends Dolly, beating Basca and Finch witless, Jeremiah's face glowing like the moon, and the only luminescence in that darkened locker room. He did indeed seem like an angel - smiling, strong, though his eyes were sad - I think due to the boys' evil natures. It's also interesting to me that the miracles in this book are not the big, main events. They almost quietly occur, an assumed part of the narrative. They just happen. Always astounding, but Jeremiah never speaks of them.

Well, except for that wonderful tornado story. I was literally swept away by Enger's description of the powerful storm:

-"a pale umbilical rope"
-"a strong slender lady hip-walking through campus."
[pages 52-53]

And HELLO - did anyone predict Mrs. Land leaving her family?! When I read that, I said aloud, "No!" I thought she died, not abandoned her children. It made me admire Jeremiah even more. For one thing, he speaks fairly well of his wife, the woman who left him and his children. And he is a great father to love and care for his children as he does. You can tell that Jeremiah, Davy, Reuben, and Swede are a close-knit clan.

The tornado story also revealed interesting aspects of Davy's character. Though I believe he committed murder, and he glimmers with danger for sure, he loves his family deeply. The way he slaved over that saddle for Swede, and even the murder - he was sick and tired of the danger imminent to those he loved.

But Davy did not believe Jeremiah should have survived that tornado. It seemed wrong to him, in his perception of God. The idea of a protective God bothered him. Davy wanted to do things himself, even own up to the charge of murder and not accept self-defense. Such a plea would imply that he did not control his actions, his life. Davy makes me nervous, but he is very intriguing.

Also, why did Superintendent Holgren hate Jeremiah so? Why in the heck did Holgren make him clean that disgusting, foul school basement? Was he scared of Jeremiah? Did he have a friendship with the Basca and Finch families? And how amazing was Jeremiah to dutifully clean up the sewage? It said a lot about him to me - he just quietly did his job. I don't think he enjoyed it or believed he deserved it, but he obeyed.

And now, because I'm a writer and drool over Leif Enger's sentences, here are a few of my favorites:

"I remember it as October days are always remembered, cloudless, maple-flavored, the air gold and so clean it quivers."
[page 40]

"The afternoon was still bright and smelled of wheat stubble and warm dust."
[page 42]

"Is it hubris to believe we all live epics?"
[said Swede - that word "epic" again - page 55]

"The weak must bank on mercy - without which, after all, I wouldn't have lasted fifteen minutes."
[said Reuben - I love this quote - page 56]

I know that I've left out quite a bit from pages 19-69. There is so much ground to cover! This is where y'all come in ....
What were your thoughts on these pages? What stood out to you?

* - [I'll be reading pages 70-128 for next week's discussion. I love how Enger labels the chapters. For example, the next four: "When Sorrows Like Sea Billows Roll", "Late in the Night When the Fires Are Out", "A Boy on a Horse", and "By the Grace of Lurvy." Very telling.]

:: tomorrow's the day ::

2008-04-10T17:30:00.003-05:00

Thanks for your patience this week! I will be posting tomorrow. Until then, here's a photo from Crystal:

[she was drinking Oregon Chai w/real cream. Oh my. Y'all sure know how to drink 'round here.]

:: this week ::

2008-04-08T14:45:00.005-05:00

I promise not to mention my silly health issues in every other blog entry, but I'm not feeling so hot today. I didn't sleep much, either, so my brain is quite fuzzy - you know what I mean?

If it's OK with y'all, I will rest easy today and post my thoughts on pages 19-69 later this week (I promise). Maybe this will give some of you time to catch up to our fast readers!

For now, here is a photo by Andrea Montgomery:

[she was drinking North Carolina sweet tea. If you've never been to NC, or tasted their sweet tea, I'm so sorry. It's a gorgeous state, and the tea is amazing.]

:: year of wonders ::

2008-04-06T12:15:00.007-05:00

Year of Wonders
Originally uploaded by so-pie

Here is the other reading photo. My favorite place to read is under the covers, in bed. However, though my husband and I have lived in this house (our first) for almost a year, we've yet to purchase bedside lamps! This kills me. I'm now scouring catalogs and such to find well-designed, fairly inexpensive bedside lamps. Do y'all have any suggestions?

Who else likes to read in bed?

I love how this photograph captures reading a good book too late into the night .... Again, click the title - "Year of Wonders" (or the image) - to see the picture larger.

