Set Free

"To the Lighthouse"

While at camp I read Virginia Woolf's To the Lighthouse. How an English major managed to read so little Woolf as a young person is a mystery. But perhaps she is better read by a person in the 40's anyway. This quote from the dinner party scene spoke to me:

Nothing seemed to have merged. They all sat separate. And the whole of the effort of merging and flowing and creating rested on her. Again she felt, as a fact without hostility, the sterility of men, for if she did not do it nobody would do it, and so, giving herself a little shake that one gives a watch that has stopped, the old familiar pulse began beating, as the watch begins ticking—one, two, three, one, two, three. And so on and so on, she repeated, listening to it, sheltering and fostering the still feeble pulse as one might guard a weak flame with a news-paper. And so then, she concluded, addressing herself by bending silently in his direction to William Bankes—poor man! who had no wife, and no children and dined alone in lodgings except for tonight; and in pity for him, life being now strong enough to bear her on again, she began all this business, as a sailor not without weariness sees the wind fill his sail and yet hardly wants to be off again and thinks how, had the ship sunk, he would have whirled round and round and found rest on the floor of the sea.

How often do I feel the responsibility to keep the pulse going? Much too often, I fear. There have been too many times I have found myself at the head of one table or another, neck quite literally stiffening with the effort required to hold up my Big Giant Head. Perhaps I need to do a little less minding of the collective pulse and a little more caring for the personal. There are many commitments in my professional life that require me to do the former, and I have determined to let them end in their natural course, as soon as possible. It's time to clarify which things really require ME and which simply require SOMEONE. As a painter stands back to gain perspective, I too will seek a vision for the next portion of my life.

These Few Things

We've had a pretty quiet day here, but let me just say these few things:

1) The weather was gorgeous. I enjoyed sitting on my front lawn in a low chair re-reading Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, while Molly enjoyed lying on the lawn chewing a stick and keeping me company.

2) The Princess and I went downtown to the charming and usually crowded shopping area and actually found a parking space on the first pass. We went to a local bookstore and pre-paid for two copies of Harry Potter the Seventh to pick up on Friday night, late. Then we visited a store that sells Philosophy products and came home with a beautiful pink bag full of thing that will make us gorgeous, or so we have been told. We'll at least have nice-smelling hair.

3) I enjoyed talking on the phone with one faraway friend and Google chatting with another.

4) I am thrilled to announce that there is a Thomas' English Muffin with so much fiber it counts as only 1 point on the Flex Plan, and further that it made a good base for a home-made pizza-resembling dinner. I'm also delighted to report that Fat-Free mozzarella cheese is quite edible. I really didn't envy the rest of the family, eating Domino's.

5) No, really. I mean it!

6) Further, I am delighted to report that the makers use the s' in the old-fashioned way. That pleases me.

7) On a more serious note, I am grateful for the reflections I read yesterday and today on The Good Samaritan, particularly Milton's. Somehow I finally got the message that I don't need to live in the ditch, half dead, anymore, where some past experiences are concerned, although there is also the uncomfortable truth about needing to love the people connected to them.

8) Finally, although he drove to a neighboring state and climbed a mountain and returned all in the same day, Pure Luck kindly accompanied me on a 40 or so minute walk. We just went a little more slowly than usual.

Friday Five: Books, Books, Books

As posted by Sally at RevGalBlogPals:

I've just returned from a meeting in Cambridge so I'm posting this late here in the UK (it is 3:45pm).. because I took the opportunity of a free afternoon in Cambridge's wonderful book shops... I only bought a few- and they were on sale- very restrained for me!!!

So with my head full of books I've seen and a long wish list in my mind, I bring you a Friday Five on books!!!

1. Fiction what kind, detective novels, historical stuff, thrillers, romance????

Classic fiction (love Jane Austen), modern day mysteries (P.D. James, Elizabeth George) and I do read contemporary novels along a wide spectrum, usually when someone else recommends them. It's been a long time since I read a romance novel, although I became an expert on which were naughty and which were not while working on the Bookmobile and choosing titles for homebound library patrons.

2. When you get a really good book do you read it all in one chunk or savour it slowly?

I'm getting better at savoring. Maybe it's just because I can't stay up late as easily anymore.

3. Is there a book you keep returning to and why?

I re-read Jane Austen with some frequency, particularly Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility and Mansfield Park. I suppose that not unlike Narnia, they represent a fantasy time and place to me, and I like to go there.

4. Apart from the Bible which non-fiction book has influenced you the most?

Rabbi Kushner's "When Bad Things Happen to Good People" helped me put my pieces back together after a devastating pregnancy loss. (I won't get into an argument here about the fictional vs. non-fictional nature of the Bible...)

5. Describe a perfect place to read. ( could be anywhere!!!)

I love to read on my super-comfortable bed, with loads of pillows, an open window and a breeze blowing.

How about you?

A Disappointing Book

Do you ever read a book you really wanted to love, only to find it a great disappointment?

I'm sorry to say Susan Cheever's "American Bloomsbury" falls into that category.

As a lover of Louisa May Alcott, I looked forward to this book about the community of Concord, Massachusetts, and learning more about Alcott's relationships with Thoreau and Emerson, about her father, Bronson, and about the connection of Hawthorne and Margaret Fuller to the rest.

What I got was a book crying out for the firm but loving hand of an editor, a "Come to Jesus" meeting for an author who had a sort of interesting idea that did not read as well as it imagined. (EditorMom, I thought of you often and wished a person with your gifts could have wrangled her manuscript!)

