April Book Reviews and Recommendations!

 Here are the 15 books I read in April, arranged by category:

Theology

The Cloud of Unknowing and The Book of Privy Counsel, Anonymous 

This 14th century classic is the work of an anonymous spiritual teacher from England, likely a monk, writing to a younger monk or would-be contemplative that he/she is mentoring. It is an intensely practical, calm, humble, and even humorous guide in the way of contemplation, the advance from the active life into the life of “naked intent” before God. Anonymous sets out his/her way, which could not be simpler (though not easy), and warns his/her reader(s) that it is up to us to stand by the door of contemplation, but it is up to God to welcome us in. Not everyone is called to the work of contemplative prayer, which is the highest work and which will be our eternal pursuit, but Anonymous makes clear the things to expect if one is called. So helpful and clear. 

In God’s Hands, Desmond Tutu

A series of Lenten reflections from the Archbishop, resounding with the sacrificial and pursuing love of God, particularly for the one lost sheep. As always it is good to sit under the teaching of this loving, compassionate, brilliant human. I love his kindness, even to his enemies, and his subversive love. And I hugely appreciate his notion that if you want to oppress someone the last thing you should do is give them a Bible - the most subversively liberating text possible.

Journey to the Heart: Christian Contemplation Through the Ages, Kim Nataraja 

This is a compilation of essays about historical Christian contemplatives by a number of experts. It is extremely accessible, informed, and helpful, revealing the thread of contemplation that is often buried or misunderstood, especially within the Protestant tradition. The essays take us from Jesus himself all the way up to modern times. 

I Asked for Wonder, A Spiritual Anthology, Abraham Joshua Heschel

A staggeringly beautiful ode to wonder, to hope, to endurance, to truth, to love. Heschel’s words are drawn from his many writings by editor Dresner, on topics like God, Faith, Humanity, Israel, and more. Heschel was a poet and rabbi, a profound teacher, thinker, and activist, one who saw truth and pursued it as far as it could take him. He was like a prophet, speaking words that were sometimes hard but also inviting and transformative. 

The Origins of the Christian Mystical Tradition: From Plato to Denys, Andrew Louth

A deep and wide dive into the thought of Christian mysticism, at least up until Denys (sometimes called Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite) in the 5th century. Louth traces the influence of Greek mysticism, especially through the writings of Plato, as they wound themselves through Philo, Plotinus, Origen, Evagrius, the Cappodicians and the monastics. Of greatest import was the emphasis upon apophatic - or negative - theology - the sense that all we can say about God is what God is not. And yet, at least according to the Christian mystics, the goal of life and contemplation is union with this Divine Mystery, sometimes thought of as Uncreated Light, sometimes as Divine Darkness, but certainly located in the incarnated person of Jesus Christ. Louth does a good job at summarizing and explaining the sometimes very difficult patterns of thought, and also of showing how the Christian take on mysticism developed from, but also broke from, Platonic thought. 

How to Inhabit Time, Understanding the Past, Facing the Future, Living Faithfully Now, James K.A. Smith

This 2022 book from theologian/philosopher/professional Augustine appreciator James K.A. Smith is a meditation on the way we live in time. He draws from Augustine, of course, but also heavily from Kierkegaard, Heidegger - especially his concept of the “thrownness” of our lives - Annie Dillard, James Baldwin, and Qoholet, or Ecclesiastes. His premise is that our past is really our present, we are formed by the things that have happened, individually and collectively. So we have to learn how we have been, and are being, so formed, and what it means for us to live within that givenness, that essential contingency. He challenges us to seek to live gratefully, even with the scars of our lives, which are the things that shaped us into who we are. We challenges us not to try to live out of time, not to live ahistorically, either in a kind of nostalgia for an imagined past or an apocalyptic hope for a future that simply wipes out the past and present - this pseudo Christian approach to the “end times” is actually, Smith argues, a removal of oneself from the world, from the present and past and future. It is not futural living, but ahistorical. Eschatology, if it is anything, must be lived now. This is a helpful book, though not always accessible if you don’t have some philosophical training behind you. 

Reason and Being, A Meditation on Ecclesiastes, Jacques Ellul: 

A masterful meditation, after a lifetime of study on this book. Ellul walks us through theme by theme, questioning the prevailing conclusions and challenging us to understand the deeper nuances of Qoholet as a teacher who is ironic, indirect, unromantic, clear-eyed, and yet still strangely hopeful. This is an extremely helpful counterbalance to much of the commentaries, making them in fact seem somewhat shallow and obvious.

Qoholet (Ecclesiastes), Robert Alter translation and notes: 

The final in Alter’s wisdom series, another brilliant translation, but also evidence of the dangers of interpretation. Alter, as I have noticed before, is not coming objectively to the text - I doubt that is possible, or that he would believe it possible. He brings his own prejudices and philosophy to the interpretive choices, and those must be seen for what they are (in all translators). In this particular case, Alter revels in a bleak, counter-wisdom reading of Qoholet, seeing in him primarily a fatalism that allows for no real meaning and certainly no eternal significance. Where Qoholet talks about God, and where this cannot be relegated to pious editorialising, Alter allows that even if the writer is a believer it isn’t in the God of the rest of the Scriptures. This is why it is helpful to read other interpretations, as I am doing with Jacques Ellul’s work. 

Sci-Fi/Fantasy

Parable of the Talents, Octavia E. Butler

The second and final of the Parable series, a dystopian yet ultimately hopeful story about the founding of a new religion whose Destiny it is to take humanity to the stars. I’m relatively certain Butler herself believed in this religion, whose central tenet is “God is Change”. That is, God is not a personal being who loves and cares for us - rather, the central reality of existence is change - and we can shape change, and are shaped by change. In the first novel Lauren Olamina eventually sets up her new Acorn community, with drifters and families she has gathered from the remnants of lives lost to violence and poverty in an America wracked with climate change disaster, gangs, and new forms of corporate enslavement. This book begins with the development of this community, and Lauren and Bankole’s new child, Larkin. But disaster strikes, in the form of a new President, a demagogue, former preacher, head of a new denomination called “Christian America”. His campaign slogan is “Make America Great Again.” If this book had been written in 2016, this all would be very hacky and obvious. But it was written in the nineties, which makes it scarily prescient. A branch of Christian America - the Crusaders - takes over Acorn, removes the children, and enslaves those present there for almost two years. This section of the book was very hard to read, as Butler presents the horrors of slavery in minute, realistic detail. And it is not just that she is saying this kind of thing could happen as a result of nationalist Christians - it HAS already happened, with the slavers in Africa and the settlers to North America. Everything she describes happened, with the exception of some better technology for torturing slaves. It is heart-rending. Once free, the community sets about trying to find their children and re-establish Earthseed, the religion that will help humanity grow up. I won’t spoil any more surprises here, but I will say that though I disagree with certain fundamental notions of Earthseed, I also see that Christianity requires the challenge that it presents. In some ways it could almost be derived from Ecclesiastes. This is a very important book, and extremely well-written, though not always comfortable to read. 