:: saturday mornings. ::

2008-04-06T12:09:00.007-05:00

Saturday mornings.
Originally uploaded by chaps1

I now understand why some of you are reading Peace Like a River at the speed of light! I'm starting to veer that way myself, though I already knew this book was a page-turner. I've been taking lots of notes ....

If y'all didn't know, one of my addictions is flickr. I love to look at beautiful photograph after beautiful photograph. Today, I found the domestic spaces/human traces pool, and came across two lovely pictures regarding the art of reading. Here is one; click the title - "Saturday mornings." - to see the photo larger.

Isn't the light perfect?

:: fast readers we have ::

2008-04-02T12:40:00.012-05:00

Thanks for tolerating all of my questions as I figure out how to run a book club blog. It seems that we all read at very different paces. There are library due dates to honor, and well, Peace Like a River is a-ma-zing - it's hard to put down. I really don't mind if you read ahead, but I hope y'all still want to have a discussion? Perhaps you could take good notes as you read at the speed of light?? And please, don't give away future chapter spoilers!

Sometimes I read fast, and other times I read slow. Lately, my state of health causes me to read slowish, but I enjoy every page. And, as a writer-wannabe, reading slowly helps me to notice an author's style and such things I might miss if I read too fast. Just a little bit about me ....

Anyway, I've been peeking at a few book club blogs, and I had a minor epiphany. Instead of giving you reading assignments, I will post weekly - my thoughts on 3-4 chapters at a time. Then at any point, I welcome your interesting contributions in the comments. If you want to read along at my pace, great! If not, that's OK, too.

I hope to keep this blog running for quite awhile, with many different books. Thank you for joining me!

[photo by Libby Sellers. She was drinking Celestial Seasonings decaf sweet coconut Thai chai. Yum.]

:: 3 chapters this time? ::

2008-04-01T13:15:00.009-05:00

[photo by Kate Ortiz. She was drinking rishi Earl Grey tea. Excellent choice.]

I am loving all of your comments on pages 1-18! Keep 'em coming, please. We're not done there.

Kate and I are thinking we should read three chapters for next week. I believe that's a good idea since most of you checked this book out from the library, and you can only renew it so many times. Do y'all agree? If so, read along with me: "Beauteous Are My Cakes Indeed", "Your Toughened Heart", and "Peeking At Eternity" (pages 19-69) by next ~~Tuesday, 4/8~~ week.

What are your thoughts? Too many pages? Or read even faster due to library constraints? I'm game either way. I decided I need to own this book. I've taken my Mom's copy hostage, but I shipped her a brand new copy today. I figured that was only fair.

Also, Kate hipped me to engrave journals which are engraved Moleskines. Holy! She should not have showed me that site. The dude also engraves MacBooks. I'm thinking that's expensive, but would sure help my scratched-up black laptop. I can dream, anyway.

:: peace like a river/pages 1-18 ::

2008-03-31T16:15:00.006-05:00

[drinking: rishi vanilla black tea. Photo by me.]

OK, I'm already in love with this book. Do y'all share my initial enthusiasm? With only two chapters under my belt, this story is a page-turner. Many novels take their sweet time building up to a major event, but in the first chapter of Peace Like a River, we have a dying newborn and his father, Jeremiah, pacing outside, praying. Suddenly, Jeremiah runs inside to command his ashen child, "Reuben Land, in the name of the living God, I am telling you to breathe." Reuben obeyed. My eyes bugged open.

Not only that, but at the end of the second chapter, another significant miracle occurs. When Jeremiah Land walked on air (while again praying), at that precise moment in my reading, the light bulb in a nearby lamp burnt out. I gasped. Leif Enger's writing created such a vivid picture that I was immersed. I could see the moonlight (no matter the sunlight in Houston), hear Jeremiah's footsteps on the flatbed, then "his feet noiseless, hitting nothing." A miracle occurred right in front of my eyes, just as plain as day, without any flowery prose.

You should know that most days I fully expect to see miracles. I am that idealistic, though in our society, miracles don't generally occur, or at least no one talks much about the supernatural. They're often scoffed if they do. So, as I read about Jeremiah's air-walking while my light bulb eerily snuffed itself out, I gasped with both joy and fear. For as young Reuben Land said, "A miracle contradicts the will of the earth." I long for wonder, but I'm sure accustomed to this earth, aren't you?