Repetitive and choppy, the book does no service to its author or its subjects. Many of the very brief chapters read as if Cheever made notes on 3 by 5 cards or on sticky notes and simply arranged them without thought to building a bridge between ideas or expanding on things that deserved more depth of exploration.

Many chapters of making these odd ducks friendly and admirable to the audience are followed by a lengthy excursus on their love for John Brown, a love which Cheever condemns, and suddenly we have a different book, or really what could have been a long essay about the dangerous naïveté of a group of vegetarian New Englanders and their infatuation with a martyr to the cause of liberating the slaves (which seems to be her conclusion). But a minute later we are right back to the declarative "post-it" style of writing.

Finally, as much as I love "Little Women," how can one make the case that it was the first novel to elevate the domestic sphere? Did Cheever miss the part in school about Jane Austen?

If you have read the book, I would love to hear your thoughts.

Ruined by Reading

I'm re-reading The Mists of Avalon.
I really don't want to do anything else.
Do I dare put it in my bag for work, dare to take half an hour to read at lunchtime?
What would you do?

Did I Ever Tell You You're My Hero?

Some of you may remember sitting in your mother's laps, or snuggling up next to your dad, listening to them read to you.

But my most vivid memories of being reading to are not of the people in my house, or even the children's librarian at Jane Austen's Village Public Library. My most vivid memories involve pictures on a screen and the voice of Captain Kangaroo.

Just remembering the jingly theme song for his show brings a smile to my face.  I can remember the journey into The Treasure House, the not-so-hilarious knock knock jokes, the schemes of Bunny Rabbit and the hi-jinks of Mr. Moose, the charm of Mr. Green Jeans and the grace of Dancing Bear.

But most of all I remember Captain Kangaroo reading to me.

He read "Caps for Sale" and "Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel" and "The Little House" and "Make Way for Ducklings" and the book that still brings tears to my eyes, "The Little Red Lighthouse and the Great Grey Bridge."

The image in these stories are burned into me. I know from reading them that unlikely things can really happen, that those who feel they are less than useful can prove to have a purpose, that the small are not without their effectiveness, value and power.

In January of 1972, Captain Kangaroo came to Washington, DC, to film location footage for "Americana Week." My father, a Senator from Virginia, was considered to be a Jeffersonian Democrat, and he was invited to accompany the Captain to the Jefferson Memorial. I was 10, and in the 5th grade, but my father knew how fond I was of the Captain and arranged for me to go along. (My younger brother declined, to my relieved delight!)

I knew by then that the Captain was an actor, and I enjoyed talking with him about his costume. He told me he had worn a wig until he was old enough to have his own long grey hair. In honor of the theme, he was wearing a red tie with his white shirt and blue jacket, and even his watchband was red, white and blue! Charlie MacDowell, who wrote about Washington for the Richmond Times-Dispatch and was a friend of my father's, came along, too, and he reported that I gloomily commented, "And *I* have to watch you in black and white!"

I told the Captain that I didn't much like school and really preferred spending the day with him, although we were outside and the weather was as cold and as grey as his hair. He said kindly, "It gets better, Songbird. It gets better."

Somewhere I have a picture of us standing there together, my daddy, Captain Kangaroo and me in a little girl's raincoat, a funny expression on my face. But it is the picture in my heart that means more to me today, of a kind man who took the time to pay attention to an unhappy little girl, a kind man who brought Curious George and Ping the Duck and Ferdinand the Bull alive for me and so many other children.

The Mermaid Hair

As I posted last year, I really didn't like The Mermaid Chair.

So there was no good reason for watching even a minute of the Lifetime TV movie version with Kim Basinger as the irritating heroine. But I found myself captivated by her hair. It was weirdly spiral-curly and straight at the same time. Do you think it's possible they thought the curls looked like seaweed?

As it turns out, it is quite possible to make this book worse. The music was incredibly, unbearably saccharine. Bleh.

Also, the monk? I'm sure the actor is a perfectly nice guy, but I wasn't buying the attraction.

The husband was much cuter. But then I've always liked Bruce Greenwood, even when he played that unpleasant doctor on St. Elsewhere.

If you had to pick an actor to play an irresistible monk, who would it be?

Books, Books, Books

1. One Book That Changed Your Life -- When Bad Things Happen to Good People, by Rabbi Harold Kushner. I read it in 1992, during the long sad summer after the loss described in my Ordinary Time reflection for today. I thought in terms of rewards and punishments; what had I done to make God hurt me this way? On down the road of grief I went, until I reached the signpost marked "Anger," and I wanted to turn away from a God who was so capricious. Then someone gave me Kushner's book, and I found myself walking on a different road.

2. One Book That You've Read More Than Once -- This would be a long list, but I just finished re-reading Jane Austen's Emma, so we'll use that one.

3. One Book You'd Want on a Desert Island -- Hmm. I guess I would want a Bible, but I wouldn't mind having a Riverside Shakespeare, too.

4. One Book That Made You Laugh -- But Not the Hippopotamus. I must have read that book to #1 Son six million times, and it still makes me laugh!

5. One Book That Made You Cry -- I cry easily. But my saddest memory of crying over a book has to be the death of Jack, the brindle bulldog, in Laura Ingalls Wilder's By the Shores of Silver Lake. I almost made myself sick crying over Jack, and I didn't even like dogs then. My mother promptly forbade the reading of books about animals.

6. One Book You Wish Had Been Written -- How to Go to Seminary with Three Children and No Husband Without Losing Your Mind. (I had to make it up as I went along.)

7. One Book That You Wish Had Never Been Written -- I'm copying Questing Parson on this one. Revelation. It has to be the most misused book of the Bible, by far.

