This year I read slightly fewer books than usual, but did take the time to read some classics that I hadn't read before. I also read a number of books in the genres of theology; fiction; prayer and spiritual development; sci-fi/fantasy; poetry; non-fiction; graphic novels; and Scripture.
To the Lighthouse, by Virginia Woolf.
A magnificent and strange achievement. This novel takes place almost entirely subjectively, inside the minds of the characters. There is almost no action, and very little narrative to speak of. The first half of the story focuses on a large English family and a number of guests who are vacationing in a place like the Isle of Skye. They have a large cottage near the ocean, and there is a lighthouse off the coast which some of them hope to visit the following day to bring supplies to the man and his son who live there. Some are painting, some are composing poetry, some are walking along the beach, some are philosophising. They all gather in the evening for dinner, and one of the couples gets engaged a little beforehand.
That is the extent of the outside, objective action, but the inside, subjective action is massive. Each character’s viewpoint is examined, at great length. Subjects such as the conflict between men and women; the nature of beauty; the possibility of advancing abstract thought; permanency vs temporality; and the grounding force of love are all minutely and passionately explored.
I personally don’t know any person - let alone a group of people - who think like the people described in this book, but I don’t think it is the point. The first half of the book is all about the power and potential of life, and the focal point is Mrs. Ramsey, a staggeringly beautiful woman, wife of Mr. Ramsey, mother of eight children, and the centrifugal force around which the other characters tend to revolve. She is the stabilising factor and the impetus for the advancement of life. She brings order into chaos, and most love her for it. There is then an interlude, which is the only “objective” portion of the book, and in which time rushes into change and in some cases destroys the stability and potentiality offered up in the first half. The second half of the book, which takes place ten years later, again at the cottage, is then largely about the consequences of change and chaos and inevitability of death. A journey to the lighthouse is finally made, and Lily completes her painting, which she describes as a vision in the last line of the book.
The entire book is a vision, almost an apocalypse or revelation, of the spiritual/mental/emotional depths lurking underneath the surfaces of our everyday experiences. Not an easy read at all, but very worth the effort.
Invisible Man, Ralph Ellison
A masterpiece of existential writing. Ellison puts the narrator into the invisible skin of a young black man from the South who moves to Harlem in the 1930’s, the time of a great renaissance in that neighbourhood.
The novel then goes back to his childhood in the South where he holds an idealistic belief in how he and his people can come out of the darkness of post-slavery and into a true partnership in a new America. But he is also haunted by his grandfather’s dying words: "overcome 'em with yeses, undermine 'em with grins, agree 'em to death and destruction, let 'em swoller you till they vomit or bust wide open."
The narrator ends up at the premier African American college in the South, but his hopes of advancement are dashed by an experience with one of the white patrons of the college which goes horribly wrong. He learns that the black president of the college is not concerned with equality or advancement but with his own place of power.
So the narrator is sent to New York to try to make his way. In New York he is betrayed by capitalists, by socialists, and even by black nationalists. No one really “sees” him, not even the residents of Harlem who are too accustomed to being fooled. He is a tool, a project, a problem, a traitor, a prize, or something else, but not a visible person. The only person who maybe sees him is Sister Mary, a charitable woman who takes him in at a low moment. But he can’t live in this hospitality, and ends up leaving.
The narrator finally has to flee for his life, shedding all his old identities and going underground. At the end he makes a commitment to re-emerge as a fully conscious self whose rage is being channelled not simply through violence, but also through his writing of the book. At the same time, there is no conclusive sense as to what identity he will finally take up (though a hint is given in the prologue) nor even how he will survive. This, Ellison seems to be saying, is the situation of the black individual in America, and possibly not even just the black individual but also all those coming up from below.
Tales From the Thousand and One Nights, Various
This classic set of tales contains much that is narratively familiar, from the epic seven journeys of Sindbad the Sailor to the story of Aladdin and the Genies of the Lamp. It also contains much that is difficult to read.
It has some passing similarities to Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales in the structure of interlocking tales (especially in the story of the Hunchback and of the Porter and the Three Girls of Baghdad), and in the surprising bawdiness of the stories. There is much description of assault and infidelity and beautiful scheming women and dangerous slaves and even more dangerous Jinni.
Slavery is a given in these stories, as it was in the society that produced the stories, but I was saddened at how there was special scorn and suspicion heaped upon black slaves in particular.
The tales aren’t morality plays, at least so far as I understand that genre. They are comic stories, meant to dazzle with the depiction of wealth and grandeur (this got quite repetitive), titillate with the description of beauty and sex and debauchery, and entertain with tales of calamity and ruin. One such tale - short and designed to be humorous - ends abruptly with the castration of a slave. Ha Ha.
I didn’t love this book, but I did enjoy the Sindbad stories, and the tale of the Historic Fart was pretty great. And I suspect they give a relatively accurate account of Middle Eastern life and common worldviews during their time setting (which is a fairly long scope). They can't be judged based on today's morality of course, and they are the basis for many of the stories we still consume today.
Their Eyes Were Watching God, Zora Neale Hurston
Hurston created and offered such a gift with the writing of this novel. It tells the story of a Janie, a black woman born just after the end of slavery in the South, who longs to see love bloom like the blossoms of a tree. But all those around her have set notions of what the life of a black woman ought to be, from her Grandmother who raised her; to the older man to whom she was given in young marriage; to the up-and-coming Jody Starks with whom she runs off and who intends to be a Big Man in a new, black town; to the townspeople who respected Mayor Starks but did not or could not see Janie as her own person.
Love finally begins to bloom when Tea Cake, a younger, poorer man whisks the widow Janie off her feet - much to the scandal and consternation of the town - and takes her down to the Everglades - "the muck" - to live simpler life of hard work and hard play.
What is so unique about this story is its double perspective: about Janie, and from Janie's point of view. The language changes to deep colloquialism when the perspective is Janie's and a narrative is offered that has been hugely overlooked (at least in my life, and I suspect in others' as well) - that of the black woman in herself and in her community and in the world.
This is a wonderful book.
The Perfect Nine, by Ngugi Wa Thiong’o
The founding stories of the Gikuyu people of Kenya, told and re-told for millenia, now presented by Kenya’s current preeminent novelist.
These epic tales concern Gikuyu and Mumbi, a married pair whom God - Giver Supreme - drew to the peak of Mount Kenya through incredible hardships and tasks, and who bore the Nine Beautiful Daughters, and then a tenth beautiful daughter to make up the Perfect Nine. The daughters become the mothers of the historic clans of Kenya when 99 suitors from around Africa are drawn to them through dreams and visions of their beauty.
The suitors compete in various tasks to win the sisters, and eventually go on a quest with the sisters to reach the top of the mountain and to steal a healing hair from an ogre. Many of the men are killed in the quest by various dangers, and some turn back and abandon the quest. The obstacles on the quest seem to represent the many ethical challenges one faces in life, and the virtues required to overcome them. Light overcomes darkness, rain overcomes fire, courage over fear, hope over despair and sorrow, wisdom over greed.
My personal favourite is the Ogre That Shat Without Stopping (an under-represented superpower) who could only be defeated with fresh flowers. It is most often the Nine Daughters who overcome the Ogres, and they are very much presented as more than equals in every way to their suitors in these tales.
Legends of Vancouver, E Pauline Johnson (Tekahionwake)
A fascinating book. Almost impossibly, I had never before heard of E. Pauline Johnson, named Tekahionwake according to her Iroquois heritage. She was a writer, poet and performer in the late 19th early 20th century in Canada. Her best known book is this one, the Legends of Vancouver. It is comprised of a series of tales told to her by Squamish Chief Joe Capilano, which she transcribes and to which she adds her own unique flavour.
These stories deal with places in Vancouver which I love, from areas around Stanley Park, Siwash Rock, the treacherous waters off Point Grey, Grouse Mountain, the Two Sisters, and many more. It was thrilling to read of the undergirding stories and teachings of the great Chief, and to receive them through the talented hand of Tekahionwake.
