Cold Sassy Tree by Olive Ann Burns

Back in the 80s, I served a stint in a national chain bookstore, now gobbled up by a larger chain. Bob the manager and I became good friends and frequently recommended books to each other. He urged me to read Olive Ann Burns’ Cold Sassy Tree, but I skimmed through the book and never started it. When a good friend in my book club picked it as the April read, I finally gave in and read it.

I should have listened to Bob all those years ago, because this is a really delightful story. It has humor, pathos, philosophy, kindness, meanness, charity, and downright stinginess. In short, this is a story of a typical Southern, small-town America in 1906.

Cold Sassy, Georgia -- 90 miles from Atlanta -- is a sleepy town filled with gossip, coexisting churches – Baptist and Methodist – and three communities of residents. The town people, led by Rucker Blakeslee, who owns a “brick store” and his family consisting of two daughters and their husbands. The older daughter, Mary Willis, is married to Hoyt Tweedy, and they have a son, Will, and a little “red-headed girl,” Mary Toy. The younger daughter is Loma, married to Campbell “Camp” Williams, and they have a son, Campbell, Jr.

The town has a mill, and the workers – referred to as lint heads – live in mill town. Many of the workers in the mill are children. Some of the mill children attend school until they are old enough to go to work. The townies look down upon the mill town residents.

The third community consists of the African-Americans led by Loomis, who does odd jobs for Rucker and his family. Queenie is a cook and housekeeper for Hoyt and Mary

Crusty old Rucker is a skinflint of the first order. He keeps his wife Mattie Lou in a house with no electricity, no running water, no phone, and a privy in the back yard. He is full of “cracker-barrel, common sense wisdom.” Rucker says, “When you don’t know which way to turn, son, try something. Don’t jest do nothin’” (315). Hoyt works at the store along with Campbell. Rucker says, “Camp was born tired and raised lazy” (22). Fourteen-year-old Will also works at the store, has chores around the house and barn, and does things for his Grandma. He rarely has a moments rest and has to beg for a day off to go fishing. Will is Rucker’s favorite.

Then Rucker hires the beautiful Miss Love Simpson as a milliner for his store. Love came down from Baltimore, and was immediately branded a “damnyankee,” and tongues began to cluck.

The first two-thirds of the story are slow paced with a good measure of country humor. Loma wants to join a group of traveling actors. Rucker says, “Loma, I ain’t a-go’n let you do it. Ain’t no tellin’ what kind of life you’d live with them kind-a folks.” She stomped and cried and carried on something awful. “I wish I was a boy so I could go off on my own!” “I wish you was a boy, too, but you ain’t,” Granpa retorted, “and you ain’t go’n be no actress, neither. So hesh up” (17). A curmudgeon he was, but he had a soft spot when a friend or a member of his family needed help.

The last third of Cold Sassy Tree takes a surprising and emotional turn. I was completely absorbed near the end, and the last sentence on page 391 brought a tear to my eye. 5 stars

--Chiron, 4/25/12

The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins

Over the years, I have informally surveyed my students for the titles of books they read for fun. Lately, a frequently mentioned work is The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins. In fact, so many students mentioned it, I decided to buy a copy. When the film version came out to rave reviews and record-breaking ticket sales, I decided it was time to find out what this adventure story had to offer. Collins has written an exciting and riveting tale of a dystopian America.

The back story is a bit vague. Some sort of revolt resulted in a horrific crushing of the populace. The country, known as “Panem,” was divided into 13 districts, and all but one submitted to the harsh rule of “The Capitol.” Most of the wealth, technology, food, energy, and health care was concentrated in this district. The district which refused to submit was obliterated. Each district also had is specialty. District 12, known as “The Seam” produced coal. Stealing coal resulted in a death penalty. The residents scrabbled for food, and hunting in the surrounding forest – patrolled by hovercraft – was strictly forbidden.

Katniss Everdeen lives with her mother and younger sister, Prim. Her mother is a skilled “healer” and has developed a following. Katniss’ father was killed in a coal mine explosion, and she helps feed the family with illegal hunting.

The Capitol runs the “Hunger Games” as entertainment. All aspects of this ultimate reality show are televised 24 hours a day as long as the game lasts. Each district holds a lottery to choose two “tributes” – one male and one female – to enter the arena and fight for survival. Only one of the 24 tributes selected can emerge the victor. As the story opens, the lottery for this year’s games has begun. Twelve-year-old Prim, in her first year of eligibility, has been selected. Katniss steps forward and volunteers to take her sister’s place.

Tributes are scrubbed, polished, and dressed in fantastic costumes for their TV introduction. An interview process allows them to demonstrate their skills, so an appropriate tool awaits them once they are released into the arena. Their appearance determines how many “sponsors” an individual tribute can garner. These sponsors donate money, which can then be used to deliver items needed by the tributes.

Collins has woven a taut and breathtaking story of survival, where cunning, treachery, brutality are the main keys to survival. Some of the tributes are much better fed, clothed, and equipped. In fact, contrary to rules, tributes from these districts are trained for the games. Few districts have the means to prepare its tributes, who are immediately swept from their homes with only the briefest of goodbyes and taken to the preparation center.

I sense several layers to this allegory, but I will leave each reader to determine what these thinly veiled clues reveal. This trilogy could rival the Harry Potter series in popularity. Since the film release, I have seen copies slipping in an out of backpacks and purses all over the place.

