Monday, 6 January 2014

five books that nearly made it

There were several books that I finished in late December of 2013 which were interesting reads, but the rules clearly state I should only write posts for ones finished from this year. To compensate I'll briefly cover my thoughts and reactions to the several that I unfortunately finished reading too early to warrant an individual post. Hopefully one day henceforth (i.e. after January 1st 2014) I'll reread some of these, or any of the other postworthy books that I read before commencing this project, and will be able to give them a deservedly standalone chunk of reflection.

One of last year's bestselling novels, I was fairly sceptical about this from the blurb (but it was cheap in Oxfam and I wanted an easy read for the post-deadline weekend), because it just sounded twee and nice. I was wrong, it's a fantastic emotional seesaw of a novel. Harold Fry is a retired brewery inspector, and if his quiet suburban life wasn't dull and lonely enough already, his relationships with his wife and son have fallen apart almost irreparably, and he's not heard from his only friend, Queenie Hennessy, for years. However, when Queenie writes to him to tell of her terminal illness and a fond farewell, he sort of breaks - as he walks to the postbox to send off a reply, he decides to embark on a mad journey, and so walks from his home in south Devon to her hospice in Berwick-upon-Tweed. He is both wholeheartedly devoted to this quest, and completely unprepared for it. Along the way he meets dozens of colourful little characters who express admiration and support and confide in him their own losses, regrets and pains - he is able to talk freely as a pilgrim, just passing through on his way North. What he gains throughout the novel is the same as what I felt I gained through reading it; a sense of perspective and wonder at the sheer number of people on the relatively small island he's walking across, and at the dawning realisation that each of them has their own complex histories with fears and sadnesses in their past, and that given the same mad urge, everyone probably has a situation in which they could feel compelled to his same pilgrimage, desperate to atone for past things done or neglected and that if one can just keep walking determinedly then things will be okay, and upon arrival we will be forgiven the guilty deed that kept us walking. It's a very bittersweet story, with some deeply sad events contained and remembered, but with some beautifully positive images that give weight to Harold's poignant hope of redemption. All the characters seem a tad caricatured, but I think they well deserve to, because the story they're part of is more contemporary legend than novel. Quaint, encouraging, and mythic.

I bought this in a second-hand bookshop years ago and read it in two sittings on Boxing Day because of the lack of other unread material at home (most of my unread stuff got brought to uni). The basic premise is the life of Jesus, apart from (dun dun dah) he has an identical twin brother nicknamed Christ. Jesus grows up to be a morally-upstanding devout man, beloved of all but the establishment; Christ grows up to be a deceitful imitator with grand amibition for the Jewish religious authorities. Aided by a mysterious stranger, Christ realises the possible trajectory of his brother's recklessly godly mission, and records every miracle, parable and sermon of Jesus, and once a particularly well-known chapter involving a cross takes place, Christ is coerced into using his identical looks to fake Jesus' resurrection. The hope is that following Jesus' life and teachings (which the stranger and Christ manipulate to place it all in a more coherent context) this "being raised from the dead" business would help establish a durable body of committed transcendent moralist Jewish believers. It was a very strange and dissatisfying read, full of inconsistencies (if the whole thing is fake why can they do miracles? if Christ is also a devout Jew, why is he so willing to accept the stranger's heretical suggestion of doctoring scripture and framing his brother?) and questionable intent (still not sure whether it's meant to be a playful re-imagining or a genuine suggestion as to Christianity's falsehood, but one can almost hear Pullman's fellow militant-atheist friends high-fiving him for getting such drivel published). Yes, I shall stand by the word drivel, but it still counts as thought-provoking because it forces one to reassess the origins of historical texts - especially scripture. What criteria do we have for properly assessing whether something is the word of a deity, the legend of a cult, the ravings of a lunatic, or the carefully assembled craft of an ambitious writer? In light of this question, after Jesus has been crucified to death and Christ has finished editing together a broad range of records of his life and teaching, doctored to imply theological truths, Christ takes up a quiet job as a netmaker. The whole book's worth reading for that brilliant underhand metaphor.