The Invisible Man, HG Wells
Published in 1897, this is one of Wells’ original and unique works of speculative fiction, which formed a great part of the building blocks of science fiction.
The story is of a man who discovers a means by which to make himself invisible, but does not consider the incredible difficulties this would engender when he uses the procedure upon himself. But even more so, it is a story of an egotistical monomaniac who believes himself (and his genius) above the law and the constructs of human morality. Robbery, assault, and eventually murder and terror are all considered fair game because of the difficulties he has put himself in.
The great part of the book is spent in devising how to stop or capture an invisible man, and also, from the other perspective, how to avoid detection even if one is invisible. I have long thought that of all the potential superpowers, invisibility is one that could only really be used for nefarious purposes, and this book very much plays that idea out.
Revelations of Divine Love, Julian of Norwich
The first female-authored book in the English language that we know of, this remarkable book of theology details a number of visions had by Julian, a nun in the town of Norwich in the 14th-15th century.
The version I read included both the first short account of these visions, and then the longer account which came after a number of years reflecting on the transformative things which had been revealed to her. Suffering from a life-threatening illness, and believing she was about to die, Julian saw a vision of Jesus crucified. All other comforts ceased as she saw that Jesus himself would be her only comforter, her only help. And from this place of revelation came Julian’s most famous phrase, a phrase which is repeated again and again from the lips of Jesus in her visions: “All shall be, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.”
I cannot conceive of a more comforting message than the one existing at the heart of Julian’s visions. She was not naive, not trying to be on the right side of history, not wishing in any way to appear out of sync with the Church’s doctrine. But she could not imagine the Jesus who revealed himself to her being in any way overcome or even worried about our sin. Jesus suffered for us out of the greatest possible love, Julian saw, and he holds all things in his hands. We do not need to worry, we do not need to be anxious, our hope is secure in him.
The God of Small Things, Arundhati Roy.
A masterwork, and Roy’s first novel, set amongst the Syrian Christian community in India.
It is a beautiful yet horrifically sad and tragic story of Ammu, her twins, their extended family, and the danger of loving the “wrong” person. The story slowly comes into focus, jumping around in time as it does so. We discover that both Ammu and the twins love a man from the Untouchable caste. This, along with the small-minded vindictiveness of one particular aunt; the caste-focused violence that infects even communities that claim to be above it; and certain other abuses that ruin the innocence of children, leads to the destruction of several lives.
Roy leaves us with the question: was the "forbidden" love worth it, in the end? It is a haunting question, one not asked with an easy answer in mind.
Death Comes for the Archbishop, Willa Cather
What an exquisitely written book, detailing the life and mission of Father Latour, first bishop and then archbishop of New Mexico. The story is not presented romantically, though the physical characteristics of the landscape are dwelt upon to a profound effect. The characters are real human beings, filled with hopes, doubts, frustrations, hypocrisies, failures and triumphs.
Fathers Latour and Vaillant, French priests previously in Ohio, are sent to the new New Mexico territory to organise the massive region for the Catholic Church. Cather, writing in the 1920’s, seems to have had first-hand experience in the area, and also close contemporary knowledge of the challenges and beauties of the work. She writes of the Indigenous and Mexican peoples with great respect and dignity, and shows especially the great sin of the American government in driving the Navajo people off their land.
The characters of the two priests, drawn from real life but also creatively imagined, are durable, earnest, hard-working, occasionally crafty, and deeply curious and loving towards the people they were called to serve. This undoubtedly paints them in a very positive light - though Cather is clear that even in this story they had their deficiencies - and only lightly touches on how the Church was complicit in the theft of land and removal of people. It is not a perfect historical reflection, but it is far more nuanced than one might expect. And the lyricism of the writing, especially in the descriptive passages, is beyond moving.
Frankenstein, Mary Shelley
The grandmother of the science fiction/fantasy/horror genre.
This is my third attempt to read this classic, and the first time I have completed it. I still have the same issues with it - the gothic language used throughout is almost impenetrably flowery and formal. The characters express the most profound and noble sentiments, but they do so with such utter and constant sincerity and poetry that it can be really hard to get through. Maybe Mary Shelly, Percy Shelly, Lord Byron and the other OGs did speak to each other this way in that cabin where they all concocted their horror stories to pass the time.
Language difficulties aside, it truly is a remarkable achievement in speculative fiction, the first of its kind and still capable of evoking horror and deep thought. What is a Creator's responsibility to its creation? And vice versa? Is morality in-built or created by society? Will humanity's rush to play god eventually be our downfall?
The Way of a Pilgrim, Anonymous
Written presumably in the 19th century in Russia, this is the classic first-person account of a wandering peasant seeking to learn the mystery of the inner prayer of the heart. It is simply yet elegantly told, with the pilgrim encountering monks, priests, soldiers, schoolteachers, beggars, robbers, pious families and much more in his urgent quest. Through the use of the Jesus Prayer, and through study of Scripture and the Philocalia, the pilgrim begins to learn the transformative beauty of the inner prayer of the heart. This is a powerful, delightful book that has spurred me on in my own pursuit of the prayer of the heart.
The Prophet, Kahlil Gibran
A gorgeous, strange book, Kahlil Gibran’s masterpiece. It takes the form of a prophet who is leaving the village of Orphalese by ship - by which is presumably meant his death - but who pauses to spend his last day amongst the people answering their final questions.
They ask him about love, freedom, religion, work, family, marriage, pleasure, sorrow, and every other conceivable human concern, and the prophet answers. The wisdom that is evoked through the prophet’s answers is the treasure of this book. “You can only be free when you cease to speak of freedom as a goal and fulfilment…When good is hungry it seeks food even in dark caves…the kindness that gazes upon itself in a mirror turns to stone, and a good deed that calls itself by tender names becomes the parent to a curse.” These and more are profound thoughts, beautifully rendered and crossing all boundaries.
The wisdom is accompanied by Gibran's stunning art, which is reminiscent of Blake.
Anna Karenin, Leo Tolstoy
Considered by many one of the greatest novels of all time. The plot is, in a way, deceptively simple: Anna Karenin is a 19th century Russian aristocrat, beautiful, intelligent and full of life, who betrays her husband and has a child with her lover, Vronsky. Living together in any kind of stable way becomes societally, socially, emotionally and spiritually impossible for Anna and Vronsky, and she eventually commits suicide by jumping in front of a train.
This is the bare plot, but in a sense it is not what the book is about. Many events happen - some to do with Anna, her husband, or her lover; others to do with a relative named Oblonsky and his wife Dolly; and more to do with the young Kitty and her husband Levin, who is a stand-in of sorts for Tolstoy himself - but the events themselves are not the primary interest of Tolstoy. It is the motivation for the characters’ actions, their thoughts, their psychology, their doubts, their internal conflicts, their wrestling with the great questions of the age - land reform, education, the labour issue, religion, the relationship between nobility and peasants, marriage, the role of women - that drives the book forward.
The characters are suffocated within the social mores and etiquette of their time. Much ink is spilled on paying visits, fashion, and propriety. But when real life intrudes - the death of Levin’s brother, or the birth of Kitty and Levin’s child by way of example - those societal elements are revealed as the artifice they are. The playing of politics in particular seems to aggravate Tolstoy, in the guise of Levin. Levin is not stupid, but he cannot understand what these learned nobles are talking about, why they are scheming, what the point is in their great debates, because he is too close to the land itself. He has touched the dirt, and experienced something of the real, both on his farm and through his love for his wife, and he cannot bring himself to care about disincarnate theories.
But even Levin finds himself caught into the gambling, free-spending, drinking and fruitless chatter culture of Moscow, when he is there for an extended period of time. Tolstoy makes it obvious what he thinks of this culture in comparison to the farming life in the country.