8. One Book You're Currently Reading -- American Gospel: God, the Founding Fathers, and the Making of a Nation, a new book by Jon Meacham, who writes about religion for Newsweek. I highly recommend it, although I wish he were on the inclusive language train.

9. One Book You've Been Meaning to Read -- One? Have you seen my Summer Reading List in the sidebar? Let's say Ruined by Reading, which I've been meaning to read for years.

10. I'm supposed to tag five people. I always hate to do this. What if they don't notice I've tagged them? But here goes: will smama, reverendmother, Phantom Scribbler, NotShyChiRev and, hey, Pure Luck!!

Good Books Gone Bad

In the past few weeks, #1 Son and I have watched two film versions of The Great Gatsby from Netflix. And both times we have been sorely disappointed in the interpretations and adaptations of a book we both love. The Redford/Farrow version was excruciatingly slow; did they forget the story is a novella? Everything had to be BIG, befitting the fame of the stars, I suppose. All the settings screamed Hollywood rather than Long Island, particularly Gatsby's pool, which seemed to bear no physical relation to the rest of his house. Yes, we're picky. We did love Sam Waterston as Nick Carraway. And Bruce Dern was a revelation to #1 Son. But, oh my glory, do they stretch the story out as far as possible!

The more recent version (starring Paul Rudd, Toby Stephens, Martin Donovan and Mira Sorvino as a somewhat unlikely Daisy, in my opinion) had better settings, in my opinion, and more of Fitzgerald's beautiful words being spoken in Paul Rudd's (Nick) voice-overs. But the music was horrific, and we got no sense that Nick ever even liked Gatsby, taking away from the moment, so poignant in the earlier film, when Nick calls out, "You're worth the whole damn bunch of them!"

We agreed that some books really ought not be made into films. I wondered if dramatizing Gatsby might be a good Senior Thesis project for our English and Theatre double major, but we agreed, too, that the crucial car-as-plot-point might be difficult to stage fittingly.

Meanwhile, The Princess and I have been exploring versions of Emma. I am a longtime Jane Austen aficionado, and I was delighted when The Princess' interest was sparked by the recent film of Pride & Prejudice. But how can she help it? Not only is her mother a devotee, but her paternal grandmother was an active member of the Jane Austen society, and the inscription on Miss Austen's grave marker was a reading at her memorial service.

We began with the A&E version, starring Kate Beckinsale. I found this adaptation very satisfactory. Beckinsale had the right look, the right tone and a variety of shades in her performance. Highbury was much as I have pictured it. The supporting characters were fine, especially Samantha Morton as Miss Harriet Smith. When Mr. Knightley delivered his critique after Emma insulted Miss Bates (the extraordinary Prunella Scales), The Princess and I were stung, too! ("That was badly done, Emma! Badly done!!")

Mr. Knightley was our favorite portrayal in our second Emma, the feature film starring Gwyneth Paltrow. As played by Jeremy Northam, he had a sense of humor not evident in Mark Strong's Knightley. Should it be there? I'm re-reading the book in hopes of making a judgment. Worst casting choice by far: Toni Collette as Harriet Smith.

What is your experience with books gone wrong on film? Could you name one you wish you had never seen? Or an adaptation that came as a pleasant surprise? Use the comments here to answer, or link back to your blog if you feel so moved.

Today

Today, while the blossoms still cling to the vine
I'll taste your strawberries, I'll drink your sweet wine
A million tomorrows shall all pass away
'ere I forget all the joy that is mine, today.

We are working very hard around here at finding the joy despite the seemingly neverending rain, so I thought I would make a list of a few joyful things in my life today.

First, I have more yarn than I know what to do with, although less than some famous stashers. At the moment I have three projects on the needles: a baby-sized Prayer Shawl for Small Church's Prayer Shawl Ministry, which we are hoping to expand to include addicted infants being treated at the local hospital; a shawl for The Princess made with the yarn I purchased in New Orleans in January; and a pair of socks using the eight-stitch basket weave pattern in Sensational Knitted Socks and some really pretty KnitPicks Essential Sock Yarn in Cocoa.

Second, I saw two wonderful movies yesterday. In the afternoon, the kids and I went to see "A Prairie Home Companion." It's only playing at one theatre in the area, with about 130 seats available, and the theatre was packed with people who were, well, let's just say The Princess leaned over and whispered, "Everyone here is really old, Mom." The music was wonderful, the plot eccentric, the theology intriguing and the jokes by the cowboys exceptionally bad and hilarious. Later, #1 Son and I watched "Capote," with its brilliant performance by Philip Seymour Hoffman. I guess now we will have to read "In Cold Blood." That will add another book to my summer reading list, which you may find in the sidebar. Book #1 was disappointing, but the next book is great.

Which brings me to the third joy: "Leaving Church," by Barbara Brown Taylor. Clergy friends, if you don't have it yet, get a copy. And then let's all talk about it.

Fourth, we are planning what I hope will be a wonderful and exciting trip to England and Scotland in August. I spent time today booking accomodations. It's beginning to feel real! #1 Son will be performing at The Edinburgh Fringe Festival, and we will have a chance to see him in the play, meet Kathryn and, I hope, Sally, and visit some places I have always wanted to see but did not on my other trips to the U.K.