Binti: Home, Nnedi Okorafor 

The sequel to Binti. Binti, along with her new Meduse friend Owku, have now been at the interstellar university for a year, and she is progressing in her maths as Owku progresses in his weapons work. But something is wrong - Binti feels wrong, feels unclean, and is often caught up in anger even as she does her mathematical meditations, something that has never happened before. She decides to return to earth for her pilgrimage, something all Himba women are meant to do. And she brings Okwu with her - who will be the first Meduse to go to earth in peace. Things, of course, are not so easy as she hoped they would be, as she begins to learn layers of her ancestral identity that are not entirely welcome. 

The Erstwhile, Brian Catling

The second in the Vorrh series, an incredible complex and creative world-creation, taking place most in between the first and second world war. There are several interweaving stories, spanning Germany, England, Essenwald (a colonial city in Africa) and the Vorrh itself - the ancient forest of Eden, home to the Erstwhile, the guardian angels who had failed in their task of guarding the tree, who had been forgotten, and who are now walking up, leaving the great forest, and formulating plans. The writing and plotting is superb and bizarre, and is leading to a third and final book whose plot I cannot even imagine. Excellent stuff.

Non-Fiction

The Way of the Samurai, Inazo Nitobe

The classic work by Nitobe on the spirit of Bushido, the Samurai spirit that formed the moral, societal, and aesthetic realities of Japan. Nitobe takes us through the development of Bushido as an essential part of a Feudal Japanese society, and the various elements that constitute this departing way of life. He examines the principles of Justice, Courage, Benevolence, Politeness, Sincerity, Honour, Duty, Self-Control, Suicide and Redress, the Sword, the place of Women - all in their own context and also in comparison to the European versions of Feudalism, Chivalry and Knighthood. It is a fascinating glimpse into a way of life which no longer exists, but which still arguably forms a significant part of the kernel of Japanese society. Nitobe does not examine Bushido uncritically - at several points he advances the opinion that a martial approach to life, while helpful and natural in many ways, does not consider the whole of humanity and cannot ultimately be sustained. He is also very clear about the abuses and excesses of Samurai culture, though in a way that also points to these same issues in other cultures. But there is also a feeling throughout that Nitobe is mourning the loss of this way of life, the sense of honour and duty and self-control that exemplified the Samurai culture.

Talking to Strangers, What We Should Know About the People We Don’t Know, Malcolm Gladwell

An interesting book about why we all find it so difficult to understand strangers, even though we think we are good at it. We think we are good at spotting liars - we are not. We think we can tell a cheat or a criminal - we can’t. Even trained professionals who are supposed to ferret out spies and con artists are typically very bad at this. Why? Gladwell goes through a list of reasons, using case studies, well-known stories, theories, and more - in particular through the example of Sandra Bland, an African American woman who died in prison after a totally unnecessary interaction with a police officer who read her wrong. Gladwell talks about our default to truth, problems with transparency, and the misunderstood issue of coupling to identify why we misread people all the time, and ways we could do a better job of trying to understand strangers.

Graphic Novels

Solutions and Other Problems, Allie Brosh 

I really love this book, it is hilarious, and it made me very sad. Allie Brosh has (had?) a very popular illustrated blog, and came out with her first graphic novel, Hyperbole and a Half, a few years ago. I loved that book too, and found the art style and narration to be exactly the weirdo type of humour that hits just right. This is more of the same, though in the intervening years Allie experienced some horrific tragedy, and not just the world-wide Covid type of tragedy. She became reclusive, at least for a while. And then she came out with this massive, funny, moving book. The sad part, to me, is how often she describes herself, and then everything, as pointless (though I am also reading Ecclesiastes right now, so maybe she is onto something). There is a thread of nihilism running through the book, understandable in the light of what she has gone through, but sorrowful nonetheless. Still and all, her descriptions of her childhood, the depictions of dog and cat and horse activity, and absurdism throughout, is just delicious.

Infinitum, Tim Fielder 

A gorgeously illustrated epic that begins with the Big Bang and carries on past the heat death of the universe. So it’s fairly significant in scope. It is an Afrofuturistic story that tells the tale of King Aja Oba, ruler with his wife Queen Lewa of a vast, wealthy and powerful African nation. But they are without an heir, and Aja Oba angers his concubine, a shamaness, by taking their baby to be his heir. She curses him with eternal life, which sounds great until you realise he will lose everyone he ever loves, eventually. The story sees Aja Oba, later named John, as he experiences history from his unique perspective as an increasingly physically powerful black man who cannot die. He watches the Europeans come to Africa, is transported to America in a slave ship, participates in slave uprisings, the Civil War, the Civil Rights movement, and many other wars besides, all while loving and losing family along the way. The story then transitions into the future, as John is at the forefront of space exploration and terraforming new planets, first contact, and then intergalactic wars. All the while he continues to grow in power, but also desperation, as nothing seems able to put him to rest. This story is incredibly inventive, beautiful, violent, and thought-provoking - I could easily see it becoming a streamed series at some point.

The Trial - Luke 22:63 - 23:25

The Trial - Luke 22:63 - 23:25

Jesus accepted the arrest, the beatings, the   mockery, the insults, the accusations, the questions, and the miscarriage of   justice that were all heaped upon him. He did not try to defend himself, did   not try to remove himself from the situation, did not try to lessen the   humiliation in any way. He took what he knew was coming to him, willingly,   though he did not deserve any of it. In the previous passage Jesus said that   he would be “numbered amongst the transgressors”, quoting Isa 53, and this is   happening in this passage. Jesus identified utterly here with sinful humanity   and took upon himself the consequence of sin, though he himself had never   sinned.