This is clearly a masterful work, though it is tough sledding at times, in part because of its vast length, in part because of its attention to 19th century Russian aristocratic concerns and descriptions, and in part because of the depth of interior wrestling happening within the characters. Anna and Vronsky in particular become very unpleasant to spend any time with as their life becomes trapped in crushing ennui. The internal and external recriminations, suspicion, frustration, jealousy and delusion that form the chapters leading up to Anna’s suicide are a study in despair and broken relationship. Anna’s last inner monologue in particular reveals her to be trapped in a hell of negation - she descends to the belief that everyone is flung onto the earth only to suffer and to hate one another, and that love is impossible. She and Vronsky are in a hell of their own devising, for which death seems to be the only escape (though even this is a delusion).
Happily, Tolstoy does not end the book with suicide, but with Levin contemplating the nature of goodness and God. He discovers that "he had been living rightly, but thinking wrongly," and his revelation about good being outside the chain of cause and effect releases him from his existential despair.
Here are the non-fantasy/sci-fi novels - aside from the 14 classics - that I read in 2022.
Saint Julian, Walter Wangerin Jr
Wangerin Jr is such an underrated writer, and this is another spiritual classic in his inimitable style. It is hagiography, properly called, the tale of a saint told not so much with historical fact or context but with an eye towards the lessons of repentance, humility and holiness. Julian, in Wangerin's tale, is the son of a noble father and mother, and himself a prodigious learner and hunter. But his lust for death leads him to the greatest of sins, and a desire for utter self-annihilation. Can there be mercy for one who sees kindness as the fires of hell? The tale is told in order to give the reader an answer in his or her own life. And it is told beautifully.
Medicine River, Thomas King
Medicine River is another exquisite Thomas King novel, really a set of short stories based around the town of Medicine River, the life of Will, and especially the benevolent community-minded interruptions of the unforgettable Harlen Bigbear. King has an ear for humour, but even more importantly he has a way of writing dialogue that is as true to life as any writer I have ever read. Harlen is the beating heart of Medicine River and the nearby reserve, the man who attends all the weddings, funerals, court dates, pow wows, and social events, and tries to grease all the relational wheels. These stories interweave with one another, and are gentle, hilarious, poignant, and real. An absolute gem.
Family Matters, Rohinton Mistry
Mistry is an astonishingly good writer who invites the reader into the intricacies - and often the desperation - of the lives of individuals, families, and communities in modern India. In this book Mistry focuses on the Parsi community in Bombay/Mumbai, and one family in particular that is going through significant struggles. The family has secrets and historical trauma and resentment. The grandfather, Nariman, is suffering from Parkinsons, and is being cared for by his two adopted children in his large apartment. But they do not want the job, and manage to foist him off on his daughter and her family in a cramped apartment. The presence of the grandfather - and especially the financial constraints his treatment creates - brings their family tensions to the surface. But it also creates an opportunity for resiliency and growth. At the heart of the novel is the heart of the Parsi religion - will the members of the family succumb to lies, or will they live in the truth? Both options are incredibly dangerous for different reasons.
Home, Marilynne Robinson
The follow-up novel to Robinson’s magnificent Gilead. It takes place at the same time as that novel, but from a different perspective. While Gilead focused on Reverend Ames and his letters to his young son, Home is from the point of view of Glory, the youngest child of Reverend Boughton. Glory is now nearing 40, her hopes have taken a beating after a deceitful relationship, and she has come home to care for her dying father. The book is a lengthy meditation on what makes a home a home, particularly in a small time like Gilead where every blade of grass seems marked by family memory. When Glory’s brother, Jack, unexpectedly returns home as well, she has to deal with the member of the family who never felt like he could be at home with the family. Jack has been an outsider, troublemaker and beloved and lamented son his entire life. He is trying to make things somewhat right with his father before he passes, but everyone keeps getting in their own way. It is a remarkably honest, vulnerable and tender story about family, sin, and frustrated expectations. Not as soaringly great as Gilead, but a worthy continuation of the story.
The Sympathizer, Viet Thanh Nguyen
A staggering debut novel, from the perspective of a revolutionary mole nestled into the South Vietnamese high command during the War, and after the War as part of the group of Vietnamese refugees living in the USA. Nguyen's style is accessible and effective, dark and humorous. He examines the nature of war, the realities of torture, the hypocrisies of faith and colonialism and revolutions once they gain power, and the treatment of the Other, particularly in America.
The Committed, Viet Thanh Nguyen
Not as good as The Sympathizer, in my estimation, but that book - to which The Committed is a sequel - won the Pulitzer, so it would be tough to equal it. The Committed picks up where the former novel left off, the narrator in the hold of a boat leaving Vietnam, along with his blood brother Bon and a few hundred other refugees, following their horrific stay in the reeducation camp (run by their other blood brother, Man). Once again this book takes the form of a long confession, as the narrator and Bon make their way to France, linking up with a Vietnamese gang to sell drugs. The narrator has a series of misadventures, but of greater interest is his philosophical - and often crazy - musings on his own fractured identity, the nature of colonialism, the revolutionary purpose of violence, and especially his great belief that “Nothing” is sacred. And that phrase does not mean what we think it means. This inner dialogue is the strength of the novel, but also at times the weakness, as it occasionally becomes more of an essay from the voice of Viet Thanh Nguyen, the author. In these moments the points are still made but with less narrative artistry, it seems to me, and one is taken out of the story. Still and all, a worthy follow up to a great novel, and leaves open the possibility of a third story as well.
Here are the books on spiritual formation and prayer I read this year.
I Love Jesus, But I Want to Die: Moving From Surviving to Thriving When You Can’t Go On, Sarah J. Robinson
Such a helpful resource, based in Robinson’s own life story, but also in good theological and pastoral practice, and with excellent counsel around therapy, medical intervention, community, and how to help friends and family in places of despair. For anyone who has walked in these dark places - which includes myself - this is a very life-giving and hopeful book. Really important for all people as well to understand what people are going through and how to offer the best compassion.
The Jesus Prayer: The Ancient Desert Prayer that Tunes the Heart to God, Frederica Mathewes-Green
This is an extraordinarily helpful book. The focus, as per the title, is on the Jesus Prayer: Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me (a sinner). Mathewes-Green does a wonderful job of making this prayer and its ancient practice as accessible as possible, without dumbing it down or watering down its challenge and power. She employs Scripture, sayings of the Desert Fathers and Mothers, contemporary monks and nuns, and her own faltering practice of The Prayer to demonstrate how we may be drawn more deeply into the union with God for which we were created. She does not hesitate to confess where she doesn't understand or hasn't yet experienced something that a spiritual athlete has said about The Prayer, nor does she shrink back from highlighting her own difficulties at keeping her mind, heart and nous focused upon Jesus and His mercy. The book begins with an explanation of terms and some foundational background for The Prayer, and then concludes with a series of questions which Mathewes-Green herself had and which have been addressed to her by others. She answers these questions (to the best of her ability and with the proviso that much of this is mystery and beyond explanation, and even beyond experience outside of full immersion within the Orthodox Church) with grace, patience, humour and love. This is an excellent book on prayer.
The Valley of Vision: A Collection of Puritan Prayers and Devotions, Arthur Bennett
A beautiful, searching, powerful collection of prayers. Filled with love, worship, honesty, vulnerability, repentance, and hope in the saving power and grace of the LORD. These one page prayers are accessible, though some will find the language and especially some of the ideas unfamiliar.
May It Be So, Forty Days with the Lord’s Prayer, Justin McRoberts and Scott Erickson
A very simple guide to 40 days of prayer. Each day holds a single phrase and a picture, designed to sit with you throughout the day. Then each week roughly there is a longer meditation, drawn from the author's life, that relates to a phrase in the Lord's Prayer. It is a helpful, grounding book, and I would often be drawn back to the day's prayer more than once during the day.
Prayer in the Night, For Those Who Work, or Watch, or Weep, Tish Harrison Warren
A helpful and well-written exploration of Compline, the ancient Christian prayer at night. Warren weaves the various elements of prayer through experiences in her own life as well as Biblical reflections, and makes the case for letting the church help you pray through the established liturgy. A very good book to give someone who is looking for ways into prayer.