Unlike J.K. Rowling’s seven-volume story of the boy-wizard, which began in relative innocence, but slowly became violent, Hunger Games starts with a high level of intensity almost from page one. While it may be too intense for some pre-teens, those youngsters raised with fantasy video games, will most likely enjoy the story. My next step is to see the film version. 5 stars

--Chiron, 4/15/12

Zen Buddhism by D.T. Suzuki

I own a couple of dozen books about Buddhism. I enjoy reading about the four noble truths [Life means suffering; the origin of suffering is attachment; the cessation of suffering is attainable; and the path to the cessation of suffering], the teachings of Buddha and Zen Masters, and the many riddles used in instruction; however, I have not read anything by Suzuki. But when I read that this book by him was challenged at the Plymouth-Canton school system in Canton, Michigan in 1987, I decided to purchase it. The book-banners explained their decision by stating, "this book details the teachings of the religion of Buddhism in such a way that the reader could very likely embrace its teachings and choose this as his religion." I agree it is a thorough and well-written survey of the history and philosophy of Buddhism, but I completely disagree that this – or any book – could turn someone away from sincere and deeply held beliefs. If this book turned anyone any which way, it was because the reader had some doubts about those beliefs.

Zen Buddhism has not convinced me to embrace Buddhism as a life style. Still, many of the ideas are appealing. Introspection, respect for all sentient life, non-violence, and moderation – among other ideas – are things practitioners of any religion can easily embrace.

According to the author’s note, Suzuki, who lived from 1869 to 1966, was born and educated in Japan. He lectured extensively throughout the world and taught at Columbia University. He influenced many of the great thinkers of the 20th century, including C. G. Jung, Aldous Huxley, and the Trappist Monk, Thomas Merton.”

Suzuki begins with a discussion of the “sense of Zen,” and notes that “Hebraic and Greek traditions are profoundly dualistic in spirit. That is, they divide reality into two parts and set one part off against the other. The Hebrew tradition divides God and creature, the Law and erring members, spirit and flesh. The Greek, on the other hand, divides reality along intellectual lines,” … [making] “reason the highest and most valued function” (x). The bedrock of Buddhism, however, lay in the idea of “favoring intuition over reason” (x).

Suzuki then outlines a detailed history of Buddhism from its origins in India through China, and to Japan. He then focuses on several varieties of Zen whose adherents practice meditation in an attempt to develop “a new viewpoint on life and things generally” (98). According to Suzuki, “Zen is a matter of character and not of the intellect” (114). Furthermore, he writes, requires something inwardly propelling, energizing, and capable of doing work” (111). I see this “inward force” as faith.

Zen, on the other hand, “gives life to the intellect … by giving one a new point of view on things, a new way of approaching the truth and beauty of life and the world, by discovering a new source of energy in the inmost recesses of consciousness, and by bestowing on one a feeling of completeness and sufficiency” (132).

Suzuki then gives a guide to practical instruction in Zen, Zen and the unconscious, lessons in the koans, or riddles, used in instruction, the role of nature, a survey of existentialism, pragmatism, and Zen, and finally, notes on painting, poetry, and the tea ceremony.

I highly recommend this book to any reader who has ever had any curiosity about Zen Buddhism. I tried, but failed to find anything that cannot fit within the confines of most organized religions. The only drawbacks are the Chinese and Japanese names, which can be confusing. I am moving this book to my desert island shelf. 5 stars

--Chiron, 4/14/12

The War That Killed Achilles: The True Story of Homer's Iliad and the Trojan War by Caroline Alexander

For many years, I have loved and admired Homer’s Odyssey. I never spent much time soaking up The Iliad, because the war and violence depicted never held much interest for me. However, Alexander’s excellent commentary on The Iliad, has completely changed my view of this great epic.

A professor once said, “There is only one story, and that is The Odyssey. All other stories flow from it.” At first, I thought this implausible, but the more I read, the more parallels I began to notice. Joseph Campbell’s monumental work The Hero with a Thousand Faces enlightened me further – not only to The Odyssey, but to many other pieces of literature from all cultures and time periods.

My world lit class took up Iliad this semester, and I decided to read this book to add something to the discussion. Not only did I completely enjoy this well-written and thoroughly documented book, but I greatly increased my knowledge of The Iliad and The Odyssey. I now see these two foundations of western literature as mirror images of each other, as well as complimentary windows into the worlds of the Achaeans and Trojans.

The Odyssey focuses on one main male character with a host of interesting, alluring, and powerful women. I have always loved the stories of Kalypso, Circe, and Nausicaa – not to forget “the grey-eyed Goddess," Athena. Iliad, on the other hand centers on three women – Helen of Greece, Andromache, the wife of Hector, and Breseis, cousin of Hector. The rest of the women are all in the background, and Achilles and many warriors and kings provide important elements that move the plot.

In addition to Achilles strong anti-war stance, his anger at Agamemnon’s seizure of Breseis – a prize he won in the initial battle before the walls of Troy -- provides the dramatic conflict which threatens the invading army of Acheans.

Alexander also draws some interesting parallels with the 20th century. Achilles says,

“I for my part did not come here for the sake of the Trojan
spearmen to fight against them, since to me they have done nothing.
Never yet have they driven away my cattle or my horses,
never in Phthia where the soil is rich and men grow great did they
spoil my harvest, since indeed there is much that lies between us,
the shadowy mountains and the echoing sea” (20).

Alexander then quotes the words of Muhammad Ali when he refused to submit to the draft, claiming the Viet Cong had never done him any harm (21).

Throughout the book, Alexander highlights the absurdity of war, and even though the men fight for glory, Homer tells us there is no glory in dying. She brings home the real lessons of war. She describes what Achilles believes, “Life is more precious than glory; this is the unheroic truth disclosed by the greatest warrior at Troy… glory…is achieved through heroic poetry, in other words, through epic” (98).