 

After the story of Jesus’ arrest and Peter’s denial,   we catch a glimpse of the mockery and physical punishment Jesus had to   endure. The soldiers blindfolded and beat Jesus in order to make it clear   they did not accept him as a prophet.    This was all part of the rejection of Jesus’ identity that would   happen throughout the trial and execution. What Jesus experienced here was in   a way totally unique, but in another way it connects him to all those who   have suffered at the hands of violence. Anyone who has ever been beaten or   abused or falsely convicted by those in authority can say that Jesus, the Son   of God, has also been unjustly beaten and abused and falsely convicted.   Anyone who has ever been mocked, ridiculed and rejected can say that Jesus,   the Son of God, has also been mocked, ridiculed and rejected. Anyone who has   ever faced imprisonment, torture and execution at the hands of the state can   say that Jesus, the Son of God, also faced imprisonment, torture and   execution at the hands of the state.

 

Jesus was taken before the Sanhedrin, composed   of the chief priests, the elders and the teachers of the law. There he was   questioned about being the Messiah. Jesus could not answer no to this   question, but also knew that his questioners’ understanding of what the Messiah was and   his own were very, very different. So he answered in a way that pushed the   inquiry in a new direction. In calling himself the “Son of Man”, and speaking   of being seated at the right hand of God, he directed the Sanhedrin towards   the realisation that he was claiming not just to be the Messiah, but to be   the Son of God. The right hand is a place of honour and glory, and it   indicated a much higher position than just that of Messiah. To claim to be   the Messiah was one thing; you might be wrong, but you would not be   blasphemous. But to claim to be the Son of God was certainly blasphemous, and   it signalled the end of the Sanhedrin’s questions. They did not need any more   evidence to find Jesus guilty.

 

So Jesus was taken to Pilate, because Rome had not   given subjected people (as the Jews were in Judea) the right to execute   criminals. Only the Roman authority could have someone put to death. But the   Roman authority would not see blasphemy in the Jewish religion as the kind of   offence that should lead to execution, so Jesus was accused of subversion and   refusing to pay taxes to Caesar, charges that would weigh more heavily in the   Roman court. But Pilate could not apply these charged to Jesus, and thus did   not want to find him guilty. So he passed the buck to Herod, in whose   territory (Galilee) Jesus had begun his ministry (this was acceptable to do   under Roman law, but Herod could not give an order to have Jesus executed).

 

Herod (one of the grown children of the King Herod   who featured in Jesus’ birth story), was known as a frivolous man, not a   serious-minded ruler. He was happy to meet Jesus because Jesus was famous,   and he wanted to see a miracle. When Jesus would not answer his questions,   let alone produce a miracle for him, Herod became disinterested. He was only   interested in Jesus for the novelty factor, for something exotic or unusual   that he could show him. Many people today are still only interested in Jesus   for the miraculous that might occur, or for the benefit they might get, not   for the actual Kingdom he brings. In the presence of true royalty, in the   presence of the Son of God, Herod could only make jokes and mockery.

 

So Jesus is returned once again to Pilate, who still does not wish to find Jesus guilty. This is not because Pilate was some kind and enlightened ruler, or that the Romans were more humane. Pilate proves his character later by agreeing to torture and execute a man whom he believes to be innocent, in order to make life easier on himself by giving the angry crowd what they wanted. But Pilate did not want to execute Jesus because the charges laid against him, those of subversion and undermining Rome, clearly did not fit. Those charges did, however, fit when applied to a man like Barabbas, who was facing execution for insurrection and murder. Here was a man who deserved to die, according to the law. And yet when given the choice, the crowd in the square asked for Barabbas to be released, not Jesus. (This was due to the influence of a small number of people in authority who had chosen against the Kingdom of God and who therefore wanted Jesus to be killed, no matter what). Barabbas, a guilty man whose name means “son of the father”, was therefore released, and Jesus, an innocent man who really was the Son of the Father, was sentenced to death. Barabbas was, in a way, saved from the consequences of his sins by the presence of Jesus. This can be seen as a symbol for the greater salvation Jesus was about to effect upon the cross.

March Movie Reviews: Horror, Documentaries, Viking Stuff, Critiques of Capitalism and Indian National Mythology (with Dancing)!

 Here are the movies I was able to watch in March:

Ikiru (1952): Ikiru, which means “to live”, is a Kurosawa masterpiece about a man who learns to live in the face of soulless bureaucracy, civil politics, officious functionality (or rather, dysfunctionality). The movie begins with the information that a senior civil worker - Public Works Section Chief Mr Watanabe - is about to discover the stomach cancer that will kill him. We witness him at his desk, slowly, methodically stamping paperwork with his seal, changing nothing, accomplishing nothing, keeping his position secure by allowing for no alteration. (One of his younger workers has nicknamed him The Mummy.) Meanwhile, a group of mothers demand a park to be built and the removal of open sewage in their neighbourhood. They are promptly given the runaround through all of the city works departments, in a kafkaesque labyrinth nightmare of public irresponsibility. It is the same theme we see explored decades later in the Tojo movie Shin Gojira, in which Japanese politics and bureaucracy prevent actual, essential decisions and actions from being made. The focus in this movie, however, is less on a giant rubber monster bent on destroying Tokyo, and more on an elderly man who comes to experience life for the first time in a long time. At his funeral, which is interspersed with scenes of Watanabe pressuring the local city government officials to get the impossible park built, politicians argue over who should really get the credit for the accomplishment. It is only the group of mothers from the beginning, for whom Mr Watanabe expended his last energy, who come in and grieve his death, shaming his workmates and family. None of them can understand the sudden change that came over Watanabe - some attribute it to a love affair (he does spend time with a young woman who is full of life, but it is not a romance). The change occurs after Watanabe discovers he will die, to which the writer who takes him out for a night of debauchery proclaims: “How tragic that man can never realise how beautiful life is until he is face to face with death.” But the change is truly crystallised when Watanabe decides to spend himself on behalf of others, not to serve the bureaucratic system, but to serve instead the women and their families who were suffering. Eventually some of the civil servants at the funeral discern that Watanabe changed and lived because he knew he was going to die, and they proclaim that they would do the same thing. But one of them says: “But any of us could die at any moment.” So what is stopping them from living, and from living for others? This is a vital and beautiful message for our day and age. 