How to Hear God: a simple guide for normal people, Pete Greig
This is a follow-up to Pete’s other book, How to Pray. This offering is based upon the story of Jesus, following his crucifixion and resurrection, walking and talking with the two travellers on the road to Emmaus. Pete uses the story - as well as a raft of stories both historical and personal - to gently and simply teach his readers how they might hear the voice of the living God through Scripture, whisper, culture, and more. This is a well-written, helpful book on an important topic, and I will be passing it on right away to a friend of mine who is a new believer in Jesus.
Thoughts in Solitude, Thomas Merton
It is always a pleasure and a challenge to interact with Merton’s thoughts on anything, and especially on prayer and solitude. Merton confronts the reader - and himself - with the opportunity of the kind of solitude that has let everything else fall away. There is no false comfort permitted here, but that is not because Merton is mean. It is because he sees that our true riches come from poverty, our true relationship comes from solitude, our true hope comes from the despair of being able to hope in nothing other than Hope.
Becoming Rooted: One Hundred Days of Reconnecting with Sacred Earth, Randy Woodley
There is wisdom here which is helpful, an appreciation for the interrelatedness of the world, the goodness of Creator, and the importance of the Indigenous worldview. Each day contains a challenge to live in greater balance with creation, to walk softly, to be kind, to honour neighbours and the natural world.
Riding With the Lion, Kyriacos Markides
The parts of this book where Markides spends time on Mt Athos, explores Orthodox Christianity and especially the Jesus Prayer, were interesting to me. But he seemed most interested in finding a common base for ESP activities and other paranormal phenomena. That is fine, and not uninteresting, but I feel like because of this he actually seemed to miss the living heart of the Athonite experience, which is not the phenomena themselves, but the person of Christ with whom people are being united.
Notes on Grief, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
A brief but powerful reflection on grief following the sudden death of her father, by one of my favourite authors, Adichie. Her story is raw and helpful, and specific to her situation. Her grief is not mine, I realise, as I read this book during the time of my own father’s journey towards death. Her story encompasses much, and there are great overlaps in our experience, but my perception of death is far more shaped by the faith I share with my father. Still, this is a very helpful meditation on the most human of experiences.
Teaching a Stone to Talk, Annie Dillard
I try to read everything I can get my hands on by Dillard. She has an inimitable way of making the ordinary sublime, of deftly painting with words the ascent of a child on a bike up a hill; or the advance of the shadow of a full eclipse; or the difficulties of putting on boots over frostbitten toes. My favourite essay in this collection is called “An Expedition to the Pole,” in which she compares and contrasts - often laugh-out-loud hilariously - the travails of the old Arctic expeditions with our ridiculous adventures in Church. We are absurdly attempting the unwise, being drawn like moths to the geographical and spiritual Poles of Relative Inaccessibility. Does God look on us and laugh? Is He patient with our buffoonery? Isn’t that part of the essential humanness of the whole endeavour?
Release the Power of Prayer, George Muller
A very helpful and faith-building book about the constancy and efficacy of prayer in the life and work of George Muller. I was challenged and encouraged to go deeper into faith and hope, for the glory of God and the love of God's children.
The Nativity Art Project, Bear Barnetson
I am SO excited to see this project come to fruition. It is a series of art pieces, prayers and reflections by Bear Barnetson, Nadleh Whut’en, Dakelh Nation, Dunt’emyoo BEAR Clan. The pieces represent a contextualisation of the nativity story into, or alongside, Indigenous stories. It is beautiful, challenging, prayerful, hopeful, gracious, profound. I recommend it to all.
Common Prayer: A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals, Shane Claiborne, Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove, Enuma Okoro
We pray through this book annually, around our table, in the Park, and at Jacob's Well. It is a constant source of challenge and comfort.
To Bless the Space Between Us, John O’Donohue
There is a blessing/poem in here appropriate to so many of life's moments. I used this book this year in the times of death and grief; in joy; in new beginnings; for work; in the midst of anxiety; for broken relationships; for hope against hopelessness.
Orthodox Christian Prayers, Priest John Mikitish and Hieromonk Herman
An Orthodox priest friend of mine gifted me this beautiful book, a guide through the daily and occasional prayers in the Orthodox tradition. I have used them as a prayer guide in the morning and evening; as a way of praising God through the various Akathists; and in times of doubt, joy and struggle. So rich, practical and helpful.
Here are the sci-fi/fantasy books I read this year.
The City We Became, N.K. Jemisin
I am a big fan of the fantasy writing of N.K. Jemisin, and really looked forward to this one in particular because of the short story that serves as its prologue from How Long Until Black Future Month? And, I did like this book well enough, but I did not like it as well as I had hoped. It is the story of New York City waking up. Cities have been waking up for millenia, but as they awake there is an Enemy waiting to destroy/eat them. The emerging cities therefore choose an avatar or champion to fight for them, in this case a young, gay, homeless black man. He is coached in this work by the avatar of Sao Paolo, and he successfully wins his first battle against the Enemy. But something goes wrong. New York is not really one city but five: Brooklyn, Manhattan, the Bronx, Queens and Staten Island. New York's avatar is wounded in the battle, and the Enemy isn't completely defeated, so the five boroughs begin choosing their champions to come to his aid. The story centres around their emergence, their need to discover each other, and the race against time to find the primary and to fight off the intruder. So far, so good. I really like this kind of fiction, similar to Gaiman's Neverwhere in concept, where there are deeper realities hidden underneath our daily perception. And at its best the avatars of the boroughs represent their uniqueness well. Jemisin is a truly engaging writer, and I love that she draws her characters and mythology from groups not normally highlighted in traditional fantasy literature. Usually this is done with great subtlety and nuance, and Jemisin is adept at making her point without hitting anyone over the head with a hammer. Not so much in this book, though. The arch-villain is literally named The Woman in White, and everything about her is aggressively, well, white. Perhaps a little on the nose. And the sub-villain, the one borough who will not cooperate, is the repressed Irish-descent daughter of a cop from Staten Island. Thus far in the series (it will apparently be a trilogy), the primary danger to New York appears to be “conservatives” from Staten Island. And all of this would be fine (maybe not if you hail from Staten Island, and perhaps some of the characterization there might be considered a little cliched) if it didn't come across quite as preachy as it does. There is a heavy note of, "You won't fully get this if you aren't from New York, but you also won't get it if you aren't part of cool New York. (And Staten Island isn't)." I'm sure there are inner NY power dynamics that I am utterly ignorant of, so maybe this is just how it is. Maybe friendless, overlooked Staten Island really does just want the rest of New York city to go away/die, and is prepared to sell its soul to a literal incarnation of a racist Lovecraftian city-eater in order to make that happen. I surely don't know. But it all seems a little simplistic and moralizing to me. Maybe the rest of the trilogy will provide greater depth and nuance, and I am enough of a Jemisin fan to wait to see how it turns out.
The Back of the Turtle, Thomas King
What a great story! Thomas King's writing seems effortless (I am sure it is not), and he weaves his stories together with deft humour, deep emotion, an awareness of the villainy of the world, but also hope and possibility. This book is a re-telling, of sorts, of various Creation myths, most notably The Woman Who Fell From the Sky, and Genesis. A coastal town and reserve in BC have been devastated by The Ruin, an environmental destruction wreaked by a Canadian company called Domidion. It was formerly something of an imperfect Eden, and home to a number of turtles who laid their eggs on the beach. But since The Ruin most people have died or moved away, and the flora and fauna are also gone. We follow Dorian Asher, Domidion's CEO, as he wrestles with existential crisis, marital failings, and his corporate villainy; Gabriel Quinn, Domidion's former top scientist and the man responsible for the destruction, who travels to Samaritan Bay to commit suicide; Mara, the last remaining member of the reserve; and three unforgettable characters - Sonny, a boy who collects salvage and tries to follow his absent Father's many rules (and likely represents The Son); Crisp, a red bearded man who speaks in poetry and myth and is probably meant to represent The Holy Spirit; and Soldier, a very intelligent dog. The story is a stinging indictment of environmental corporate malfeasance and science for profit, but also manages to allow us to see all the characters as flawed humans. And hope sits right in the middle.