This book belongs on my desert island shelf along with my copies of The Iliad and The Odyssey. 5 stars

--Chiron, 3/2/12

The Year of Wonder by Geraldine Brooks

Year of Wonders: A Novel of the Plague by Geraldine Brooks represents my third encounter with Brooks. March, a novel of the father figure in Alcott’s Little Women was the first, and the magnificent People of the Book both set high standards for historical fiction. Brooks has come up with another detailed and well-researched novel of the 1666 plague outbreak in England. She won Pulitzer Prizes for March and Years.

Based on the true story of Eyam, a small village in Derbyshire, Brooks has managed to convey the terror and frightening consequences of this catastrophic event. Anne Frith is a widow with two young children. Her husband died in a mine collapse. She tends her flock of sheep, raises the children, and works each morning as housekeeper and cook for the village pastor.

This novel not only instructs about events in 17th century England, it also provides some interesting insights on our society today.

One interesting parallel with modern society lies in the succumbing to superstitions. How often do we cross our fingers, knock on wood, or throw salt over our shoulder? These benign examples only begin to scratch the surface of our superstitious society. I am still amazed to enter an elevator and find no 13th floor – even in new buildings!

Two local women provide herbal remedies to the village, and the wife of the pastor, Elizabeth Mompellion uses them and recommends them to Anne. Brooks writes, “But of her herb knowledge I wanted none; it is one thing for a pastor’s wife to have such learning and another thing again for a widow woman of my sort. I knew how easy it is for [a] widow to be turned witch in the common mind, and the first cause generally is that she meddles somehow in medicinals.” (38)

The prose Brooks uses has such a wonderful pastoral tone, I sometimes forgot this was set in the middle of a terrible tragedy. “At last, I called to Jamie and we, too, set our feet on the path for home. All along the way, Jamie kept darting off like a swallow, swooping down to pluck the blowsy, late-blooming dog roses. When we neared the cottage, he bad, he made me wait by the door while he ran inside. ‘Close your eyes, Mummy,’ he cried excitedly. Obediently, I waited, my face buried in my hands, wondering what game he was devising. I heard him thump up the stairs, scrambling, as he did when he was in a hurry, on all fours like a puppy. A few moments passed, and then I heard the upstairs casement creak open. ‘All right Mummy. Now! Look up!’ I tilted my face and opened my eyes to find myself in a velvet rain of rose petals. The soft, sweet shower brushed my cheeks. I pulled off my cap and shook out my long hair and let petals land in its tangles. ‘This,’ I thought, smiling gratefully up at him, ‘this moment is my miracle.’” (71)

Anne Frith is a strong, intelligent, and empathetic woman, who overcomes incredible obstacles and survives. She is the centerpiece of this story, the best, and most likeable character, and I marvel at her reasoning skills. Brooks has wonderfully captured the voice of 1666 England, and easily reminds me of Samuel Pepys. Brooks has another novel, Caleb’s Crossing, which I can’t wait to begin. (5 stars)

--Chiron, 2/19/12

Breakfast with Buddha by Roland Merullo

In 1993, at age 45, I packed up my car and moved to Texas to attend grad school at Baylor University. Over the years, I have made about 40 round trips driving to and from Philadelphia. I always enjoyed those rides as a time to relax and unwind after a long semester teaching. I listened to music or a book on tapes or CDs, I stopped when and where I wanted for a rest, to eat, or perhaps an antique store, flea market, or historical site. Most of the time, I traveled alone, but I always found the trips refreshing.

Roland Merullo’s Breakfast with Buddha tells the story of Otto Ringling, 45, whose parents have died in an automobile accident in North Dakota. He loads up his car, says his goodbyes to his wife, Jeannie, and two children, and heads to his sister’s home in New Jersey. He expects to have Cecelia as a passenger for the trip, but she convinces Otto to take Volya Rinpoche, her spiritual adviser instead.

Otto, who works as a book editor for a small publishing house, is in no mood for nonsense. Initially, he resists interacting with Rinpoche, but gradually comes under the sage’s spell. Rinpoche is a Tibetan honorific, which means “precious one,” and it is usually applied to a respected teacher.

The story more than held my interest all the way to the end. Through attempts at Yoga, riddles, and stories, Otto eventually began to appreciate what Rinpoche had to offer. Otto declares himself a Christian without regular church attendance. He finds repellant Christians who believe what “ails us is more and stricter rules, more narrow-mindedness, more hatred, more sectioning off of the society, and it has always seemed to me that, if Christ’s message could be distilled down to one line, that line would have to do with kindness and inclusiveness, not rules and divisiveness.” (153) My sentiments precisely!

The last couple of chapters sum up what Otto has gained on the journey. The reluctant “hero” of the story really learns a lot about himself and his life. He always insists he has a good life, with a loving wife, two great kids, and a good job he loved, but Rinpoche pushes him to experience more. Merullo writes,

“Something was changing us with each breath, each second. The delusion of youth was that you believed you’d never reach middle age, and the delusion of middle age made you believe you could go on more or less indefinitely the way things were. Yes, the kids would grow up. Yes, you’d grow old and eventually pass away. But, really, there were so many pleasures to be had between now and then, so many tennis games, so many meals, so many weeks at the Cape and the ski lodge, so tremendously much to do before that other stage of life eventually set in.” (315)

Published by Algonquin Press of Chapel Hill, Merullo’s Breakfast with Buddha is a pleasant and thought-provoking read. I have collected novels from this publisher for almost 30 years, and this one convinces me, yet again, I have done the right thing. (5 stars)

--Chiron, 2/13/12

Make It Stay by Joan Frank

This fifth work of fiction by Joan Frank, who has won a slew of short story and fiction prizes, has a peculiar style, which took a few pages for me to fully appreciate.