Memory: The Origins of Alien (2019): On the 40th anniversary of the release of the iconic space horror, this documentary looks back at its creation. It follows the inspiration of the writer, Dan O’Bannon, the director, Ridley Scott, and the primary artist, H.R. Giger. Alien is presented as an amalgam of myths, drawn from the cultural “cauldron of stories”. So we have the Furies and the Oracle at Delphi; Egyptian mythology; mediaeval demons; Lovecraft’s weird fiction; comic books and 1950s-60s space movies; the horrors of nature such as parasitic wasps; and the guilt of a misogynistic culture all coming together to create a monstrous threat that we all felt deep in our subconscious. They focus quite a bit on the chest-buster scene, naturally, as it was a huge transformation point not just in the movie, but in movies in general. There was a lot of background info that I hadn’t known before, so this was a really fun watch.

Gilbert (2017): Wow. A behind-the-scenes look at one of the strangest, most unique, funniest and in some ways saddest comics ever. Gilbert Gottfried, who died in 2022, was very improbably married with two children. The documentary looks at this strange family life, alongside Gilbert’s birth family, the start of his career, his cheapness, the trouble he got in with certain jokes and tweets, and the universal love and esteem he received from other comedians. Lots of dirty jokes in the movie, as is to be expected.

A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night (2014): My favourite Persian black and white vampire movie of all time. I had seen this one before when it was in theatre, and I remember it being incredibly cool, a little gory, and featuring one entirely bloodless scene that was amongst the scariest I had ever seen. The movie holds up. It is a mix of 1950’s American cool, Spaghetti Western,1980’s pop/skater culture, modern Iranian life, female empowerment, tense love story and Vampire chic, with the perfect soundtrack. The central image is of a youngish girl, wearing a hijab (which is a remarkable replacement for the traditional vampiric cape), out on the streets at night. This is normally a time of incredible vulnerability and danger for women and girls in all cultures, modern Iran included. This vulnerability is highlighted by the juxtaposition of the Girl with an abused, cheated, and depressed prostituted woman. The juxtaposition is so powerful because the Girl is not at all vulnerable; she is the danger in the night, and she stalks mainly those who have been preying upon women, and who believe her to be an easy target. An excellent reversal and subversion of the genre, and well worth the time if you are into that kind of thing. Directed by Ana Lily Amirpour, starring Sheila Vand, and executive produced in part by Elijah Wood (Frodo).

The Northman (2022): The Swedish/Icelandic viking story at the heart of both Hamlet and The Lion King, but with a lot more blood. Directed by Robert Eggers, who has previously helmed excellent, fantastical and dark movies such as The Lighthouse and The Witch, this movie combines real life violence with the raw elements of Norse religion - seers, Norns, Valkyries, the World Tree, and Valhalla. It is the well-versed but still fresh-seeming story of a young boy whose father, the king, is killed by the king’s half-brother. The new king takes his brother’s wife for his Queen, and tries to kill the boy, who escapes. The boy’s life is now bent upon revenge, and he gains an awful lot of muscle and fighting ferocity in order to accomplish it several years later. Egger’s best talent may be creating an atmosphere that melds myth, confusion and realistic humanity. To the end, Bjork plays a seer.

Triangle of Sadness (2022): A crazy movie. Begins with a scathing take down of the male modelling industry, moves into an awkward set of conversations about money and gender roles, then changes the setting to a luxury yacht where horrible people play out class system dynamics until everyone starts vomiting. We then end up on what seems to be an abandoned island with part of the shipwrecked yacht passengers, and where the class dynamics are overturned by one of the unseen crew who actually knows how to do stuff to survive. But then class and power dynamics are subverted one final time. It is a trip, a little disjointed, but definitely with something to say. Warning - an awful lot of vomit.

RRR (2022): I’m not completely sure what I just watched. I know it was my first Telugu-language movie (dubbed into Hindi and with English subtitles). I know it was over three hours long, and included at least two huge, long dance scenes and several very long and massive fight sequences. I also know it was an over the top, gloriously absurd action movie based (very loosely) upon real-life revolutionaries against British Imperial rule in India. It also seemed to be a pretty blatant piece of Hindu-nationalist propaganda, much of which I would have missed had I not been watching with an Indian friend who was able to pick up on the worrying elements with ease. The English characters and dialogue were, frankly, ridiculous and utterly one dimensional, but this perhaps makes up for decades of English writers creating frankly ridiculous and one dimensional Indian characters. It is certainly watchable and entertaining, but you should go in with your eyes open, aware that it’s extremely violent, and ends with as nationalistic a song as you could imagine.

Kubrick by Kubrick (2020): Based upon an extremely rare taped interview of the notoriously reclusive master-director, Stanley Kubrick. Kubrick speaks about his films, his process, his actors, his themes, and art in general, and his words are accompanied by scenes from his oeuvre of movies. Having seen most of Kubrick’s films, this was a fascinating glimpse into the mind of the perfectionistic auteur.

March Book Reviews: Theology, Fantasy, Sci-fi, Prayer, and Kafka!

 Here are the books I managed to read in the month of March:

The Life of Moses, Gregory of Nyssa: The classic narrative and interpretation of Moses’ life, taught by the Nyssan for the development of virtue. Gregory relates Moses’ history in the first part, and in the second devotes his considerable learning and intuition to explaining, through analogy, how the events of Moses’ life speak to us today. In particular he describes how the various symbols and actions are forms that point to Christ, and to the way we are to walk with Christ.

The Graveyard Book, Neil Gaiman: The Graveyard Book might actually be my favourite Gaiman story, and that is really saying something. I read it first as a graphic novel, and have read it a number of times now as the full novel, and each time I am transported into a dark but loving world on the boundaries of life and death. Gaiman has a way of subverting expectation, of taking the ones we perceive as monsters (and who ARE monsters) and revealing them to be capable of great kindness and good, while also showing the evil that can lurk in the recesses of the human heart. Gaiman does not shy away from this human darkness, be it the organised, millenia-long evil of the Jacks of all Trades (a delicious and absurd invention), or the very real evil of school bullies (reminiscent of Stephen King's IT), or the pettiness of graveyard ghosts who still want to be proved right and important. Bod Owens is a wonderful character, the straight man to the ghosts, ghouls, and guardians at play around him. Miss Lupescu, and even more, Silas, are the real standouts here, though, as part of the Honour Guard (a Vampire and a Hound of Heaven). I'm not sure I have ever read another work in which the potential nobility of these characters has been so beautifully depicted. 