Remote Control, Nnedi Okorafor
An intricately told story of a young girl, Fatima, in Ghana who writes “sky words” under a Shea nut tree, and draws down a green glowing seed. This seed, once it comes back up out of the ground, changes Fatima. When threatened she glows green and burns up anyone around her. She also kills any technology she touches. When this leads to the death of everyone in her village, and the loss of the memory of her own name, the young girl, now thinking of herself as Sankofa, takes to the road. She becomes known throughout the villages of Ghana as a harbinger of death, one who can kill, but who only does so to ease people’s passing. The seed had been stolen from her early on, and it is the pursuit of this which now drives her to continue journeying for years. The writing is beautiful, the story evocative. There is hidden within it a critique of corporate (and especially American) experimentation on Africans, as well as the pervasive dangers of technology spying on people. Okorafor is an author I will certainly read again.
Moon Over Soho, Ben Aaronovitch
I have already read the rest of the Rivers of London series. For some reason this one was the hardest to find, and it was frustrating because the later books make lots of references to it. So, I'm glad I found it, and it is really good, one of my favourites in the series. Peter Grant is still a fledging copper and apprentice wizard, and in this book he encounters jazz vampires, chimera cat people, a talking head, and the Faceless Man for the first time. One of the best things about this book and series is the detail to which Aaronovitch goes in describing the police procedure, as well as other things like London history and architecture, and jazz musicians and standards. This description of the "mundane" provides a setting for the fantastical that makes it feel like one more piece of the pie, rather than the whole dessert. It's a clever trick done well, and I think it is probably the thing that keeps bringing me back to Rivers. That and the nearly Pratchett-esque sense of humour.
An Orc on the Wild Side, Tom Holt
I like Tom Holt, he is funny and inventive and inhabits some of the rarified air breathed primarily by the likes of Terry Pratchett, Christopher Moore, and Neil Gaiman (and increasingly Ben Aaronovitch). But I guess I am always wanting just a little bit more in his novels, partly because I am comparing him to the above authors. He doesn't carry the same level of either humour or depth of meaning that the others manage to achieve, so I am always left a little unsatisfied. Still and all this is a worthy and fun little piece of satire. It's at its best when satirising fantasy tropes, at its worst when trying to wrestle in some current news items.
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, JK Rowling
I read this to Gabe for his Christmas present, with all the voices. It is wonderful going into this world again with new listeners.
Anansi Boys, Neil Gaiman
I have read this before, but couldn’t resist reading it again. Sort of a companion piece to American Gods, but less crude and less epic, the story follows the son(s) of Anansi, the spider god of Africa and the Islands, to whom all stories and songs belong. Anansi has died, and now Fat Charlie has to deal with the family legacy, including his “brother”, Spider. Everything in Charlie’s life gets ruined, but that’s ok because it really wasn’t all that great. Wonderful writing and clever story-telling, as with all of Gaiman’s offerings.
The Fifth Season, N.K. Jemisin
What an incredible story and start to a trilogy from one of my favourite new fantasy writers, Jemisin. Jemisin is gifted at creating new worlds that don’t rely upon mediaeval European history or tropes. In this story she posits a world that is split and cracked with fault lines, which result in world-changing volcanos, earthquakes and tsunamis. Every hundred or thousand years a large enough such event occurs that a Fifth Season results - all the normal ways of life get suspended and humanity focuses on survival, using the stone lore that has been passed down through their hardy civilisation. Within this world are certain individuals called orogenes - roggas as a curse word. They have the ability to still the shakes and to use the movement of the earth, or the energy of living things around them, to build or destroy. But they are universally feared in the Sanzed Empire, and controlled by a group called Guardians. They are essentially slaves and tools of the Empire, but there are some who would change the situation. This story focuses on one such orogene, the loss of her children, and her strange relationship to the stone-eaters - a non-human species whose intentions are very unclear. I will certainly be reading the rest of this series.
Noor, Nnedi Okorafor
Another really interesting exploration of speculation, technology and social critique set in a future Nigeria. AO is a young woman who has several cybernetic and physical implants - including both her legs and one arm - that stemmed from her physical deformities at birth and from a later car accident. The upgrades from Ultimate Corp, the massive corporation that employs and essentially runs most of Nigeria. Ultimate Corp’s power is based on the generation of wind power, culled from the Noor stations that surrounded the Red Eye - the giant unending tornado of sand in the north of Nigeria. AO encounters regional prejudice against her implants, but never if the violent sort until the events at the beginning of the novel. Her response to this makes her a fugitive, and she bumps into another fugitive (named DNA) who is a nomadic Fulani tribesman accused of being a terrorist. Together they have to elude the government and the Ultimate Corp, and figure out AO’s strange new abilities. It is a very good idea and includes some very cogent observations of the damage energy sourcing and control does not just to countries like Nigeria, but to minority people groups and traditional ways of life within those countries. The narrative is a little choppy, and the characters don’t develop quite as much as they could have, I think. More could definitely be done with this premise.
Amongst Our Weapons, Ben Aaronovitch
The ninth book in Aaronovitch’s Rivers of London series, featuring Peter Grant as a Met London Police Officer and apprentice wizard. It sounds ridiculous, and it is, but it is also wonderful writing and incredibly satisfying mystery, police procedural, and Gaiman-esque demi-monde chicanery. In this one Grant has to deal with an Inquisition-inspired Angel of Death, magic rings, fox spies, and the impending birth of twins by his river goddess wife, Beverly.
The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, Suzanne Collins
I am a big fan of The Hunger Game series, believing that it does a masterful job of presenting the realities of Empire and its secondary and tertiary realms through the YA medium. It also does not shrink back from displaying the horrors of war.
This prequel, which follows the adolescence of Corolianus Snow, future president of Panem and main antagonist to Katniss Everdeen in the original trilogy, starts off really well. It is not long after the end of the initial war of the Districts against the Capitol, and the venerated Snow family has fallen on hard times. Snow is desperate to keep up appearances and secure a scholarship to the Capitol University, but the family is impoverished and his prospects are dim. Yet he is given hope through a new wrinkle added to the 10th Hunger Games - each District tribute would be sponsored and mentored by a Capitol student, and Snow draws the female tribute from District 12 - Lucy Gray Baird. What follows is an interesting and well-written account of a far less sophisticated Hunger Games, which Snow tries to help his tribute win even while he slowly falls in love with her. This is the best part of the book.
Once the Hunger Games finish, and Snow's cheating is discovered, he is forced to become a Peacekeeper and is assigned to District 12. Here is where the book really begins to flag, in my opinion. There is intrigue, some romance, some treachery, but it feels very worn out after the events in the Capitol. And ultimately the main character in the book is someone that is impossible to root for. He is confused and hurting, but also calculating and despicable, and you only ever get to hear his internal dialogue. Lucy Gray would have been a far more interesting character to follow, but she is left largely mysterious (with some hints that she may be Katniss Everdeen's grandmother). And a lot of the territory covered in this book was already covered in the trilogy. So it was an ok read, but not as great as The Hunger Games.
Kindred, Octavia Butler:
A really fascinating book. Dana, the protagonist, is a black woman in the 1970's married to a white man. As they move into their new home together, she passes out, and when she wakes up she is somewhere else. She finds herself needing to come to the rescue of a white child drowning in a river. Once she saves him, and has her life threatened by the boy's father for doing so, she returns to her own time. Over the course of several of these events she realises that she is being called back by this child - who gradually gets older even though time doesn't pass much for Dana - to the early 1800's in Maryland. Evert time she is called back she has to save Rufus' life, but she cannot get back to her own time unless she feels her life is genuinely in danger. As a result she gets stuck in antebellum Maryland for months at a time, and the only way to survive is to be a slave. It is a tricky premise, to be sure, but it works because Butler makes the characters real and human. They aren't just noble or evil types, they have actual emotions and histories, complex convictions and cultural upbringings that make their choices real and difficult. I will be reading a lot more of Butler in the future.