Make it Stay reveals the history and inner workings of two couples. Neil, of Scottish ancestry, has passed the bar exam, taken out a loan, and opened a personal injury practice in Mira Flores, a small community in Northern California. The first person he meets is Mike Spender, something of a hippie, who runs a tropical fish store with the clever name of “Finny Business.” Mike frequently travels to the South Pacific to capture stock for his store. He takes Neil on one of these expeditions. Rae moves in with Neil, and while he cooks dinner for a group of their friends, he begins telling her the story of his adventures with Mike and his wife, Tilda.

Frank has told Make It Stay in a conversational style, which can only be described as casual, bordering on stream of consciousness. As the interesting and absorbing story spins out, I felt as if I sat – late at night -- on a comfortable sofa, with a close friend unburdening herself. Rae narrates the story of the two couples, and I can even see her looking away, absorbed in thought, trying to recall some detail pertinent to the tale of the complicated lives these four experienced.

As an example of this style early on in the story, Rae muses on a noisy screen door,

“Abrupt and bracing and welcome, the blueing air out the back door—door that screams like a raptor every time it’s opened. I don’t oil it, because as much as the sound claws at me, I think someday it might announce a burglar – though in truth, an intruder could easily enter any of the old back windows while both of us slept sweetly on. “We’ll replace these windows soon,” Neil mutters as we descend the wooden stairs; he is thinking the same thing, which happens more and more these days, and touches me. The skin of my bare arms tightens against the temperature; I should’ve grabbed a sweater. Sun low, piercing smell of late day, chimney smoke, crushed leaves, cooling earth; aromas of our own pending dinner; of neighbors’ dinners. Oh, Sundays! Unbearable time. Implacable stillness. The jay’s cry, its flash of blue wing. Tang and clarity that cut, when the nearness of the beloved is about the only thing that keeps you from doubling over.” (60)

Prose this poetic does not come along nearly enough for my tastes. So a mixture of wonderful prose, complicated relationships, memory, friendship, loyalty, a nifty, interesting style, an a somewhat unexpected conclusion all come together for a wonderful read that I found hard to put aside.

Due out soon, keep an eye out for this most excellent read. Kudos to Permanent Press, a small independent publisher, for supporting authors of this caliber. Make It Stay is Frank’s third novel and the second published by Permanent. 5 stars.

--Chiron, 2/5/12

How the Scots Invented the Modern World by Arthur Herman

This history has an intriguing title, and I could not wait to dive in. One of my primary teaching specialties is British Literature, so I know something about the early history of Scotland. I hoped to add to that knowledge.

Unfortunately, I was greatly disappointed. Not only was the prose deadly dull, but the humor was so subtle and so deeply buried, not even a smile broke the hours I struggled through the first 100 pages. If this had not been on the list of reads for my book club, I would have invoked the “Rule of 50” around about page ten.

Furthermore, while the premise seems to have some plausibility, many of the connections with the Scots are tenuous at best and extremely flimsy at worst. For example, in 1579, George Buchanan asserted the authority of government arises from the people. Herman thus lays claim to this “invention,” which Locke thoroughly examined and enabled the ideas to actually come to fruition (18-19). Technically speaking, this embryonic idea of democracy belongs to the Golden Age of Athenian culture, which developed the idea much more fully.

If I was more frugal, I might be upset that I wasted the money for this book. The chapter on the relationship of the clans and their connection to English Royalty – which embodied what I already knew about the early history of Scotland – was somewhat interesting. However, this is hardly enough to redeem this work. 1 star

--Chiron, 1/26/12

The Golden Droplet by Michel Tournier

One of the side effects of being a voracious reader involves hunting down earlier works by authors we love and admire. It took some effort to find this 1988 novel, but it proved to be a worthwhile endeavor.

Michel Tournier was born in Paris, and he studied philosophy at the Sorbonne and at the University of Tübingen. He wished to teach but failed to pass the French civil service exam. He joined Radio France as a journalist and translator and hosted The French Cultural Hour. In 1954 he began to write for Le Monde and Le Figaro. From 1958 to 1968, he was the chief editor of Plon, a French publishing house. In 1967 he published his first novel, which was awarded the Grand Prix du roman de l'Académie française. The Ogre, his second novel, was my introduction to Tournier. A friend, who also admires Tournier, told me The Golden Droplet surpassed Ogre for sheer power of the prose, comic touches, and a level of profound insight. The hunt was on. Thanks to on-line book searches, I found a copy.

The Golden Droplet tells the story of Idris, a Berber sheep herder who lives at the Tabelbala Oasis in Algeria. One day, a blond woman stops and asks to take his picture. She promises to send it to him when she gets home to Paris, France. The village only had one photo at the time – that of a hero of the French Army in World War II. Idris saw this photo as an opportunity to raise his status in the remote desert community.

Months passed, but no photo arrived. Faced with marrying a woman he did not love, Idris sets out on a picaresque journey to find the blond woman and retrieve his photo. Idris starts out walking, then after a series of hitchhiking adventures, finds himself in La Goutte D’or [The Golden Droplet], which is the name of the Arab slums inhabited by immigrants from North Africa.