Fifthly, #2 Son received some exciting news. Remember the day his clarinet failed him? I guess his sang froid impressed Dr. Conductor, and his playing must have, too. When the letter came confirming his place in City By the Sea Youth Wind Ensemble, it also announced that he had been chosen as a member of City By the Sea Youth Symphony Orchestra. We had to read the letter about four times to believe it. Only two clarinets from CBtSYWE are chosen for CBtSYSO, the principal and the first runner-up (whatever that may be called). To go from being the 4th chair 2nd Clarinet to a 1st Clarinet is hugely exciting for #2 Son!! Also a little scary.

And finally, tomorrow is a big day at Small Church. Two women who have just begun a ministry to the homeless in City By the Sea are coming to preach and talk to us about becoming their sponsoring church. It has been my prayer that Small Church might find some further local outreach that people would really feel called to support, lots of people and not just the usual few. Nine lay leaders met with the two women recently and all felt the tingle and the pull that I had felt upon first meeting them. Now we'll see how the rest of the church feels!

I, meanwhile, will be covering for Rev Fun and preaching in the afternoon for his folks. My sermon is written and my Power Point prepared, so I will not need to participate in the Saturday Night Preacher's Club this week. Phew!

I can't be contented with yesterday's glory
I can't live on promises winter to spring
Today is my moment, now is my story
I'll laugh and I'll cry and I'll sing.

RevGal Friday Five: Winter Reading

Every year at Christmas, I look forward to new books. I’ve already enjoyed a few and still have more on the bedside table to carry me through the winter. Here, then, are five questions about Winter Reading.

1. If you received books as holiday presents, how many and what were they?
It was a disappointing year on the book front, as I had hinted about several titles, which family members sought, but did not find. #1 Son found a book that I am very much looking forward to reading about Paul, which is pictured in the sidebar.

2. Did you buy any for yourself, and if so what are the titles?
I took my Christmas check from the church's nursery school to the bookstore! I came away with the other books in my sidebar.

3. Have you read any of them yet? What’s next on your list?
I've been enjoying both books of poetry (Heaney and Oliver). #1 Son loaned me Son of a Witch, by Gregory Maguire, and that's going to leapfrog over the other fiction to be read first, so we can talk about it.

4. Do you have a favorite place to read a new book? And does the weather have an impact on that choice?

I like to read on the living room couch. Whatever the weather, I like my legs covered if I'm lying down to read. We have a fleece throw on the couch for that purpose. The problem with reading there is the potential for interruption, so I'm often found reading in bed (see below.)

5. Does reading in bed make you sleepy?

Yes. But I do read there. I probably read better there, in fact, since it is quieter, right up until the moment I fall asleep.

This meme is for everyone; no need to be a RevGalBlogPal to play. Leave a note here in the comments and I will come and read your answers!

RevGal's Friday Five: Kiddie Lit Edition

It’s a Children’s Literature Friday Five, Pals, in honor of the opening today of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.

1) Earliest book you remember (read to you or by you)--I think it's probably The Little Rabbit Who Wanted Red Wings, a gift from my darling godmother, Maggie. My older cousin remembers that I would sit with a book all the time, "reading" to myself, and this was one of my favorites. The theme of the book is that being your true self is what really matters in life.

2) Picture Book you would like to climb into--Then it would have been Curious George Rides a Bike. I wanted to go with him when he delivered the newspapers and folded them into boats and sent them down the stream. We folded a lot of newspapers into hats and boats after I borrowed that one from the library!!

3) Favorite series of books (then or now)--That's a close one, so I'll name two. I had equal love for the Little House books and The Chronicles of Narnia. I've re-read them both numerous times as an adult, both with and without my children.

When we were first getting serious, Pure Luck wanted to read The Hobbit to me, and eventually The Lord of the Rings, too. I love those very much now, too.
And of course we are all quite fond of Harry Potter, the inspiration for this meme.

4) Character you would most like to meet--I think Aslan. Maybe he could explain a few things. Except that he's not a tame lion, so he might not bother.

5) Last childhood book you re-read (for yourself or to someone)--In the re-read category it would be C.S. Lewis' The Last Battle, which is still underway as part of our read-aloud of the Narnia books (my series to share with Pure Luck, who never read them as a child). We had it with us on a car trip and someone who shall remain nameless slipped it into a pocket on the back of the passenger seat, where someone else (me) didn't find it again for a long, long time. I don't have as much voice these days for reading aloud, but I'm hoping we'll finish it this winter.

A Really, Really Good Book

#1 Son (and by the way, if you're reading this? Call home, okay?) and I suggest a lot of books to one another. As the mother, I started doing this when he was a wee little thing. He was an only child until he was four years and 8 months old--the era to which he refers as the best years--and had most of my attention. We did a lot of reading together. He has the good fortune for an actor to have an excellent memory (except for returning my phone call about when he can come home for Christmas, so we can plan a family event) of everything he has read. I can reference a children's book in the subtlest fashion, and he recognizes it immediately.

He's also great at remembering the characters and plot lines in complicated books, which I hope is serving him well in the Russian lit class he is taking this fall.

There is nothing like a really, really good book on a gloomy day. A couple of years ago, #1 Son suggested that I read "A Game of Thrones," by George R.R. Martin, mostly because he loved it and wanted to talk about it with someone. As it turned out, Pure Luck was a fan, and #2 Son and I read the three books in the series that summer. Two years later, the 4th book is finally available. You may notice that in my sidebar the list of Books I'm Reading shrank to one today. That is because I will not deceive myself into thinking that I will be reading a single other thing until I finish Martin's newest, "A Feast for Crows." I am a couple of weeks behind my son; he ordered a copy from Amazon UK. But today I went to the bookstore and got my copy, came home and ran a bubble bath, and started reading.

Have I mentioned that working is very inconvenient when you have a really, really good book to read?