The Ultimate Discworld Companion, Pratchett, Briggs, Kidby:
So much fun revisiting the Discworld and enjoying its unique brand of humour. The writing and illustrations in this companion are first rate, very much of the Terry Pratchett style. Made me want to re-read all the books again.
The Shadowed Sun, N.K. Jemisin:
The second book of The Dreamblood Trilogy, this story follows Hananji, the first female member of the Hetawa, the priestly caste in Gujaareh who oversee the keeping of peace, healing, judgement, and the dream world. Their magic is based upon various dream humours which allow the Sharers to heal and the Gathers to kill those deemed corrupt. Above all, the Hetawa honour their Goddess (represented by the Moon) with a dedication to peace. However, at the end of the first book the city-state of Gujaareh had fallen to Kisua, a neighbouring country that does not share their religion, nor their prohibition on violence or slavery. The son of the former ruler of Gujaareh - a ruler who had gone somewhat insane in his desire to achieve immortality - is now living in exile amongst the Banbarra, a tribal people in the wilderness who are deciding whether or not to assist him in freeing his people from the Kisua and restoring him to the throne. This is all the context for the story, which plays itself out primarily within Hananji, the Sharer-Apprentice who is also sent to live with the Banbarra to strengthen the allegiance and possible revolution. She has to wrestle with the keeping of peace amongst war-like people, as well as her own questions around what it means to be a woman. There are some very shocking things described in this book, with a particular emphasis on the relationship between fathers and daughters, and the destruction or healing that may be wrought from it. A very readable and well-developed fantasy world, which I look forward to concluding.
Future Home of the Living God, Louise Erdrich:
Erdrich, a Turtle Mountain Chippewa writer, has created a terrifying yet gracious and compassionate near-future scenario in which evolution stops and begins reversing itself. Once society collapses and the government falls, various groups (including the US Postal Service backed by the military) try to wrest control. The most vulnerable group are women, and especially pregnant women, as it is discovered that the babies they are carrying are genetic throwbacks. Women are required to present themselves to hospitals/detention centres where their pregnancies can be properly monitored. This is the backdrop to the story, which is formed by journal entries from Cedar, an Ojibwe young woman who was adopted by a white Minnesotan couple as a baby. Cedar is newly pregnant and is writing about her experiences to her unborn baby - meeting her birth mother on their reserve; reconciling with the baby’s father; the anxiety and preparations around her pregnancy; trying to evade detection and capture. It has the feel at times of A Handmaid’s Tale, or Children of Men (inevitable given the subject matter) but it is also very much its own book. In particular, Cedar, a newly devout Catholic, has quite a lot to say about Mary, the Immaculate Conception, the Incarnation, and Saint Kateri Tekakwitha (who is visiting her reserve) and Hildegard of Bingen. This book is sad, funny, scary and kind. My only wish is that the ending wasn’t quite so abrupt - we don’t get any resolution around either set of her parents, and everything is still very unclear around the future at the end. I would like to know more, but this also doesn’t seem like the kind of book that will elicit a sequel. I will certainly be reading more Erdrich however, as she is a stellar writer.
Here are the Theological books I read in 2022:
God Has a Name, John Mark Comer
Written in a popular style, but still carrying some very profound theology, this is an excellent book addressing the name of Yahweh that was revealed in the Exodus. Comer goes through each of the clauses in Exodus 34:6-7 - including the troubling ones - to show how knowing the good, good name of God is a good, good thing. Very helpfully draws out the meaning of “other gods” and Yahweh’s victory over them through Jesus on the cross, and gives clarity around the seeming tension between mercy and justice at the heart of Yahweh’s character.
Set Them Free: The Other Side of Exodus, Laurel Dykstra
A remarkable approach to the Exodus that compels Western readers to see themselves not in the story of Israel, the liberated, but rather of Egypt, the oppressor. Deals powerfully with the thorny issues of violence (including God's violence), conquest, and the notable lack of women in the story, all the while connecting careful biblical scholarship with a deep awareness of oppression and empire in our current world. This work will disturb some, for sure, but it is worth reading even if you disagree with Dykstra's conclusions for the challenge she brings and the conviction she offers.
The Divine Milieu, Pierre Teilhard de Chardin
A remarkable work of theology, philosophy and scientific inquiry. de Chardin explores the divinization of both our active lives and our passivities, the work we do and the work done upon us, even through our limitations and faults. God is at work in all of it, and we should not fear the work of human progress. In fact, it is exactly in that place that we can put great hope, for the divine milieu is working itself out in all things in this way.
I was particularly struck by this thought while reading this master work: Death to self, here and now, is a tilling of the ground of our being. It is not the full thing but it is a necessary thing, so that the true death of the seed of our selves may have good soil in which to grow, The soil/self is turned over, the weeds are pulled, the rats displaced, the ground made ready for that great and glorious day when we are truly made new.
But God in Christ (and we in Christ and Christ in the Father and Christ in us by His Spirit) is already growing in us, and in the world. He is already uniting Himself to us. This too is preparation, and this is where all analogies ultimately fail. The best analogy is "seed", which carries already all the DNA required to produce what it has been created to be, but must first be sown and die and be fully immersed in the soil before it can manifest itself.
So whatever union with God is available to us now, and it is available, there is a much deeper union that is coming (epektasis). And while it includes us personally, and does not obscure or destroy us as persons, it also includes everyone and everything else, transformed into the likeness of Christ. And we begin to live this out and propagate it through personal purity, faith and fidelity, and through communal charity.
Dominion and Dynasty: A Theology of the Hebrew Bible, Stephen G. Dempster
A helpful book of theology that views the Hebrew Scriptures through the lens of the recurring concepts of dominion and dynasty, essentially the universal covenant of humanity, and the dynastic covenants of Abram and later David. I used this book to help pad out my study of various OT texts this year.
The Non-Orthodox: The Orthodox Teaching on Christians Outside of the Church, Patrick Barnes
This brief but weighty book deals with an issue of great interest to me. I am profoundly impacted by Orthodox theology, liturgy, and prayer. I am unsure about Orthodox ecclesiology, particularly from some who make the claim that everyone outside of Orthodoxy are not truly Christians and cannot be saved. So, I am not “within” the Orthodox Church, yet I understand that Orthodoxy believes salvation (union with Christ) can only come from inside the Body of Christ, which is exclusively the Orthodox Church (at least in this life). Barnes sets out the question and gives the Orthodox answer, at least according to his lights and through the teachings of many Orthodox Fathers and Mothers. The book is balanced and careful, fairly dismissive of the heresies of the ecumenical movement within Orthodoxy, and certainly seeking to draw all people into union with Christ inside Orthodoxy.
The Mystical Theology of the Eastern Church, Vladimir Lossky
An extraordinarily powerful and illuminating book of Eastern Orthodox mystical theology, detailing the way the Eastern (original) version of the Nicene-Constantinople Creed - without the filioque clause - and the centrality of apophatic theology, theosis, and contemplation over concepts have led to a different understanding of the unknowable Trinity, deification, ecclesiology and mysticism as theology than has developed in the West. Lossky does not tell the entire story of course, and he tends to focus in on certain specific figures as his reference points - notably the Cappadocians, Maximos the Confessor, St Gregory Palamas, Isaac the Syrian, and a few others - so I will be careful to hold it all with humility and a desire to know more. That said, this admittedly heavy book is very useful in opening the doors to Orthodox mystical thought and prayer.
Still Time to Care: What We Can Learn from the Church’s Failed Attempt to Cure Homosexuality, Greg Johnson:
A helpful forensic analysis of how the Exodus movement started, where it failed, and how it went so far wrong; what the Evangelical approach was before the ex-gay movement; and where things could go from here.
The Mission of God, Christopher Wright
Prophecy in Early Christianity and the Ancient Mediterranean World, Aune
Ephesians: The Wonder and Walk of Being Alive in Christ, Darrell Johnson
A steady and inspiring walk through the book of Ephesians, based upon a series of sermons Darrell Johnson has given during his years as a pastor. The scholarship is sound, the voice is authentic, and the presentation is compelling. Johnson loves the Word, and especially loves this “realer reality”, this alternative reality that is found in Christ in the heavenly places, but is lived out in the daily stuff of earth. Highly recommended.