Tournier has embedded subtle humor in his prose. For example, Tournier writes, “Idris remembered the glass-fronted cabinets of the museum in Beni-Abbès; they were shop windows in miniature, But … a shop window worthy of the name is sealed off by a partition. It forms a closed area, at the same time totally exposed to the gaze and inaccessible to the hands, impenetrable and yet without secrets, a world you may only touch with your eyes but which is nevertheless real, in a way illusory like the world of photography or television. A fragile, provocative safe, a shop window is just asking to be broken into” (144).

If the novel has any faults it involves quite a few Berber words without translation. A few could be worked out from context, Google provided the definition of a few more, but the majority eluded me. After about 50 pages of this, I began to mark the words only for later research. After another 50 pages, I stopped even that, as I slid into this story’s absorbing prose, and these mysterious words became ornaments I actually enjoyed.

The Golden Droplet is an interesting and profound story of sight, images, memory, and how an immigrant spreads his culture while adapting to his or her new home. 5 stars

--Chiron, 1/14/12

20 Years After by E.J. Newman

Emma Newman currently lives in Somerset, England, not terribly far from where she was born in a coastal village. After graduating from Oxford, she worked in magazine publishing, web site information architecture, and had a stint as a teacher. She has also recorded audio book versions of her works. Emma has published a collection of short stories, From Dark Places, and the forthcoming novel, Split Worlds…It Begins. Twenty Years Later is her first novel.

Sporadically, I have encountered dystopian literature and enjoyed what I have read – The Lord of the Flies, 1984, Brave New World – without ever actually seeking it out. When I first heard about Emma Newman’s YA novel, I experienced a twinge of skepticism. However, she captured my attention on the first pages.

20 Years After recounts the story of London, 20 years after a mysterious event which wiped out most of the adults. Left behind, gangs of young boys occupied and defended patches of the city with violent and frequently deadly consequences. Miri, a woman knowledgeable in the field of medicine, and her son Zane occupy a garden in an area bordered by three gangs – The Gardners, the Red Lady gang, and the Bloomsbury boys. Miri tries to protect Zane from the outside world. The garden and their house provide a safe haven from the violence of the city. Despite her efforts, Zane befriends one of the Bloomsbury boys, and the outside encroaches on their lives.

Only an occasional piece of conversation betrays the youth of these gang members and reminds me I am reading a YA novel.

Not only is this a first novel for Newman but also the first novel published by Dystopia Press, a local publisher in Central Texas. 20 Years After is the first volume of a trilogy, and I eagerly await parts two and three. 5 stars

--Chiron, 12/27/11

Good Without God: What a Billion Nonreligious People Do Believe by Greg Epstein

Epstein is the Humanist Chaplain at Harvard University. This New York Times bestseller is a treasure trove of information about Humanism. His chapter titles say it all: “Can We Be Good Without God?”; “A Brief History of Goodness Without God”; “Why Be Good Without God? (which includes an interesting excursion into Camus’ The Plague); and a “how-to” guide to ethics and Humanism. Appendices include writings from noted Humanist thinkers and a list of Humanist and secular resources.

The radical right has tried to trash the ideas and ideals of humanism recently, so if you are curious about the truth, this book is a must read.

Essentially, “Humanists believe in life before death,” and Epstein adds a definition of “Humanism as a progressive lifestance that, without superstition, affirms our ability and responsibility to lead ethical lives of personal fulfillment, aspiring to the greater good of humanity” (xii-xiv).

Some work has been done recently in the psychology of religion, and Epstein writes that, “for most, religion is not about belief in an all-seeing deity with a baritone voice and a flowing beard. It is about group identification – the community and the connections we need to live. It is about family, tradition, consolation, ethics, memories, music, art, architecture and much more” (xiv). Humanists believe in all these good qualities of wonderful and fulfilled life.

Epstein has written a fascinating history of Humanism dating back to its roots among the Epicureans – three centuries bce – through the Renaissance to the 20th century.

I have added this book to my “Desert Island Shelf,” because I know I will want to go back to it many times in the coming years. 5 stars

--Chiron, 12/24/11

Holy Ghost Girl by Donna M. Johnson

A couple of months ago, I received a call from Donna Johnson, who identified herself as a former student of my college. She told me she had written a memoir of her life growing up on the “sawdust circuit,” otherwise known as the world of tent revivals. It didn’t seem like something I would be interested in, but she offered to send me a copy of the book. She also asked if she could speak to my creative writing class. I am always happy to accommodate this request, because writers invariably tell my students the same things I tell them about reading, writing, persistence, and discipline.

When, I got Holy Ghost Girl, I was still skeptical, but publication by a division of Penguin must mean something. So, I called her back and made arrangements for her to speak to my class.

Whew! Am I glad I did not let these two opportunities slip by me. First of all, Donna did a terrific job – not only in my class, but also at a reading at the local Barnes & Noble a couple of days later.

When we agreed on a date and time, I decided I should at least begin to read the book. Once I started, I could hardly put it down.

Tent revivals encompass a world entirely off my radar. I knew about them in a vague sort of way – mostly from television. But Johnson has created a vivid world of the showmanship, the greed, the shameless begging, and obviously faked “miracle cures.”

Donna tells the story through her eyes as a young child. She acknowledges help with some of the memories from her sister and mother and some scholarly sources, but the truth of her story pours off every page. I never doubted a word of her tale for even a moment.

The rationalizations, the excuses, the canard “It’s all part of God’s plan,” and the ubiquitous “God told me (fill in the blank).” Needless to say I was appalled at the pandering for the last dollars and coins of people living on the edge. Most of the revivals seem to have taken place in the rural south, including Texas. David Terrell is still active, and his website lists a number of revivals.