Binti, Nnedi Okorafor: The story of a young Himba girl, from Earth, who is the first of her people to be admitted to Oomza Uni, an off-planet, multi-race university. She is a genius in maths, currents and harmonizing, but her people do not like outsiders and do not leave the planet, so her journey is a risk. On her way to the university her ship is attacked by the Meduse, a gaseous, jelly-fish-like species that hates humans. There has been a truce between the races, but someone at Oomza Uni took their chief’s stinger and put it in their museum. Binti is the only survivor of the attack, because of her strange edan (and unknown piece of seemingly dead tech) and her otjize, the clay and oil from her land with which she covers her skin and hair. These two things protect her and enable her to communicate with the Meduse, and hopefully to resolve the tense situation once they arrive at the University. I really like Okorafor’s work, and I know there are more in this series which I will read. My only issue is that the murders of all of Binti’s fellow student passengers seems to go unremarked and unresolved in the final analysis, which seems an oversight. 

The Vorrh, Brian Catling: The Vorrh is the ancient forest - essentially Eden - that inhabits the heart of Africa in this magical realistic fantasy novel. This book is very, very strange, wonderfully written, with a vast host of characters engaged in seemingly disparate adventures, but all of which relate in some way or another to the Vorrh. The forest cannot be accessed for too long or it takes one’s memory, as the price of entry. There are other strange attributes of the forest, including the Erstwhile: angels tasked with defending the forest, but who have largely forgotten their purpose. This book is also populated by cyclopses, magicians, healers, hunters, a zombie workforce, the Orm, and the French. The first in a trilogy. 

The World We Make, N.K. Jemisin: Sermons, be they political, economic, social or religious, rarely make for great novels. There are a few notable exceptions; this book is not one of them. It’s still good, and I love the idea of the Duology (paired with The City We Became, and also one of the short stories from How Long Until Black Future Month?). New York City comes to life, with a primary avatar and other secondary avatars representing the various boroughs. The one hold out, and then traitor, is Staten Island, who teams up with R'lyeh, an interdimensional being working for the Ur, whose job it is to destroy human cities because they create new multidimensional realities that cause the Ur serious problems. That groundwork was laid in the first book, and this book carries the narrative forward through an NYC mayoral race, a huge City Summit of awakened cities, and some mathematical discussion of the multiversal tree of existence which NYC is about to slide off. As in the first book, while R’lyeh - the Woman in White - is the primary villain who has taken over Staten Island, the other villains are, essentially, Republicans. The sermon of this book could be titled: “Why New York is Better Than You - But Only Cool, Progressive New York.” Even where I agree with the issues Jemisin is raising, and I often do, I guess I am tired of the world’s current state of self-righteous posturing and polarising. And there seems to be an awful lot of it in this book. The book is also very rushed - the series was meant to be a trilogy, but Jemisin explains in the postscript that real world events derailed that plan. She seems to have taken a lot of current socio-political issues and worked them into the narrative, but sacrificed in-depth characterisation to do so. Some of the boroughs/avatars are barely mentioned in this book, contributing to the real flattening of the New York character (though State Island does get at least a little redemption at the end). So this is not, obviously, my favourite N.K. Jemisin novel, (and I have really loved her other work.) 

The Furthest Station, Ben Aaronovitch: I had read this one before - it was actually the first in the Rivers of London series I read - but wanted to revisit it after reading the rest of the series. It is about a series of ghostly apparitions appearing on the London Underground, all seemingly trying to get a message across to weary commuters. Peter, Nightingale, Abigail and Jaget work tirelessly to discern the message and rescue the real life victim involved. Really fun and engaging writing and ideas by Aaronovitch, as is true of the entire series.

In the Shelter, Finding a Home in the World, Padraig O Tuama: A gently wild, wide-ranging and poetic account of a life seeking story and shelter and hope and welcome. O Tuama tells of his childhood, his fears, his realization that he is gay and how that will affect his engagement with his religion, his work in reconciliation, and much more. But it is not a biography or any kind of straightforward account of a life. It is far more interested in saying “hello” to the tensions of our existence, which contain both peril and possibility. This is a beautifully offered book, and it has much to teach about prayer, faith, life and love. 

Young Hellboy: The Hidden Land, Mignola, Sniegoski, Rousseau: A story of Hellboy’s youth, when he, his adoptive father, and a female pilot who can turn herself into a giant ape have to deal with an ancient undead queen in a hidden jungle. Rollicking good fun, reminiscent of 1940’s detective serials, and that’s on purpose. 

Give It Up! And Other Short Stories, Franz Kafka and Peter Kuper: An illustrated compendium of some of Kafka’s absurd, darkly humorous short stories, most of which have to do with the frustrating futility of modern life and impossible interactions with bureaucratic authority. The illustrations are excellent, and I remember the short story of The Hunger Artist from my Grade 12 year. 

Proverbs, Robert Alter translation and notes: I have read Proverbs a number of times, but this was the first time I read it directly after engaging with the provocative poetry of Job (and just before the also provocative poetry of Ecclesiastes). The dictums in Proverbs therefore seemed, well, more idealistic, less philosophical, less nuanced. Wisdom is still viewed in its practical lens, but many of the sayings take the form of aspirational truths, rather than descriptions of reality. Chapter 30 brings things more into line with God as the author and only true holder of wisdom, but the rest of the book feels more folksy, more proverbial, to make an obvious point. 