Friends, what is the last book you could not put down without an extreme act of will?

Housekeeping

Friends, if you haven't read this older book of Marilynne Robinson's, please do, because I have a selfish need to talk about it.
If you have read it, please share thoughts in the Comments box (and those who haven't read it be warned there will likely be Spoilers).

Rain Delay

Our Blogger Meet-Up scheduled for today is the victim of a Rain Delay, I'm sorry to say. Check this space later in the week to find out whether we get to visit with Phantom Scribbler and her family. For me this means my Reading Week is beginning a day early. I'm planning to finish two books I've already started and then to move on to a couple of books that have been on my work pile this past year but haven't made it into my hands, other than to be moved from a desk to a table to a shelf. The books are: The Name of the Rose, Umberto Eco--yes, yes, it's fiction, but it *is* theological! And it's been in progress for far too long, most embarassing. The Godbearing Life: The Art of Soul Tending for Youth Ministry, Kenda Creasy Dean--I'll be running a Confirmation class this year along with a friend who is pastor of a new church start, bringing our two fairly small groups of kids together. Next week I'll be taking a closer look at the curriculum for the class, but this week I just want to reflect on the non-curricular piece of youth ministry. The Art of Forgiving, Lewis Smedes--this is on my half-finished pile; I put it aside a few months ago because I found each chapter to be like an entire book in terms of how it moved me. Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith, Anne LaMott--I've been saving this one up! And there is a book on pastoral care at the office, which I hope to dip into, but I can't come up with the exact title at the moment. During the week I'll check in and let you know how it's going! I can't seem to get these books I put on my All Consuming list a long time ago to come back to the top, which is a bummer. It would be nice to have them all in the sidebar and then watch them disappear as I finish them! I also have to carve out time to write a sermon for Sunday. I find preaching after vacation to be *very* challenging; I lose my groove, and I don't get it back the way Stella did! The good news is I'll be meeting with my lectionary group tomorrow, and that will help me get started. Off to read!

Just a little more about Harry Potter

The discussion of Harry Potter at Phantom's is incredibly lively; I commend it to my readers who have finished the book.

In my sermon yesterday, I made some reference to Harry Potter. If anyone is interested, you may follow the link in the sidebar to Small Church's blog.

I didn't have a chance to discuss the book with #1 Son until late last night; so frustrating! But at least there were blog discussion threads.

I'm realizing I really need to re-read Books 3, 4 and 5. So much for my grown-up pile of summer reading!

Harry Potter Update--updated!!

There are four of us in the house right now. #1 Son has gone to his summer job, and #2 Son has returned triumphantly from Jazz Camp after turning in a fabulous clarinet solo on "Bemsha Swing," a piece by Thelonius Monk. Into his hands his brother has commended the boys' copy of Harry Potter. The Princess is reading the girls' copy. Pure Luck is finishing Order of the Phoenix.

I am the only one with no Harry Potter!!!!

It may sound unfair to local 301 of the Book-Buying Mothers Union, but in fact I spent a sleepless night and early-rising morning reading it before we left for Jazz Camp, and I am on page 329. (Speed-reading #1 Son got to page 411. He also slept, the stinker.)

So far, so good.

On the other hand, I am still on page 1 of my sermon.

That's not so good.

I think I'll take a little nap.

UPDATE:
I finished the book around 8:30. If this suggests to you that no nap was taken and the sermon remains incomplete, you would be very intelligent and logical, and the Sorting Hat would place you in Ravenclaw, where I would never fit in with my impulsive behaviors...

technorati tag harry potter

A Few Friday Night Thoughts

1) I wonder if Rehnquist is hanging on because he can't bear the thought of his replacement being named by Bush? Although I disagree with him in more areas than can easily be measured, he is a person of intellect and character. My family spent some time with his in the summer of 1979, when then-Justice Rehnquist and my father were on the faculty of the Salzburg Seminar together. He was gruff and cranky then, too, with a quirky sense of humor. I wasn't the least bit surprised that he taunted the reporters last week by saying, when questioned about retirement rumors, "That's for me to know and you to find out!" As to his ability to stick with work in the face of illness, the man has lived with incredible back pain for many, many years. The summer we were in Austria, he had to "walk" across the ocean, unable to sit down on the plane at all. He is a determined old cuss. I keep hearing people say he can't last to the end of this administration; it wouldn't surprise me in the least if he did.

2) Could Jon Stewart be much funnier? If you haven't been watching The Daily Show, make a point of tuning in soon. His education at my alma mater, the College of Knowledge in Virginia, is no doubt a factor in his brilliance. (I wonder if he attended more classes than I did? I played a lot of Bridge.)

3) Tomorrow I won't be blogging incessantly. I'll be travelling to a concert at Maine Jazz Camp, a terrific camp for young musicians. We've had one e-mail from #2 Son, who said he was having a great time. The Princess and I will be driving there with The Father of My Children. We do a lot of these family things together, but this will be by far the longest car trip I've taken with him since we divorced in 1997. It's always a little odd to go somewhere with him.

4) It's 10:01 p.m. Two hours until Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. If I have to pick up The Princess and TFoMC at 8 a.m., how late can I afford to stay up reading?

5) How lame is Haloscan? A prize will be awarded to the poster with the most vivid or satisfying description.

A Harry Potter Plan

Friends, I know you will all be relieved to hear that we have a Harry Potter plan for this Five Reader Household.