Watching the English, by Kate Fox
Came across this book years ago on the shelf of some American friends who told me it had been recommended to them as a guide to Englishness; a cultural, social and anthropological guidebook to understanding the bizarre quirks of those cursed with English heritage. This sounded fascinating so I got myself a copy and read it (very slowly, alongside a dozen other books, as is the wont of my reading habits). If you're interested in understanding why people act in certain ways, especially English people, do absolutely read this. It's uncanny. You find yourself reading an explanation of a particular set of behaviours and thinking "this sounds insane, people who behave like this are surely insane to be part of such collectively irrational inconvenient innavigable etiquette"; and simultaneously thinking "this is hilarious, myself and people I know and strangers and cultural archetypes are like this all the time". It exposes the roots of the English psyche, and while somewhat upsettingly it provides no psychological diagnosis as to how we as a nation became so mad or how we can be cured, this is brilliant to read and comprehend. I find myself now recognising behavioural patterns more accurately and being far better able to interact with other Englishpersons (habitual pub-going, acute class-awareness and perpetual self-deprecation are good places to start). Definitely one to read if you're: A) a non-Englishperson seeking to lubricate social interactions with Englishpeople; B) a sociopathic or otherwise interpersonally stilted Englishperson (i.e. most of us) seeking to lubricate social interactions; or C) an Englishperson who might enjoy an amusing tome dissecting their population's behaviour.

No Logo, by Naomi Klein
Picked this up after finishing A-levels and, like the above, read it very slowly. It's widely-reputed as a holy book for the global anti-corporate movement, and I think rightly so. Covering an immense range of intricately researched topics, from sweatshop labour to targeted advertising to brand encroachment to job outsourcing to gagging orders and many other things. In discussion with others of a less left-wing persuasion than myself I often find they're dubious about books like it, suspecting them to be quixotic populist fabrications and distortions of fact with an "agenda". Admittedly, this book does at points seem opinionated and slightly too belligerently anti-corporate, but the sheer breadth and depth and validity of the evidence and arguments brought up against modern corporate activity more than allows it that. It's not needlessly aimlessly angry; it is a direct, calm, thorough exposition of certain things that are happening and why they are bad and what is, or could be, done to stop them. It's the kind of book that you finish filled with motivation to spread; the message is bleak but the implications are hopeful, because there is so little justification outside elite circles for their activity, and if more people were properly exposed to the truth of corporate schemes then they would almost certainly feel similarly inclined to take a stance. Much of the book is outdated, having been researched and written toward the end of the 1990's, but the motives of the corporate world haven't changed, yet their reach and power only continue to grow (as an economics student I would have liked a bit more analysis of these ongoing processes, but other books provide a plethora so no matter), as does the movement against them. So what if a book has an agenda? If that agenda is a more ethically-justified society, why does that matter? Read it and allow its insidiously positive intent to influence you.

Think, by John Piper
Got this at UCCF Forum, a campsite training week training week for students with participatory roles in UK university Christian Unions. They had an enormous budget bookstall. Never can resist those. It's a great book; the core motivation is to reconnect christians with rigorous thought that has an understanding of the gospel at its centre. This cuts strongly against both anti-intellectual sermon-swallowing fundamentalism and overly-postmodern liberal-interpretation potential heresies. A good middle line to steer, I think. As a philosophy student I am often pushed toward applying logic and scepticism to my own beliefs, which is a scary prospect for someone who never has before (most moral, social and theological truths come crashing straight down); but by practicing this we're spurred to find legitimate reasons to hold the views we do. The book holds that this helps us deeper engage with ideas so that we know God's truths better, and can better defend and explain them to others. It's not simply an exhortation to learn apologetics however; it also shows the strong bonds between "mind" and "heart" (I use the terms loosely as the book did) that the focus of mentally-upheld beliefs will also grow into the focus of our emotional passions. Thus by engaging with scripture and theology, thinking more about God, we come to realise more about him and apply it more to our lives, growing in genuine emotional love for him and gospel-centred behaviour generally. This seemed psychologically dubious but still a helpful notion; since finishing the book I've been more frequently engaging with the Bible and thinking about its truths, and do continue to grow as a christian. This is a given though, and while it was a good book, I wouldn't recommend it massively. Instead I would just encourage you (as the book does) to be better able to justify your beliefs, and reflect upon them enough to grow in application and understanding. While it was nice to have a full book of biblically-supported reasoning to hold these exhortations, I think they're basic enough to not need it. Basically, think more and think better.

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