February Movies

 Here are the movies I watched in February

• Apollo 10 ½, A Space-Aged Childhood (2022): A Richard Linklater photo-realistic animated movie about one kid, his family, and the mission to the moon in 1969. Much of the movie concerns the life of 10 year old Stan and his experience of childhood and family life in Houston, Texas, 1969. It is presented as an idyllic time to be a kid, with all the space-aged wonders at their finger-tips. A huge amount of setting is covered, from backyard baseball to classic television, music, drive-in theatres, Astro World, school discipline, and more. Vietnam, protests, and inequalities are mentioned, but they are seen as through the confused and narrow vision of a child. The real story dominating everyone’s imagination was the mission to walk on the moon. But in this story, NASA comes to Stan’s school and recruits him to actually be the first person to walk on the moon (because they built the first lunar landing module too small). So his mission becomes Apollo 10 ½, a secret mission that he can’t tell anyone about. The story is narrated by Jack Black, and is classic Linklater in its nostalgia, its true sense of the wonder of childhood, and its day-in-the-life storytelling and aesthetic. One of the themes of the movie, made explicit right near the end, is about the nature of memory. Even if we slept through an event, we will remember it as if we saw it all. This is a clue as to how Linklater is self-aware about how he is remembering the 1960’s of his childhood. A fun, sweet, gentle movie. 

• Phantom Thread (2017): A majestic and troubling movie from P.T. Anderson, starring the always magnificent Daniel Day Lewis as Woodcock, and the equally remarkable Vicky Krieps as Alma. Set in post-war England, Lewis is a famous dress-maker named Woodcock, who dresses the rich and aristocratic. He is viewed as a genius, and his life is kept in a strict routine of self-centred control. Living with him is his sister, also unmarried, played with frosty perfection by Lesley Manville. She manages his life and business, and also arranges for his lovers to be removed from his sight when he inevitably tires of them. When Woodcock meets the waitress Alma in the country he is smitten. Her body dimensions are perfect to his mind, because they allow him to shape her in his dresses. For her part, she brags that nobody can stand as still and for as long as her. (As an aside, while much of the film is a difficult watch because of the awkward, understated social interactions, I think I would pay full price just to watch Day Lewis make measurements. He is a superlative actor.) The movie seems to be about Woodcock’s “genius”, which is really made possible by the army of women around him who receive no credit: his sister, Alma, his models, and all the seamstresses who make his drawings reality. Woodcock is a fragile man-child, and everyone knows it, but Alma is the only one to call it out (except for his sister on one memorable occasion). A recurring theme throughout is Woodcock’s dreams and memories and visions of his mother. He longs to be a child again, tender and helpless, cared for by a maternal figure. And this is precisely what Alma arranges to happen. It is the most toxic of relationships, though both seem to be getting what they want from it. Certainly a worthy viewing.

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• Weird: The Al Yankovic Story (2022): Wow. Of course Weird Al would make a biopic about himself that was actually a parody of his life. From the trope-filled oppression of childhood dreams; to the alternate reality in which accordion’s are the devil’s plaything and the envy of all teenagers; to the instant rock success; to the real authorship of “Eat It”; to the drunken binges and murderous rampages; Weird makes fun of Weird Al’s real life, making it way more sordid and stereotypical than it actually was. Daniel Radcliffe is brilliant as Weird Al, and Rainn Wilson and especially Rachel Evan Wood are phenomenal as well. I don’t want to ruin any surprises, but there is a surprise twist about two thirds in that really amps up the crazy. All I will say is, I can’t imagine that either Madonna or Pablo Escobar are too pleased with their depictions in the movie. And the estate of Michael Jackson might be a little upset as well. But hopefully everyone has a good sense of humour about it all. The final credits are worth sticking around for.

• Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania: I may not have even seen this one in theatre, but went with a few friends. Ant-Man has been a bit hit and miss in the MCU, and this one was, well, hit and miss. There were some funny moments; Paul Rudd is always entertaining, and the rest of the cast are good as well; the CGI was quite believable; and Kang is a legitimately menacing villain. But the melodrama was pretty forced; the whole thing felt like just another big set-up for what will happen later; and the ants once again become a pretty silly deus ex machina. On the subject of MODOK, I’m torn. Feels like a bit of a waste of a character, and the face didn’t really look right. But then again, he is a big floating murder-head, and he had some very funny lines. So let’s call it a draw. 

February Book Reviews

Here are the books I read in February. Perhaps there are some gems herein that others may enjoy.

Waiting on God, Simone Weil: 

Many of the writings of Weil, from her letters to a priest, to her advice to students, her reflections on affliction and the implicit love of God, and her thoughts on the Lord’s Prayer. Weil is masterful, attentive, and unrelenting in her thought and action. If she believed something she followed it through until the bitter end, logically and experientially. As such, her words are searing and truthful, sometimes brutal and stark, and piercing in a way that few writers can or even want to manage. The most important of her revelations, to me, was on the nature of attention: God’s attention to us, our attention to God, to religious matters, to nature, to neighbours, to those in affliction, and to friends. It is in this place of total attention that Weil sees the true manifestation of faith, the true sacramental encounter with God. 

The Fire Next Time, James Baldwin: 

You know a book is really good when you feel you must approach it with trepidation. Each line of Baldwin’s missive (really two letters from Baldwin - one brief and one long - to his nephew, on the occasion of the 100th anniversary of Emancipation in the USA) is both sharp and blunt. He sharply cuts incisively into the heart of the historical and contemporary oppression of Black people in the West, and bluntly gut-punches any attempt at justification or prevarication. It is largely based upon his own autobiography, his own rearing in a ghetto surrounded by poverty, drugs and churches, none of which offered any true liberation in Baldwin’s mind. At a certain point in his life he did escape into the Church, but ultimately did not find the truth of love therein. At another point he was invited to meet with Elijah Muhammad and the Nation of Islam, but likewise could not see the liberating truth of love in calling all white people devils and working for a separation of states, black and white. Baldwin is incredibly wise and perceptive, deeply and consistently aware of the diagnosis and prognosis of America’s racial line, and forthrightly adamant in his prescription of love. Not sentimental love, mind. Love that enables people to see things - especially ourselves - as they really are, no matter how painful the glance. His book ends with hope, but also a warning. The opportunity exists (he wrote in 1969) to reexamine everything, to recreate a country on the foundation of total liberty for black people, which would actually lead to genuine liberty for white people. But he is unsure whether it will happen, and, should it not, he invokes the biblical warning that it won’t be the judgement of water, but fire next time. 