A determination has been made that we will purchase two (2) copies of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. This purchase will occur shortly after midnight tonight. #1 Son is taking my car to work bussing tables at Hideously Expensive Delicious Restaurant. After work, he will come home to pick me up and we will go together to an Independent Bookstore, where we will no doubt pay more than those buying Harry Potter at Amazon or Borders, but we will feel good about it. (Unless they run out of copies, in which case we will drive straight to Borders, all Gryffindorian nobility having been run out of town by Slytherin-like greedy selfishness.)

Copy #1 will be the Girls' Copy. The Princess and I will take turns reading it, using our new bookmarks to mark our spots. We are women and will cooperate nicely, I feel sure. While she reads, I will sit patiently on the couch knitting her Gryffindor scarf. If not, the bathroom door has a lock and I will live in there until I finish reading it.

Copy #2 will be the Boys' Copy. Since #2 Son is at Jazz Camp and won't be home until late tomorrow afternoon, #1 Son gets first crack at it. When he goes to work, #2 Son gets it. Pure Luck is still reading Order of the Phoenix, so he's in no great rush.

Doesn't this sound better than four people arguing over who gets to read it first?

Sorting things out

I'm
a Gryffindor!

We've been sorting ourselves out over at reverendmother's, where the Comments work, unlike here. At first I thought no one loved me anymore except Mindy, but then I realized the fault was all Haloscan's.

I am knitting a Gryffindor scarf (from the first movie) for The Princess, who is planning to be Hermione for Halloween. So far I have cast on, knitted one stripe, decided it was too wide, unravelled the whole thing, cast on again and knitted two-and-a-half stripes. There are nineteen, so I have a ways to go. And then there's fringe, but we won't speak of it just now.

All five members of our family are looking forward to reading Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. We didn't pre-order it; I'm hoping to stay up late and buy it just after midnight. There is some discussion about buying two copies. I think the fastest readers should get first crack at it, don't you?

The Mermaid Chair

I just finished Sue Monk Kidd's most recent book, The Mermaid Chair. I bought it in early May and had studiously avoided reading any reviews until I had a chance to dive into the book myself. (If you have read it you will likely groan at the use of the word "dive.")

About halfway through, I told Pure Luck that I would really like to smack the narrator. That feeling did not abate.

I'm disappointed in the book, especially since her previous novel, The Secret Life of Bees, was so appealing. I loved the relationships between the African-American sisters and the white girl; I thought SMK's use of a Black Madonna and exploration of a feminine take on Christianity was intriguing and thought-provoking; I must admit to skimming through some of the beekeeping stuff; and I hated all the parts that had to do with anyone's romance, thinking they were the least well-written or conceived.

In Mermaid, we get, once again, a favorable friendship between African-American and white women (with the ratios reversed this time); we learn about the Barrier Islands, the Gullah culture and the flora and the fauna (in better proportion to the rest of the narrative, perhaps, than the beekeeping); we have another exploration of Catholicism, mixed with mythology this time; and we get a weakly written romance. Unfortunately, this time the romance is the main course, not the side dish.

I would be happy to talk about the book in more detail in the comments, if anyone else would like to do so, but will say no more about the story here to avoid ruining it for anyone who still might like to read it.

That Book Meme

Waterfall and Quotidian Grace both tagged me, so here goes:

1. Number of books I own.

In the neighborhood of 1500, if you include the children's books, which I was collecting even before I had children of my own. A good 500 of those are at the office.

2. The last book I bought.

Housekeeping, by Marilynne Robinson, arrived from Amazon just the other day. I ordered it after several positive recommendations

3. The last book that I read.

Gilead, by Marilynne Robinson, an absolutely marvelous book. See my earlier post for more.

4. Books that mean a lot to me.

Well, there's The Bible, of course. I have many, many, despite the doubts of my evangelical neighbor.
(Scroll down to "An Easter Story.")

Someone gave me a white leather KJV as a christening present. I drew on it with a red crayon, already a closet bad girl.

My dad brought me a Bethlehem mother-of-pearl covered New Testament when I was about 7 or 8. That was the first Bible I remember reading myself, and it is still on my dresser. My favorite passage then and now: "Consider the lilies of the field how they grow. They toil not, neither do they spin. And yet I say unto you, that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed as one of these. Wherefore if God so clothe the grass of the field, which today is and tomorrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clother you, O ye of little faith?" (Matthew 6:28-30) Isn't that the perfect life passage for a woman prone to anxiety?

My grandmother contributed a copy of Good News for Modern Man, which I dog-eared as a young adolescent. I just read on a conservative website that "The popularity of the Today's English Version is frightful in light of its perverted renderings of key passages dealing with Christ's deity, the inspiration and preservation of Scripture, the blood atonement, and many other doctrines."
I guess we know who to blame now for my various heresies, apostasies and general liberalism (or postmodern emergency, whatever all that means). Poor Grandma Galli would be scandalized.

Other special books:

The Narnia series; my special favorite was and is The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, but I love them all. The boxed set I own has vivid 1970's colors on the jackets, but at least the illustrations are those of Pauline Baynes.

Most of Jane Austen's works, especially Pride and Prejudice, a great escape in times of trial. Gosh, I love that Mr. Darcy! (even before seeing him played by that steamy Colin Firth)

The Lord of the Rings, read aloud to me by Pure Luck while we were courting.

When Bad Things Happen to Good People, placed in my hands by I-don't-know-who, when I was going through the Worst Thing that ever happened to me, in 1992. It was theologically liberating and hugely comforting, if only in the sense that it let me know other people wondered why God seemed to have abandoned them for no apparent fault of their own. I had grown up with the idea that being good meant God would stick with you, and I really believed I had been good!!! (Or else I was the worst person ever, depending on the day of the week, and unworthy of being forgiven.) Anyway, Rabbi Kushner put things in a helpful perspective and I began to rebuild my understanding of God. So he's right there with Good News for Modern Whoevers on the list of corrupting theological influences...