The real tragedy of the story involves the effect this life had on Donna and her brother and sisters. CPS would be all over Donna’s mother, Carolyn Johnson for abandonment of her children in the care of near-strangers. Donna captures the terror of every move, every all-night drive to the next revival site, every time the children watched their mother drive away for an unknown destination for unknown length of time.

Donna has her doubts, but somehow she cannot turn completely away. Of course the child is awestruck by the charismatic preacher, but the adult has questions. She writes, “Doubt is a lot like faith; a mustard seed’s worth changes everything. Away from the tent, the questions kept coming. How can Brother Terrell claim to be without sin? Why doesn’t it matter that he is committing adultery and lying? [italics Johnson’s] .(256) and “”Why did Brother Terrell and my family have so much stuff, when Jesus said to sell everything and give it to the poor? Why had an omnipotent God let that child die?” (257). Why indeed?

As Lord Acton wrote, “Power corrupts; absolute power corrupts absolutely,” so inevitably, the mansions, the Mercedes, the planes, the fast living, all consumed David Terrell, and, inevitably, the tax man cometh. Eventually, Terrell was convicted and spent a few measly years in prison for the millions he bilked off of poor, gullible people who desperately wanted to believe a better life awaited them in the beyond.

An absorbing story, and I recommend it highly. 5 stars

--Chiron, 11/17/11

The Sense of an Ending by Julian Barnes

I haven’t read any Julian Barnes since Flaubert’s Parrot and History of the World in 10-1/2 Chapters in grad school. When the 2011 Booker Prize went to Barnes for A Sense of an Ending, I pounced on it. My complete set of Booker Prize winning novels is one of my prize collections.

Ending is divided into two parts. The first tells the story of four friends in high school: Colin, Alex, the narrator Tony Webster, and a newcomer to the school, Adrian Finn. The boys graduate and slowly drift apart. Then Adrian dies unexpectedly, and the memories come crashing down on Tony. Part of his past also reappears in the form of Veronica – a woman Tony cared about deeply, but who dropped him rather abruptly and unkindly. That’s it – no more plot.

The story is a lot more complicated, as Barnes delves into the sometimes distorted memory of Tony, who as Veronica says, “doesn’t get it.” Tony hasn’t really given much thought about the details of his life in years. The novel opens with a list of images, which re-appear throughout the novel. These images, first out of, and then, in context provide an interesting backdrop to the story.

Barnes has written a novel which begs to be read in a single sitting. His prose mesmerizes the reader and creates a hunger for more of the details of Tony and his friends.

Appropriately enough, the opening scene is a history class, and the boys offer differing interpretations of the past. Professor Hunt asked Tony, “What is history?” Tony replied, “History is the lies of the victors” … and then Hunt says, “as long as you remember that it is also the self-delusions of the defeated” (18).

Later, Tony muses, “It strikes me that this may be one of the differences between youth and age: when we are young, we invent different futures for ourselves; when we are old, we invent different pasts for others” (88). I wondered, who is the victor? Who the defeated?

The themes of history and memory run through the novel, and Barnes has his narrator constantly turning over the stones of his past to understand himself and the context of his life. Barnes writes, “Someone once said that his favourite times in history were when things were collapsing, because that meant something new was being born. Does this make sense if we apply it to our individual lives? To die when something new was being born – even if that something new is our very own self?

A most interesting question! Ultimately, Tony determines the significance of his memories, but a surprise ending brings the entire story into focus. 5 stars

--Chiron, 11/11/11

French Lessons by Ellen Sussman

Some might call this “chick lit,” but I think it has a bit more to it than that. I have done some pretty heavy reading lately, and when I left for a weekend in Charleston, I needed something a bit lighter.

Chantel and Philippe are lovers. Along with their friend Nico, all work for a tutoring school in Paris. As is the custom, they meet for coffee before beginning a day with their students wandering around Paris, helping them learn French. Philippe has been cheating on Chantel, and she has “revenge sex” with Nico. The novel breaks down into three parts. Nico instructs Josie, an American escaping to Paris after the sudden death of her lover, Simon, the married father of one of her students. Philippe pairs up with Riley, an ex-pat American with two children, and a husband, Victor, who spends way too much time on the job. Chantel strolls about the City of Lights with Jeremy, married to Dana, an American actress making a film. At the end of the day, they all arrive at the set of the movie on a bridge over the Seine.

Quite a few erotic scenes pepper the story, so this is definitely an NC-17 novel. But the discussions and the introspection elevate French Lessons quite a bit above an ordinary romance. Furthermore, the plot develops in an unexpected way for each pair of characters, and the ending has a nice twist.



A nice read for a rainy, damp, fall day curled up with a cup of tea and some soft music. 4 stars.

--Chiron, 11/6/11

Catherine the Great: Portrait of a Woman by Robert K. Massie

Forty some years ago, as I gathered textbooks at LaSalle College for another semester pursing a degree in political science, I happened to pass a textbook for a class which not in my major. I grabbed a copy, and thus began a lifelong interest in the history of Russia. Robert K. Massie has written a definitive biography of Tsarina Catherine II, known as Catherine the Great.

Well-educated, multi-lingual, cultured, free-spirited, graceful, with a good measure of beauty and charm only begins to describe this complex, intelligent woman.

Catherine, a voracious reader of the great enlightenment thinkers such as Diderot, Montesquieu, Beccaria, and, perhaps most importantly, Voltaire, attempted a radical reform of the Russian legal and economic systems. She titled her document the Nakaz, or “Instruction.” She believed a benevolent autocracy was the only form of government able to hold together the vast Russian Empire with its mind-numbing variety of ethnic groups, languages, philosophies, religious views, and social classes.