Parable of the Sower, Octavia E. Butler: 

A profound and disturbing book, the kind of book that gives science fiction a reason to exist. It is the story of Lauren Olamina, a young black girl in California, beginning in 2024. Though written in 1993, the book describes a climate catastrophe in which rain has mostly stopped, lakes have dried up, and society is in near-collapse. Towns are surrounded by walls and try to keep robbers, rapists and arsonists out. Lauren’s family is in one of these towns, and the description of a pastor/teacher father trying to protect his family, including a precocious daughter and a reckless son, from arson and poverty and violence cut a little too close to home. Lauren loves her father, but can see what is coming more clearly than anyone else, and begins to prepare for life outside the walls. She is a Sharer, one who experiences the pain of others empathetically - but physically - when she sees it. Also, and most importantly, she has developed her own new faith, called Earth Seed, which has as its central tenet: God is Change. Her idea of God could not be more different than my own, but her desire to create a new form of community, once the inevitable happens and she is forced to flee with a few survivors, absolutely resonates with me. The depiction of life in this cataclysmic moment is stark, artful, and brutal. Butler pulls no punches in her realism. It is dystopic, but it is also not without hope and possibility.

Jacob’s Ladder: On Angels, Sergius Bulgakov: 

A fascinating book, written by a man who was exiled from the Soviet Union, and on the eve of the Second World War. At this precise, precarious moment in history, Bulgakov chose to write a book about angels. Why? It has nothing to do with escapism. Quite the opposite. Bulgakov discusses in detail the ways angels interact with humanity and God, as detailed through Scripture, Church tradition, and philosophy. Angels are intimately involved in every aspect of human life, personal and corporate, and in their nature participate in Divine love. They pray for us, guide and protect, communicate the messages of God, and are our intimate friends who we will greet in glory. Bulgakov examines their nature; the fall of the demons; angelic roles; the examples of angelophanies/theophanies in the OT; their particular relationships to Mary, John the Baptist, and Jesus; and much more besides. This is no light and fanciful work, but a serious theological and philosophical examination of angels which both moved and challenged me. I had genuinely never thought about much of this before, even though angels are everywhere throughout Scripture and in the stories of the Church. I can honestly say my perspective on this has been massively expanded and I am excited to interact more meaningfully with my guardian angel, and to meet my angelic friend one day in glory. 

The Sophiology of Death, Essays on Eschatology: Personal, Political, Universal, Sergius Bulgakov: 

A masterful series of essays on the subject of death, and the working of Divine Wisdom in and through death, including Bulgakov’s own near-death experience. Bulgakov speaks of Divine Sophia and Created Sophia - that is, the uncreated Divinity, and the creation that has been made to become united with God. The eschatological hope and promise is that Divine and Created Sophia will become in union, as Creation (humanity and the cosmos) is divinized. This is already happening, through the overshadowing of the Spirit upon Mary, the Incarnation of Jesus (the God-Man) and the Pentecostal filling of the Church with the Spirit. So death, which Bulgakov speaks of as an unnatural rupturing of humanity’s body, soul and spirit, will still eventually lead to the reunion of these elements in the kingdom. Bulgakov works through the implications of this in terms of Mary; Christ’s death and resurrection; the idea of conditional immortality (which he opposes); and the apocatastasis of all things, including angelic and even demonic beings. Not an easy read at all, but absolutely mind-blowing all the same. 

Relics and Miracles, Two Theological Essays, Sergius Bulgakov: 

Two works by Bulgakov, on relics and on miracles. The first, on relics, was brought about as a result of Soviet officials breaking open the containers that held relics inside of Orthodox Churches, “examining” them (pulling them apart) and showing the results to believers. This was an attempt to undermine belief, to show that the remains were not incorrupt. Bulgakov was scandalised by this practice, but used the occasion to develop a theological explanation of what relics are and what they are not. In particular he argues that while incorruptibility is possible, and considered essential in the popular view, a proper understanding of humanity’s essential corporeal nature and the body’s relationship to soul and spirit will show us that this is not required. I had never before truly considered what relics really even were, so Bulgakov’s use of relics to highlight truths about our incarnate reality is fascinating and helpful. The second work, on miracles, is much longer and more intricate. Bulgakov goes through the nature of miracle, explains that they are not suspensions of natural law but rather ongoing providential acts of God’s freedom (not creational acts), and then demonstrates the nature of Jesus’ miracles, ending with the resurrection. Most importantly, in my view, Bulgakov talks about Jesus’ miracles - apart from the resurrection - as a function not just of his divine nature, but of his human nature. There is no separation of natures here, for example in the raising of Lazarus. Jesus was divine in his God-nature, but also deified in his human nature, and what he did is something theoretically accessible to us all. The resurrection, however, is the miracle of miracles, the acting of the Trinity in granting Jesus’ soul the ability and right to raise the body from the dead. Wonderful work, though not an easy read. 

Writings from the Philokalia, on Prayer of the Heart, edited by E. Kadloubovsky and G.E.H. Palmer: 

A huge book of excerpts from the Philokalia, those writings of various monks, abbas and staretz, spiritual athletes who spent years in solitude and silence in their caves and cells. Their primary preoccupation was the prayer of the heart. This means the descent of the mind into the heart, the guarding of the heart from all distraction, wandering (prelest) and dispersion, and the keeping of sobriety through the invocation of the name of Jesus. There is much that is challenging and profitable herein, and much that sounds very strange to our modern ears. It is counsel given primarily from monks to monks, so this must be born in mind. It is not, generally speaking, a way of life that most people could or even should practise, but it does point the way to a profound experience of prayer, of divine light, and of guarding against the lusts of the flesh. 

Jailbird, Kurt Vonnegut: 

Vonnegut’s writing is always unique and entertaining. In this book he follows the life of Walter F Starbuck, son of immigrants, raised in the home of a stuttering millionaire industrialist who sends him to Harvard in return for playing chess with him. Eventually Starbuck goes to jail for barely participating in Watergate. But that’s not really what the novel is about. It careens across the decades, filling in bits of Walter’s story, but in Vonnegut’s inimitably natural way. Nothing feels forced here, just a man remembering his life and all the strange coincidences inside of it. And there are many seeming coincidences which reveal themselves over the course of the book, often hilariously. Vonnegut also manages to convey the fundamental absurdity of life, while also defending the poor and the anarchists against industrialists and ending with a stirring invocation of the Sermon on the Mount. Great stuff.