Theological Territories, David Bentley Hart
A magnificent, challenging, convicting, humorously cranky and vocabulary-expanding series of essays. DBH covers a wide swath of topics, from book reviews on Capital Punishment; to reflections on Dostoevsky's devastating approach to the problem of evil; to the question of consciousness versus a mechanistic universe; to the present and future of Orthodoxy in America; to a long section dealing with Hart's translation choices for his New Testament. Hart does not suffer fools gladly, and is at his snarky best when taking on and taking down logical, theological, scientific and linguistic absurdities. His portrayal of the Gospel is at once terrifying in its strangeness to modern ears, and liberating in its fierce and unyielding affirmation in the ultimate salvation from the flesh, the world and the devil(s) wrought in and by Jesus. My favourite essay is probably called "A Prayer for the Poor," in which Hart examines the Lord's Prayer as a prayer that only makes sense on the lips and from the heart of the poor and oppressed.
Ladder of Angels: Stories from the Bible Illustrated by Children of the World, Madeleine L’Engle:
Children's drawings often threaten to become immersed in cutesy sentimentality, but in this book they are not, especially when paired with L'Engle's commentary on the Old Testament texts. This is a family-appropriate work (well, as appropriate as the Biblical text can be, dealing as it does with sex and death and God) that does not condescend but rather challenges.
Here are the non-fiction books I read this year. Some very, very helpful books here.
Breathe: A Life in Flow, Rickson Gracie
The autobiography of Rickson Gracie, the Gracie family champion and universally acknowledged to be the greatest Brazilian Jiu Jitsu practitioner of all time. He tells the story of his father Helio and uncle Carlos who founded the Gracie family BJJ practice (along with a laser focus on diet, philosophy, and bizarre marital and child-rearing ideas), and what life was like in Brazil during the 60’s and 70’s. Rickson became the family champion by beating an older brother/cousin (the family dynamics were very strange) and then proceeded to win every fight he was in afterwards, whether sanctioned or non, street fights, sambo, Vale Tude, MMA, Jiu jitsu, and anything else that was thrown his way. He describes BJJ not simply as a martial art but as a way of life, a way to help you become calm in the midst of discomfort. His story is compelling, but also tragic. It appears he is now in a very good place and has much to teach the world.
Becoming Neighbours, Five Values for a World of Welcome, Anika Bauman
A beautiful, simple set of reflections around the five "values" of the Kinbrace community in East Vancouver, which is BC's longest-serving dedicated housing provider for refugee claimants. The "values" are Welcome, Trust, Mutual Transformation, Celebration and Prayer. Bauman's description of this community in which she lived echoes many of my experiences with displaced people, and the beauty, pain, and mutual blessing of a life in a welcoming community. It is wonderfully written and gently illustrated.
Furiously Funny: Comic Rage from Ralph Ellison to Chris Rock, Terrance T. Tucker
This is a scholarly work exploring the use of comic rage in the subversion of white supremacy. It isn’t meant to be funny, and it isn’t, but it’s not always the easiest to read either. I did learn a great deal though, especially about Ralph Ellison and Invisible Man, one of the classics I read earlier this year.
How to Eat, Thich Nhat Hanh
A beautiful and helpful little book of counsel on how to eat well, by the Zen Buddhist monk, Thich Nhat Hanh. It is a book about mindful eating, how to be present when you choose food, make food, prepare the table, eat, and wash up afterwards. It is about learning compassion for yourself, for those you eat with, for those who grew and transported and prepared the food, and for all of creation. Most of what Hanh says I agree with, though I am still far from practising with any regularity. Much of it has to do with being fully aware of the food we are eating, rather than eating with our minds racing with thought, worry, plans, or anything else. I am convinced that if we all ate in this way the world would be a better, kinder, gentler place.
Vancouver Working Class and Labour History
A book produced to outline the history of the labour movement in and around Vancouver.
That is All, John Hodgman
Hodgman’s books are so weird, so nerdily funny. I have read the whole trilogy, and the quirkiness really knows no bounds. A lot of people wouldn’t dig them but I appreciate a nice descent into absurdity.
Quit Like a Woman, The Radical Choice to Not Drink in a Culture Obsessed with Alcohol, Holly Whitaker
There is so much that is helpful and wonderful in this book. The basic premise comes from Whitaker’s life story, a woman caught up in alcohol addiction for much of her life, breaking free, and then realising what is wrong with both the society that promotes alcohol and the recovery modalities that were not designed with those who have historically lacked power in mind. This book is at its best when it does a ruthless take down of the alcohol industry and the lies perpetuated to make people ok with ingesting poison. The last chapter is also fantastic, as Whitaker addresses addiction/recovery within the context of a much larger societal dislocation. She also has a ton of great advice on how to approach recovery as a woman, which does not look the same as it does for a man. For instance, AA encourages men (who it was created for) to recognise that they are not God, and to surrender their power. Most women, Whitaker argues, have already been conditioned to understand they are not God and to surrender and surrender and surrender - what may be needed, instead, is to claim one’s power if power has always been denied. Now, I am not so hard on AA as Whitaker is. I have seen too many people benefit from it, women included. That said, probably 80% of the people I have experienced going through AA have been men, and I have a lot to learn about how the program will be experienced by other people. Whitaker offers life-saving counsel when she tells people to own their own recovery and to try everything and anything that works - we aren’t all going to fit in one box. I wasn’t always sure about her suggestions for how to recover best - they start to feel a little prescriptive (in spite of the above excellent counsel) - and at times seem like an advertisement for lavender essential oils, yoga, and mindfulness apps. On that note, many of the suggested practices would be inaccessible to many of the poorest people I know who are going through recovery, which seems like a weakness in the book, especially given the main premise. And there are a few sweeping statements made which feel unhelpful - the frank assertion that we all have “masculine” and “feminine” energies in us, and that masculine energy is destructive while feminine energy is life-giving and nurturing - just seems unsupported and reductionist at best. However, these are quibbles. The book is really helpful, well-written, and life-giving. (Maybe not for you if you can’t handle swear words and frank discussions of sex).
The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind and Body in the Healing of Trauma, Bessel van der Kolk
One of the most important books I have read. van der Kolk takes on a journey through the effects of trauma on the body and mind, drawing from his extensive engagement with veterans and abused children. Everything he writes here makes sense to me and checks out based on my work with people in addictions. Prescription drugs and talk therapy can be really, really helpful, but they are not the sole answer, particularly when people are not at home in their own bodies as a result of trauma. Happily, van der Kolk also offers a number of treatments which really do help people in this place, and I sincerely hope these are explored more and more within our medical system.
The Heartbeat of Trees: Embracing Our Ancient Bond with Forests and Nature, Peter Wohlleben
Last year I watched Wohlleben's documentary, The Hidden Life of Trees, and was very moved. This book contains equally moving information about forests and trees and our connection to them. When Wohlleben is talking about the life of trees he is fascinating, and when he speaks of the need to preserve old growth forests and not just plantations, he is convincing. It is when Wohlleben starts veering into areas like philosophy and spirituality - topics about which he is self-admittedly ill-informed, - that I lose interest. Still and all, this is a helpful book that hopefully will cause people to view trees with the respect, admiration, and indeed gratitude that they are due.
Inside Out: First Nations on the Front Line, Theresa Tait - Wee’hal Lite, Wetsuweten Nation, Guun-Bay Yah - House of Fire
This brief work tells the story of a First Nations woman working on the inside of Canada’s attempts to entrench self-government into the constitution in th 1990’s. She reflects on how she still faces confusion, prejudice, patronising, and the pressure to conform every single day. She worries that she is only seen as a token, that she is not really heard or seen. It is a work that is just as relevant today as it was in the 90’s.