The same men who profoundly influenced our founding fathers, instructed Catherine in equal rights for men and women, religious freedom, strict limits on capital punishment, and the banning of torture. Unfortunately, the serfs, considered property tied to the land, would only receive limited benefits from this proposal. When the nobles finished hacking and sawing the 500 plus articles in her manifesto, barely a quarter of her two-year’s labor remained. Yet Voltaire hailed it as masterpiece of Enlightenment thought and practice.

I was particularly struck by some ideas and quotes of Voltaire’s incorporated into the Nakaz. For example, Catherine wrote, “Experience shows that the frequent use of severe punishment has never rendered a people better. The death of a criminal is a less effective means of restraining crimes than the permanent example of a man deprived of his liberty during the whole of his life to make amends for the injury he has done to the public” (350). This sentence is worthy of Jefferson, Washington, Adams, or Lincoln.

In prohibiting censorship and promoting free speech, she wrote, “censorship can be ‘productive of nothing but ignorance and must cramp the rising efforts of genius and destroy the very will for writing” (351).

When Catherine ascended the throne in 1761, she immediately put an end to a pointless, costly, and destructive war in Eastern Europe. She believed, as Voltaire wrote, “The victorious nation never profits from the spoils of the conquered; it pays for everything. It suffers as much when its armies are successful as when they are defeated. Whoever wins, humanity loses” (335).

This meticulously documented biography covers Catherine’s life from her birth as Sophia in 1727 through her 34-year reign as Empress Catherine II to her death in 1796.

The only shortcoming – and a minor one at that – is the lack of genealogical chart to separate all the Catherines, Peters, Pauls, and Ivans which populated the Russian Empire during the enlightenment. Due for publication November 8th, be sure to add this fascinating biography to your TBR list. 5 stars.

--Chiron, 10/27/11

Eclipse by John Banville

John Banville won the Booker Prize in 2005 for The Sea. Of his 14 novels, Eclipse is the 7th I have read. At first, I feared this one did not have the interesting characters I have come to expect from Banville, but as I traveled more and more deeply into the novel, I realized my fears had no basis when confronted with the power of his prose. Banville always provides an interesting plot, characters drawn in great and interesting detail, with lots of introspection – exactly the kind of novel I love.

Alexander Cleave has built a career as an acclaimed actor performing all over the world. One day, he steps onto the stage and goes “dry.” He can “see” his lines, yet he cannot utter a word. He skulks off the stage to a falling curtain and some cat calls from the audience. He retreats to his abandoned childhood home by the sea to escape his shame. As an actor, who has spent his life living an imaginary existence in the clothes and character of strangers, he has difficulty separating reality from fantasy. He lives mostly in the past.

Banville used the idea of a retreat in his Booker Prize novel. In The Sea, Max has lost his wife to divorce, and travels to his boyhood home to sort out the ruins of his marriage. Alex retreats to sort out the ruins of his career. Banville’s prose delves into all the minutiae of Alex’s life as well as his deep-seated psychological self-examination.

The use of detail can be overwhelming, but in order to travel through Alex’s life, it becomes necessary to an understanding of how he arrived at the house by the sea. Here is an example as Alex begins to unpack when he arrives at his retreat:

“Things to do, things to do. Store the kitchen supplies, set out my books, my framed photographs, my lucky rabbit’s paw. Too soon it was all done. There was no avoiding upstairs any longer. Grimly I mounted the steps as if I were climbing into the past itself, the years pressing down on me, like a heavier atmosphere. Here is the room looking out on the square that used to be mine. Alex’s room. Dust, and a mildew smell, and droppings on an inside sill where birds had got in through a broken windowpane. Strange, how places, once so intimate, can go neutral under the dust-fall of time. (17)

Whenever, I read Banville, I must have a dictionary close at hand. Every novel helps me add five or six words to my vocabulary. For example, in Eclipse I learned “anaglyptal,” “tannoys,” “verrucas,” “crepuscular,” “sizar,” and “leverets.” I will leave the adventure of a dictionary search to my faithful readers.

Banville writes, “It was that torpid hour of afternoon in summer when all falls silent and even the birds cease their twitterings. At such a time, in such a place, a man might lose his grip on all that he is” (76). Having spent many, many summer days by the ocean, I understand this sentiment entirely. Banville has heightened my desire to get back near the ocean, for night time walks on the beach and lazy fall and spring days reading under an umbrella with the soft breeze in my face. 5 stars

--Chiron, 10/15/11

In Other Rooms, Other Wonders by Daniyal Mueenuddin

The September read for my book club was of a collection of short stories set in Pakistan. For some reason, a flood of books from Central Asia has rushed through publishing over the last few years – The Kite Runner, Two Cups of tea, Reading Lolita in Tehran to name a few. All these books have one thing in common: they demonstrate the difficulty of living that part of the world. I get it. I have seen all the stories about the oppression of women, the hard scrabbling men, women, and children, who have to fight for scraps of food and the tiniest mote of dignity.

One can only hope the “Arab Spring” makes its way to this remote and forbidding corner of the world and allow these people to enter the 20th century – at least! I feel for these people – I really do, but they need to throw off whatever shackles bind them to a primitive and heartless society. I know full well this is much easier said than done, but look at Tunisia, Egypt, Libya, and Syria.

Our own country experiences – as I write -- an uprising fueled by frustration over corporate greed and corruption. I can only hope our movement grows and maintains itself over the winter. I bet the moguls of Wall Street smile every day as winter approaches. I hope they are wrong. I wish I were 40 years younger and could join those brave protestors.