This brings me to a few paragraphs which grabbed hold of my attention:

"Let me say something about that word: miracle. For too long it’s been used to characterize things or events that, though pleasant, are entirely normal. Peeping chicks at Easter time, spring generally, a clear sunrise after an overcast week - a miracle, people say, as if they’ve been educated from greeting cards. I’m sorry, but nope. Such things are worth our notice every day of the week, but to call them miracles evaporates the strength of the word.

Real miracles bother people, like strange sudden pains unknown in medical literature. It's true: They rebut every rule all we good citizens take comfort in. Lazarus obeying orders and climbing up out of the grave - now there's a miracle, and you can bet it upset a lot of folks who were standing around at the time. When a person dies, the earth is generally unwilling to cough him back up. A miracle contradicts the will of the earth.

My sister, Swede, who often sees to the nub, offered this: People fear miracles because they fear being changed - though ignoring them will change you also. Swede said another thing, too, and it rang in me like a bell: No miracle happens without a witness. Someone to declare, Here's what I saw. Here's how it went. Make of it what you will."
[page 3]

Obviously we're reading fiction, but I took these paragraphs to heart, nodding up and down. And clearly, right away, there seems to be an assumption of the miraculous. It's a big theme. Do you believe in miracles? If not, did the author catch you off guard; convince you at all with the above quotes or miracles?

I also love Enger's writing style. His prose is often sparse, yet poetic. I admire how he can paint so much with very few words. I jotted down lines such as:

"I was gray and beginning to cool. A little clay boy is what I was."
[page 2]

".... let me say that a miracle is no cute thing but more like the swing of a sword."
[page 4]

"Davy was sixteen then, a man as far as I was concerned, with a driver's license and a knockout four-inch scar down his right forearm and Dad's own iron in his spine."
[pages 5-6]

"The sky spat ice and water."
[page 6]

"We hunted again that afternoon, under skies so cold frost paisleyed the gun barrels."
[page 11]

This style goes along perfectly with a story combining stark realities and glimpses of the supernatural. Very quickly, ominous foreshadowing and tension appear (a nagging sense of dread to me), yet also the beauty of prayer, miracles, and the possibility of what the characters will do.

And Leif Enger has written very intriguing characters. Jeremiah Land is a janitor, most likely overlooked by many, but he is intensely faithful and performs miracles. Reuben is growing up, observing everything, witty, vulnerable, and older than his years at times. I have my eye on him because he was allowed to live for a quite a purpose, I'm sure. Swede is a young girl, but drawn to typically un-ladylike things: hunting, gutting birds, playing with a dead goose's feet, and reading about heresy. Davy is odd to me. I can't put my finger on it in two chapters, but he seems dangerous or something, not quite right. I have my eye on him, too. What is your perception of these characters?

I could easily write more - I have so many thoughts - but I'll stop here for now. My several thoughts are rather jumbled today as I battle health issues, so please bear with me. This is my first book discussion to take part of, and thank God it's not all up to me! Along with answering my questions, I'd love to hear about anything else you noticed, loved, or disliked. Even if you disagree with my opinions, share that, too. I expect to feel healthier each following week, and likewise, I expect for this blog to smooth out into a wonderful discussion.

Comment away.

:: official plans ::

2008-03-28T19:30:00.010-05:00

[very important: a good bookmark. 'Twas a dark, cloudy day. Click to see a wee bit larger. Photo by me.]

Crystal, Christina, Andrea, and Lauren have joined the discussion, too! This is turning out to be a great group. And like I said, new visitors can hop in anytime.

It seems that everyone is OK with my idea: read the first two chapters - "Clay" and "His Separate Shadow" (pages 1-18). I will post my first thoughts on Monday, 3/31 - probably late-afternoonish. If we want to read more than two chapters the following week, that is fine by me. When I completed the 2nd chapter yesterday, I was in awe. I knew we'd love this book! I can hardly wait to read more.

In the meantime, I'm also reading The Wet Collection by Joni Tevis. She is amazing. You can read some of her essays right here. I highly recommend "Beyond the Wilderness." I've already renewed Tevis' book from the library once, and I'll be renewing again on 4/1.

Have a great weekend, y'all.

[and don't forget to e-mail your photos. Pretty please?]

:: any more takers? ::

2008-03-26T15:10:00.006-05:00

So far we have Megan, Kate, Robin, and Libby on board to discuss Peace Like a River by Leif Enger. I am so excited. Short of having y'all over to my house for book discussions, coffee, and tea, this blog is the next best thing.