The Country Bunny and the Little Gold Shoes, a feminist Easter fable that spurred me on at the strangest times, becoming my personal mythological text when I was in Jungian analysis.

D'Aulaire's Book of Greek Myths, the book that gave me a fascination with centaurs, Persephone and Hades, among other things.

The Joy of Sex
Okay, just kidding, but I did spend an intense evening reading it with a girlfriend while helping her babysit back in 10th grade. It was not the version updated and revised for the 21st century! Nor was it one of the new specialty versions. But, wow! Was my face red!! My friend was the President of the Episcopal Young Churchmen and later married an Episcopal priest, and I was a good little Southern Baptist girl who, well you know how I turned out.

5. Tag 5 other bloggers.

Oh, I don't know. Hasn't everyone done it already? Friday Mom, have you? PPB? Phantom? reverendmother? revmom?

A Novel Conclusion

It's been quite humid here in the City by the Sea for the past few days. Since we're not used to it, and have limited air-conditioning, sleeping can be a challenge. Sometimes a fan helps; sometimes it just makes things worse.

Thursday night I managed to go to sleep a little early, but woke up again. And calling to me from my bedside table was Gilead. I had about 25 pages to go. I considered taking it downstairs, but I also felt a little hungry and didn't want to risk sabotaging my good efforts on the "Eat No Crap" food plan.

I took the book into the bathroom. That bought me a few pages of seated reading. I still didn't want to go downstairs, and I really didn't want to stop reading.

About ten minutes later, I heard the sounds of my husband lumbering around like a bear waking up from a long winter's nap. He came out into the hall blinking against the light. At first he didn't notice me standing there, leaning against the bathroom counter. It's not a very big hall; when would he see me?

He got to the doorway and did a double-take. "What are you doing?!?"

"Just finishing my book," I said, as I slipped out into the hall and sat down on the top step.

(For those of you preaching the lectionary, it is interesting to note that Gilead includes some material on Hagar and Ishmael, coming up next Sunday. It really is a marvelous book. On to The Mermaid Chair!!)

Gilead

Friday Mom asked a while ago what I thought of Marilynne Robinson's novel, Gilead. I had to admit with some chagrin that although it's in my sidebar I hadn't really gotten started on it. But yesterday, while sitting at the allergist's office with #1 Son for more than 6 hours, I read a little more than half. It's a beautiful, beautiful book. The central character is an old Congregational minister, son and grandson of ministers. He reflects on life and death and the sacraments and heaven and love and war and peace in a letter written to his late-in-life son. I highly recommend it, especially for those of us who reflect all the time on just the same topics.

Reading Meme

Some questions about reading, discovered at Geeky Mom, but originated by PsychoKitty: If you had to pick five fictional literary characters who would best embody you (in some aspect, either now or in the past), who would you choose?

Laura Ingalls
Lucy Pevensie
Jane Eyre
Mrs. Murry (Wrinkle in Time)
The Country Bunny (before and after the Little Gold Shoes)

Which five books (any genre) have had the greatest influence on you?

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe
The Lord of the Rings
Forgive and Forget
An Adopted Woman
The Diary of a Young Girl (Anne Frank)

What is your favorite commonly censored book?

To Kill a Mockingbird

If you would ever burn a book (God forbid), which book would it be? Why?

When I was about 12, my grandmother gave me a series of so-called Christian books about a girl named Peggy. They are long gone, but if I had them, I would enjoy destroying them. They made me feel horribly guilty. Peggy was converted by a group of "Christians" who objected to going to the movies. The books were very weird. When I told my mother why I didn't like them (although they were a gift from her mother), she said, "Don't read them!"

Are you a monogamous reader, or do you like to read around?

I’m a promiscuous reader.

Last one, and be honest: Do you skip ahead to the ending?

I try not to. But sometimes I am a naughty girl.

Ouch! The Stick at Last

Finally, someone struck me!
You're stuck inside Fahrenheit 451, which book do you want to be?
The Voyage of the Dawn Treader--I think it's my favorite book of all time. I want to be Lucy. I want to know Reepicheep. It's an adventure and it's spiritual, and most of all it has Aslan and Dufflepuds.

Have you ever had a crush on a fictional character?
While I share the appreciation for Calvin O'Keefe noted by some of my blogging friends, my all-time literary crush is Mr. Darcy in Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice. That's the guy I would like to have pin me against the wall and kiss me. It's the cool, smoldering ones I dig. (Have I said too much?)

The last book you bought is:
It's not here yet, but I just ordered At Knit's End: Meditations for Women Who Knit Too Much, by Stephanie Pearl-McPhee, otherwise known as The Yarn Harlot.

The last book you read:
Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West, by Gregory Maguire

What are you currently reading?
The Art of Forgiveness, by Lewis Smedes
New and Selected Poems, Volume One, by Mary Oliver
The Pilot's Wife, by Anita Shreve

Five books you would take to a deserted island:

The Bible, preferably the Harper Collins Study Bible NRSV
The Riverside Shakespeare
The Chronicles of Narnia (if I can count this as one.)
The Lord of the Rings
and if not a Complete Jane Austen, then Pride and Prejudice.