--Chiron, 9/29/11

Vox by Nicholson Baker

Nicholson Baker has a reputation for peculiar novels. The Mezzanine, for example, chronicles a single ride on an escalator between an office and the lobby of an office building. The narrator muses on life, lunch, and the shoe laces he intends to buy on his lunch hour. Room Temperature, chronicles the musings of a new father as he rocks the baby one afternoon. Box of Matches relates thirty days in the life of a text book editor who wakes early every morning, makes a cup of coffee, and lights a fire with a single match. He then reflects on his life. All these slim novels grab hold of the reader. I found it difficult to put any of them down – even for a minute. Fortunately, all are 200 pages or less. Vox, the record of a single phone call between a man in California and a woman in Massachusetts, does not deviate from the rest of Baker’s work.

Sometimes chatty, sometimes serious, and occasionally erotic, the conversation ranges over the lives of two strangers brought together by an ad in a personals column. They share tidbits of their lives then the other will riff on the facts into a fantasy world.

Quoting any of the novel will give some elements away, so I won’t do that. Baker cannot be reproduced; he must be experienced right off the page. Some parts of the conversation are decidedly NC-17, but not too many. Those passages are easy to spot and avoid. For an interesting and quirky detour into the minds of two strangers, Vox fills the bill. (5 stars).

--Chiron, 9/20/11

We the Animals by Justin Torres

Recently, I reviewed a novel I bought solely on the basis of an intriguing cover. That turned out to be an excellent purchase. We the Animals by Justin Torres, on the other hand, intrigued me because of the blurbs by two authors I admire: Michael Cunningham and Marilynne Robinson.

This taut, brief novel tells the story of a Puerto Rican family in Brooklyn: Paps, Ma, and three brothers, Manny, Joel, and the narrator, the youngest of the sons.

Intense, gritty, and sometimes horrific, the story of a rather dysfunctional family held me spellbound for its entire length. Torres captures the dynamics of this family with a brutal realism. A sequel to this novel -- set 20 years later -- will feature the family broken up, and all in therapy or worse.

While I understood what these three boys experienced, I shudder to think of the myriad families across America today living under similar circumstances. I imagine few of these families will ever have the opportunity for a real, safe, life, let alone any kind of therapy to reach that goal.

Torres sprinkles animal references throughout the novel. He describes Paps, as “like an animal, … ruddy and physical and instinctive; his shoulders hulked and curved, and we had each of us, even Ma, sat on them, gone for rides” (45).

Paps and the boys frequently play rather rough. In one scene, Torres writes, “We hit and we kept hitting; we were allowed to be what we were, frightened and vengeful – little animals, clawing at what we needed” (51). Even Ma gets the animal treatment: “Ma choking on words, the croak in her throat,” (72).

One day, the narrator comes home to find his family assembled with his secret journal. Torres writes, “In bold and explicit language I had written fantasies … about what I wanted done to me” (116). Paps says, “I will kill you” (116). Ma, tears streaming down her cheeks, says nothing. Manny and Joel glared. Then, “I could have risen; I believe they would have embraced me. Instead, I behaved like an animal. I tried to rip the skin from their faces, and when I couldn’t, I tried to rip the skin from my own. They held me down on the ground; I bucked and spat and screamed my throat raw. I cursed them: we were, all of us, sons of whores, mongrels” (118).

The narrator is bundled into a car and taken to psychiatric hospital. The last page contains the last chapter, and it brought tears to my eyes.

I revealed more of the plot this time than usual, but that is because the plot is a distant third to the characters and the atmosphere Torres has created. This first novel portends great things from, as Cunningham wrote, “a brilliant, ferocious new voice.” (Jacket). 5 stars

--Chiron, 9/10/11

Soulscapes by Nora Mahon Olivares

Nora Olivares is Professor Emeritus of English at San Antonio College. I met her while grading AP English Literature exams for the Educational Testing Service in Louisville , Kentucky. Among the thousand or so English people who gather every summer for the grading, many of them bring copies of their books to sell. I always try and support my colleagues toiling in the wilderness of words with a purchase or two.

This collection of poetry is uniformly good. Personal photographs add an interesting touch to many of these poignant poems. My favorite, and an excellent example of Olivares’ work, is “Seascape”:

Sitting among the jagged rocks,
I watched some children prodding
jellyfish, determined to collapse
their ivory-gray umbrellas.

“Too young to appreciate the art
of leaving things alone,” I thought
bracing my knees from slipping and
noticing the little bird holding her
tranquil poise on the swaying waves—
with no schooling in the art of confidence,
no self-conscious exhibitionism,
no excuse for the sojourning,
no complaints of passing time,
just some secret knowledge that
waves were meant for riding.

And, though I had not come
for tutoring, I was taken captive by
this scene, a little girl playing
Socrates to my musings. (55)

The simplicity and clarity of this scene recalls the episode in the Nausicca chapter (13) of James Joyce’s great novel, Ulysses. Leopold Bloom stops on a boardwalk and watches a young girl on the rocks, while some younger children play in the sand and surf.



The only drawback in the collection consists of a few poems that seem a bit over wrought. For example, in “Hope (For Dinah)” the opening lines read,

Daddy just left us
piped the four-year old
mustering premature manhood… (11).

Nevertheless, these occasional slips only mildly detract from an enjoyable collection.

Soulscapes opens with another favorite, “Dawn”:

comes like
a flickering candle
in an empty church
surprising me when
I tiptoe bleary-eyed into the sanctuary
of my kitchen to brew
the morning coffee. (1)

A wonderful, relaxing collection of poems to enjoy with a cup of tea on a mild, breezy Saturday, as I just did. (4-1/2 stars)

--Chiron, 9/10/11