I'm thinking we should read the first two chapters - "Clay" and "His Separate Shadow" (pages 1-18) - and I'll start things rolling on Monday, 3/31. How does that sound? Is that too many or too few pages? Is Monday too soon? ~~I know that Libby is waiting on her copy from the library, so~~ Should we wait 'til the end of next week? Please share your opinions.

And to others who are undecided, you should know that as much as I read, I've never led a book discussion before, so this is a new venture for me, too. If you are short on time, but still want to read the book, feel free to post just as much as you can, whenever you're able, even if that means commenting on older posts. If you are interested in this discussion at all, please contribute at your own pace.

For now, here's one of my favorite quotes so far:

"Real miracles bother people, like strange sudden pains unknown in medical literature. It's true: They rebut every rule all we good citizens take comfort in. Lazarus obeying orders and climbing up out of the grave - now there's a miracle, and you can bet it upset a lot of folks who were standing around at the time. When a person dies, the earth is generally unwilling to couch him back up. A miracle contradicts the will of the earth."
[page 3]

That and the following paragraph will probably be included in my thoughts next week, but since I already copied the above quote in my red Moleskine, I had to give you a good teaser.

Oh - if you will, please snap photos of this book and your hot beverages, and send 'em to me. I do need a photos for ~~next week~~ upcoming weeks. Thank you.

Happy reading!

* - [Mom, if you want to join us, I'll buy you a copy since you kindly loaned me yours. We'd love to have you. xoxo.]

:: preface ::

2008-03-24T14:45:00.017-05:00

Well, I decided to go ahead with a book discussion blog, seeing as I am very bookish. I've always loved reading material. I had a good, long phone chat with my Mom last night. She is a fellow bookworm, and she reminded me that she didn't give up books when I was born. I was her first priority, but she always found time to read. When I was 2-3 years old, she read on the couch while I entertained myself on the coffee table. I played with my little dishes, dolls, and books. Another favorite activity of mine was to dump all my Mom's magazines on the floor and immerse myself in glorious, glossy paper. Last night, my Mom laughed: though I'm 33 years old, not much has changed.

I'm not a mother yet, but I am determined to find a way to read once we do have babies. Our pastor's wife shared her reading tips with me; she has a two year old son and an eight month old daughter. This lady is a very attentive mom, but she discovered that she could read while nursing both bambinos, and that her daughter sometimes sleeps better if held - another prime reading opportunity. If nothing else, she reads for 30 minutes a day. These tips inspire me.

You might wonder, "What's the deal with Jenni's blog titles?" I've probably mentioned over on dreams of genevieve that for quite a long time now (even pre-Johnny), I've known my daughter's name will be Genevieve. After I married Johnny, we knew with the same certainty that our son's name will be Calvin. Call us nutty, but we just know somehow. Maybe we'll have more than two kids, but for now, we've claimed these two names. I'll wait to explain each moniker 'til I'm actually with child. I can't give away everything, you see.

As I've (hopefully) grown with dreams of genevieve the past four years, it's bothered me that my future daughter has a namesake of sorts, but not her brother. Late last night, at the mere thought of a book discussion blog, I had to give Calvin his own little namesake. Johnny and I both read like fiends due to our Moms' influences, and our siblings also read, so I'm sure Genevieve and Calvin will enjoy books to some degree. Thus, "and books for calvin" hints that we'll do our best to mold our children into bookworms. We shall pass down our book collection to both kiddos and make frequent trips to the library.

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Since I just started reading Peace Like a River by Leif Enger, I decided to make it the first book discussion here. Megan is on board - won't you join us? I'll wait if you need to request Enger's book from the library. I have a hunch we'll dig his novel, so pretty please? Both men and women are most welcome.

My other selfish motive is to learn from each of you, and the authors. I'm one of those aspiring writers, so my aim is to see books in a new light, away from my perspective, thanks to your brilliant minds. And as always, great books are some of the best writing teachers.

My plan is to read 1-2 chapters a week, post a thought or two, a few quotes, and y'all will post your own contributions in the comments. And seeing as I am not a super-talented photographer, I would love to gather your pictures of each book we read (via e-mail - in my profile). I'll post your photos here and there, giving you credit, of course.

For now, here's one of mine which I used on dreams of genevieve:

[photo by me. The bird items are Etsy gifts from my Mom, and she loaned to me Peace Like a River. The beverage is organic chai w/coconut milk.]

Enjoy clicking on my bookish links while we wait. If you know of any links that suit my fancy, please send 'em to me. By the way, don't you agree that more authors need informative, well-designed web sites? Like Marilynne Robinson, for example?