Now that my stick envy is relieved, I pass this to:
Romy
and Dabney
and ChurchGal
Have fun!
and

Blow, Blow, Thou Winter Wind

Here's what's funny. #1 Son is on Spring Break. He is in Non-Contiguous New England State and has one more play rehearsal tomorrow, then will be coming home. Where he is, the snow fell horizontally today. In City By the Sea, the wind is whipping around our house so fiercely that I would not be surprised to wake up in Oz tomorrow morning. But perhaps that's the effect of reading Wicked...

My friends with little children, your day for reading novels will come again. The Little Princess has been home with a cough, and we have spent parts of the last two days curled up on either end of the sofa, reading. While I wept over The Lovely Bones and then moved on to the story of Elphaba, she enjoyed Because of Winn Dixie. As a little girl, I always had my nose in a book, long before I could read them to myself. My daughter was slower to find joy in it, but now that she does, it is thrilling for both of us. Laura Ingalls Wilder and Lucy Pevensie and Sara Crewe are now our mutual friends. Next on her list: Mary Lennox. I can hardly wait to talk to her about Colin and Dickon and the door long unused.

I find reading fiction, which I seldom did in my extended years of seminary, to be incredibly expansive. It is so easy to let the walls of my world draw in, shutting out everything but church and family. Even my friends have a hard time getting through because I am so intent on being pastor, wife and mom. A good book blows the walls right off like a tornado. Or a raging blizzard.

Blow, blow, thou winter wind, and bring us a snow day tomorrow! I need to finish my book!!

Blogging with Sam

Sam is our almost-two-year-old Bernese Mountain Dog, 115 pounds of fluffy love. This morning he had surgery to remedy an OCD lesion on his right shoulder, and I am typing this from his "recovery room," a futon mattress on the floor in my husband's office.

Although mild OCD runs in the family, Sam is not Obsessive Compulsive Dog. He has something called Osteochondritis Dessicans, in which "cartilage loses some nutrient delivery either before or after misaligned stresses (with some obscure genetic origins) result in a fissure." (All credit is due to http://devinefarm.net/health/joints.htm.)

I like to say the things that are wrong with me have some obscure genetic origins, and sometimes it's even true.

Sam is pretty doped up at the moment. Thank heaven he doesn't have to wear one of those torture devices known as an "Elizabethean collar." Last time we had one in the house it was on Molly, and Sam spent ten days trying to liberate her from its crutches. When wearing one himself, he alternates between catatonic and head-bangeriffic.

For the next ten days or so, it's going to pretty dull for Sam. We will try to amuse him with toys, and, who knows? Maybe he'll learn to type his own entry on a keyboard with exceptionally large keys. (To get this, you will absolutely have to read my new favorite book, The Dogs of Babel.)

Anxiety vs. Fear

At my study group the other day, a colleague suggested that fear is a response to the known or the actual, while anxiety is negative anticipation of the unknown or the unreal. I'm not sure I agree that there is such a distinct difference. This topic also came up on a friend's blog, and I'm stealing here from my response to her post. She paraphrased Azar Nafisi's Reading Lolita in Tehran, specifically a conversation Nafisi had with her "magician."

I wrote: "You write that fear is seldom rational, but really it never is. It is inherently non-reasoned. It comes up from our deepest places, our oldest experiences. It says that the way we understand the world is threatened; it says that we are losing control of what matters to us. It lays the blame for that loss at the feet of others. And although it is non-reasoned, it makes a certain sense. I understand the magician's perspective; fear is not ridiculous, rather it is organic. It grows out of who we are. But when it limits us, or rules us, when it empowers us to act against others, it is the most powerful of weapons of mass destruction."

The Days Dwindle Down... As

As my vacation draws to a close, I realize I didn't accomplish much, but at least I am well rested! I had some thoughts about cleaning out the basement, but the work being done on our kitchen was distracting. I did finish knitting a sweater for the Little Princess and a scarf for the Church Fair, with another underway. And I found a lot of time for reading.

Books I've read during vacation: Washington Square and Daisy Miller (Henry James), both discussed in Reading Lolita in Tehran. The latter I haven't quite finished. It's one of those books you have to put down and recover from reading. The other books referred to I either know quite well (Gatsby, Jane Austen's works) or remember well enough to follow the thread of her writing (Lolita). With James I had a yen to really go back and re-read. Daisy Miller I read in college, but Washington Square I really knew only as a play and a movie (The Heiress). Now I have a whole list of James' titles I want to read: The Ambassadors (a favorite in my American lit class years ago), Princess Casamassima, Portrait of a Lady, The Golden Bowl. I didn't realize until I started a Book Group at church last year how much I missed reading fiction. All through seminary I just didn't have the time. Reading James I remember how influenced I was by notions of innocence and goodness as a young woman. I wanted to be Daisy Miller, to flirt and not care, but I also wanted to be safe. I wanted to be swept off my feet like Catherine Sloper, but I also had a hard time believing in myself as anyone's romantic object. And even in the 1970's, in my family, it felt fairly revolutionary to be a young woman and decide to do something just because you felt like doing it.

That's the danger and confusion facing the young women who meet with Azar Nafisi to discuss English literature in Tehran during the revolution. They can actually endanger their lives by pursuing what they wish. They can actually endanger their lives simply by wearing their scarves the wrong way.

I didn't have to face that sort of danger, of course, but I do remember feeling that my seemingly small rebellions felt deeply significant. My father's approval was certainly as important to me as Catherine's father's was to her.

And I wonder if I would have married Pure Luck if my parents were still alive, if I would have dared to bring someone so unusual into their lives (unusual by their standards, that is), or really anyone!

Book I meant to read and never did: Anna Karenina. I really was sidetracked by RLIT and my desire to refresh my memory of James. It may have to wait for winter.