Job, Robert Alter translation and notes:

I am a huge fan of Alter's translations of the Hebrew Scriptures, and of Job in particular. Alter demonstrates the poetic genius of Job's author, particularly in placing the most cliched poetic statements in the mouths of Job's "friends", while giving Job's contrary viewpoint (contrary to the rest of Wisdom literature, especially) a powerful poetic expression. This expression is only bested by the sublime poetry coming from the mouth of God in the final chapters as He addresses Job's complaint with the power of his presence. Magnificent.

Fantastic Mistakes, Neil Gaiman and Chip Kidd: 

The transcript of Gaiman’s speech to the 2012 graduating class of the Philadelphia University of the Arts, in which he implores the graduates to make mistakes, learn from them, and carry on making good art, but unique art, art only they can make. It is counsel won from years of making mistakes and making good art in ways that nobody thought could be done. The speech is presented by graphic designer Chip Kidd in a way that is visually arresting.

Prophet Against Slavery: Benjamin Lay, Markus Rediker, David Lester: 

The story of a dwarvish, hump-backed Quaker who railed against the Society of Friends in three countries (England, Barbados, and America) for the sin of slavery. Benjamin Lay and his wife Sarah, largely forgotten or suppressed by history, were tireless provocateurs in the fight against the enslavement of humans by humans. Lay employed shocking tactics to try to wake his fellow Quakers up from their sin, and he was motivated primarily by his love for God, his obedience to God’s truth, and his compassion for his brother and sister humans. The art in this graphic novel was not, to my mind, the best I had seen, but the story was gripping and important.

Obeying Authority - Acts 4:1-31

The passage we are looking at here is a continuation of the story that   began in Chapter three, when Peter and John met and healed the crippled man   at the Temple gates. After the man was fully healed, Peter began preaching to   the assembled crowd about Jesus’ death and resurrection, and his power to   heal and save. Chapter four completes the story, as we see the instant   response of the people and the authorities to this healing and message.

 

Peter’s message was broken up by some Sadducees along with some priests   and the Temple captain. The Sadducees were a political and social group made   up primarily of the wealthy, ruling class. They were collaborating with the   Romans politically, and as such did not like the potentially subversive and   destabilizing message of Jesus and his followers. They also were not looking   for a Messiah, believing that the messianic age had already begun prior to   Jesus, and they did not believe in the resurrection from the dead (on this   point and others they were opposed by the Pharisees – Luke 20:27-40). Thus, the followers of Jesus were seen as   agitators and heretics, unschooled people engaged in unauthorized preaching   and teaching. Their instant response the commotion of the healing and   preaching was to throw Peter and John into jail for the night until they   could meet and discuss the situation.

 

But theirs was not the only response that Luke recorded. Many of those   who heard the word that Peter preached believed and became followers of   Jesus. These two opposite reactions to the message of Jesus became quite   familiar to the young Church as the story of Jesus spread around the known   world. Wherever they went they saw people coming to believe in Jesus, and   they also faced persecution from the authorities or other social and   religious interests.

 

The next day at the trial we see Peter and John   facing another eerily familiar experience: the high priest Caiaphas, his   relative Annas, and the rest of the Sanhedrin (rulers and elders and scribes)   sitting in judgment of the message they preached. They had seen this very   thing weeks before at the trial of Jesus, and may very well have expected a   similar fate. The first question, though, focused on the healing of the man:   by what authority had Peter done this? Peter and John’s responses throughout   the trial did not centre around defending themselves, but rather on   glorifying the name of Jesus.    The healing of the man could not be denied, and so the apostles   focused on demonstrating how it was by the power and name of Jesus that this   had happened, and more besides. The rulers were amazed by their bold and   profound responses, given that they were common and uneducated men (ie not   Rabbis nor trained by professional Rabbis). Jesus had prophesied in Luke   12:11 and Luke 21:12ff that the   disciples would be brought before the rulers and synagogues to face trial,   that the Holy Spirit would give them words to say, and that this would be an   opportunity for them to bear witness about Jesus. All of this was being   fulfilled, and would continue to be throughout the life of the young Church.   The main thing Peter and John were testifying about was the power of the name   of Jesus to heal and to save.  In   fact, they declare that Jesus’ name is the only name that has the power to do   this, because of his death, resurrection, exaltation by God and authority.   This is truly the crux of Christianity; will you put your faith in the saving   power of Jesus?

 

As much as their message may have annoyed them, the   rulers and elders could not do anything to them at this stage, because the   crippled man stood before them healed, and everyone knew about it. So they   issued them an instruction which, if disobeyed, could be grounds for their   arrest and punishment later. The instruction was to cease and desist all   preaching and teaching in the name of Jesus.  This was an instruction Peter and John simply could not   obey, and they told the court as much. They had an allegiance to a higher   authority than the court, namely God, and they could not disobey his command,   nor could they stop talking about what they had seen and heard God do. The   Church then and today cannot obey orders to stop witnessing to the risen   Lord, even if there are terrible consequences that must be accepted as a   result.

 

The authority of God is declared again after Peter   and John are released and they return to their friends to pray. The first   words they use in their prayer are “Sovereign God”, a title that means “a   ruler of unchallengeable power”, far more power and authority, therefore,   than the Sanhedrin, or any other authority for that matter. They continue on   in prayer declaring who the Lord is: he is the God of Creation who made   everything; he is the God of revelation, who spoke by the Holy Spirit through   David and Scripture; and he is the God of history, who has used even his enemies   (Herod, Pilate, Gentiles and Israelites) to accomplish his set purposes. In   quoting Psalm 2 the church hammers home the point   that opposition to the will of God, even by nations and kings and those with   earthly power, is ultimately futile and fruitless. This is a God in whom the   young Church can be confident, a God who is trustworthy and able to deal with   their own situation.

 

After these declarations of faith, the new Christian   community goes on to ask God to consider the threats against them, to help them   speak with boldness, and to bring about more healings and miracles. They do   not ask for their enemies to be consumed in fire, but rather that God would   heal and show himself in signs and wonders. The immediate result is a fresh   encounter with the Holy Spirit, similar to that experienced at Pentecost,   which affirms the presence of God with them and empowers them to continue   speaking about Jesus with boldness, in defiance of the instructions given to   them. They need this Holy Spirit empowering, as the trials and tests, from   outside and inside, have only just begun.