The Hidden Life of Trees: What They Feel, How They Communicate, Discoveries from a Secret World, Peter Wohlleben
Wohlleben’s first book, and his best I think. This is a love letter to trees and forests. He unfailingly talks about trees with the view that they are alive, making decisions, feeling things, cooperating, communicating, and having desires. It borders on anthropomorphizing, of course, but that is kind of the point. Wohlleben is trying to break down the distinctions we make between the animal and vegetable worlds, so that we might begin to think about trees and forests not simply in the light of what we want and need from them, but with regards to what they might want and need. Trees are not just objects for us to exploit, and treating them as such also does not serve us well in the long-term. Reading this book has certainly changed the way I think about trees and the way I interact with them.
Hope in Addiction, Andy Partington
This is an urgent book. Andy Partington presents a well-researched and compelling case for the complex roots of addiction that steers us away from a simplistic medical or moral model. He helps us understand the contributions of early childhood trauma, despair, disconnection, isolation, yearning, and broken relationships in the volatile mix that lead us towards these surrogate yet destructive comforts, be they drugs, alcohol or lifestyle addictions. He further details how the biological apparatus of addiction can keep people trapped in this hellish, enslaved place. But addiction is not just an individual issue: it encompasses families, communities, generations, even whole cultures. Thankfully, this book does not leave us floundering in a hopeless state. Recovery is possible. But recovery takes comprehensive work, patience, policy changes, and supportive communities. The Church can and should help in this kind of work, but it must also do more. Jesus offers life in abundance, hope against despair, and a spiritual transformation from the inside out. The Church is meant to be witness to this message, the actual good news of liberation from the things that enslave us, by the power of the Holy Spirit. Partington works through some practicalities of what Churches can do, while acknowledging that each community’s response needs to be locally contextualised. But he does not shy away from insisting that what addicts need - what we all need - is spiritual community that draws us deeply into intimacy with God and one another. Shallow solutions are simply not sufficient. This is a challenge we need to hear and act on, for the love of God and his beloved children.
The Book of Hygge: The Danish Art of Contentment, Comfort and Connection, Louisa Thomsen Brits
It read to me as if the Smurfs had written a book, but instead of substituting everything with the word "Smurf" they used the word "hygge". Hygge, apparently, can be just about anything, according to this book. Which is fine, but it seems like an attempt at spiritual contentment achieved by, well, general feelings of warmth and togetherness. I just didn't buy it. There were a number of good quotes scattered throughout the book - the reason I did not give it one star - but I suspect Simone Weil and Soren Kierkegaard might have been quite upset at the use of their words in this context. I don't believe they would have agreed with the contents of this book at all.
Hope on a Tightrope, Cornel West
Written in 2008, when hope still seemed high in the light of Obama’s Democratic nomination. But West is no fool - he was aware that wishing and hoping was not enough. “You have the audacity to hope?” he said to Obama, “well, what are you willing to sacrifice for it?” West calls for enormous courage and compassion to continue living the prophetic, hopeful life within an American Empire that is so persistently “cross-averse”.
Here are the Graphic Novels, Poetry and Scripture I read this year:
Graphic Novels
The Golem’s Mighty Swing, James Sturm
A factional account of an all-Jewish (or almost all) baseball team in the 1920’s that toured the country playing local semi-pro teams. It details the racism of the time, but also the love and passion for the American pastime.
Well-written and occasionally laugh-out-loud funny, this book details some rather unfortunate comic book ideas from the Golden, Silver and Modern Age of comics. I had heard of a few of these misbegotten characters, such as ROM and Peacemaker and Prez, but many others were new to me, most likely because they only lasted a few issues, if that. Some of my favourites include Speed Centaur (a centaur whose secret identity is actually to dress up as a horse); Fatman (who can turn into a flying saucer); and Thunderbunny (a kid who can transform into a powerful superhero who also happens to be a 6 foot tall rabbit).
All My Friends Are Dead, Avery Monsen and Jory John
Funny, surprising, and dark.
How Raven Freed the Moon, Anne Cameron
Illustrated story of this ancient Indigenous story of how Raven stole the moon and put it in the sky, as first told to the author by a storyteller woman named Klopinum, or “Keeper of the River of Copper”.
Rashomon: A Commissioner Heigo Kobayashi Case, Victor Santos
The traditional stories of Rashomon and 47 Ronin, combined in two parts, and portrayed as a film noir detective story set in feudal Japan. Not bad.
The Hunting of the Snark, Lewis Carroll, illustrated by Mahendra Singh
Beautiful piece of absurdist nonsense poetry that also scans, and possibly says something deeper about faith, or maybe colonialism, or possibly maths, but definitely beavers. No one really knows what it means, except that Carroll himself thought it could be about the pursuit of joy. Maybe. Delightfully fun and wonderfully illustrated version.
A Die Hard Christmas, The illustrated Holiday Classic, Doogie Horner and JJ Harrison:
Proves that Die Hard is a Christmas movie, once and for all.
Poetry
Conflict Resolution for Holy Beings, Joy Harjo
A beautiful series of poems by American poet laureate Harjo of the Muscogee Nation. The poems are simple and lyrical, some more songs than strict verse, and are influenced by jazz, blues, and indigenous culture.
100 Poems, Seamus Heaney
Selected by Heaney’s family after his death, these poems represent some of their personal favourites from the Irish master. They encompass school life, his childhood on a peat farm, his courtship and marriage, warfare, poems about his children, and thoughts on Ireland, England, and more. One of my favourite phrases is this one: “Open minds as open as a trap…”
The Collected Poems of William Carlos Williams, Vol 2, 1939-1962
Williams is the modern imagist poet of the “be here now” school. He discovers and communicates meaning and purpose in the moment by moment, the small stuff of life. I have been wanting to read a compendium of his work since watching the movie Paterson, and finally found this large volume covering a big portion of his life, most notably “Pictures from Brueghel and Other Poems” from 1962, for which he was posthumously awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature.
Scripture
Exodus (NIV, ESV, The Message):
Really paid attention to what was going on in this book. Almost feels like three books, with the opening description of Egypt and the signs and the Exodus; the journey of Israel into the wilderness and the revelation at Mt Sinai; and the near interminable plans for and description of the setting up of the Tabernacle and the system of cultic worship. Two major things struck me this time around: the importance of the Name of Yahweh, in the sense of God’s revealed character; and the way this book could be and has been used to dispossess people from their lands. At the very least we have to insist that the instructions in this book for Israel to take the Promised Land were for them, and can not be applied in the future for other peoples greedy for the land of others.
Joshua (NIV, ESV, The Message)
The story of Joshua is one of faith and courage, but also displacement and horrific levels of violence. The most important line may be when Joshua encounters the angel of the LORD and asks which side it is on. The angel replies, “I am neither on your side nor on your enemies’ side. I am on the side of the LORD.”
Psalms - Robert Alter’s translation from the Hebrew with Commentary; Les Psaumes en Francais Courent; Los Salmos en Espanol.
I love the Psalms, and try to pray them daily. I have especially been loving Poor Bishop Hooper’s Every Psalm music project, and listen to Ps 38, 39, and 51 daily, along with their new weekly Psalm. I hope to spend a day listening to all of the Psalms in order once they are finished.
1 John: Studied this with the family and with the Jacob’s Well bible study, in preparation for baptisms. Much of what is needed to understand the Christian faith is contained within this short letter, and much to do with how to live it out besides (which is really the same thing). Orthodoxy and Orthopraxy combined in love.
2 John
3 John
Proverbs: Endlessly helpful wisdom here. We really should be paying much more attention.
Daniel (ESV, NLT, MSG)
Amos (ESV, NIV, MSG)
John (ESV, NIV, MSG)
Romans (ESV, FNV, MSG, NIV)
Ephesians (FNV, NIV, MSG, ESV)
1 Peter (ESV, FNV, MSG, NIV)
2 Peter (ESV, FNV, MSG, NIV)
Titus (ESV, FNV, MSG, NRSV)
Hebrews (NRSV, FNV)
