On My Bookshelf


are we being watchedI just finished Paul Murdin’s 2013 book, Are We Being Watched? The subtitle gives it away as a science book, not conspiracy theory: The Search for Life in the Cosmos.

An astronomer pens a book that amasses planetary science, geology, chemistry, history of science, and significantly, biology. Dr Murdin is an excellent writer, and except for a few small factual burps (like Jupiter’s moon Callisto being the size of the moon–it’s not) this is a very informative book. It succeeds for being an intelligent and readable work without dumbing it down. Though a reader’s science background will make it very digestible.

On the plus side, the author takes the reader through many sciences in exploring the possibility for life off Earth. His chapter summarizing the search for life on Mars is about the best treatment I’ve read of a subject I’m not sure I ever understood very well. Especially the question about the Viking landers: what the heck did they find in 1976?

Count me as a skeptic on the likelihood of finding intelligent life elsewhere in the universe. I’m a proud member of the Rare Earth club. Aliens are not watching us. I feel pretty solid on that. But I enjoyed this book because of a calm, reasoned, and thorough examination of the multiple scientific disciplines that modern astronomy brings together to address the question.

shadows of the heartEvelyn and James Whitehead have written a slew of books touching on ministry, theology, and psychology. I found this mid-90′s volume, subtitled “A Spirituality of the Painful Emotions” on the bookshelf in my parish’s library. It tackles some very difficult material: anger, guilt, shame, and depression–all woven deeply into the fabric of American culture, and inevitably, into Western Christendom.

It’s a wise book, thoughtful, considered, and full of clinical examples. Personally, I was looking for something more explicitly spiritual. But the Whiteheads integrate a religious sensibility with impressive psychological knowledge. They produced a book that leaps easily between the emotional and spiritual lives of a believer. And indeed, these are not separate lives so much as they are very closely linked aspects of the whole person each one of us is.

Diagnosis and discernment is key when dealing with material like this. Do we recognize anger when it wells up within us? Are we able to admit we possess shame about a traumatic experience? Or do we deny them, bury them? The challenge with our culture’s engagement with psychology, as I see it, is that it is mostly a surface thing. Americans are perhaps willing to admit they have a problem. And some concede they are victims. But is there a willingness to delve deeply, to make the grueling journey within to engage our problems and move toward healing and integration? Unfortunately, our own sense of entitlement (perhaps rooted in our affluence) trips us up.

This is a difficult book, and I’d like to think that my experiences in 12 Steps and in counseling as a young adult prepared me somewhat more for it than some. But this is also an honest book. As such, it is not for the faint of heart.

Prayerbook Engaged CouplesWe fielded an apt question from a commenter yesterday about choosing the right reading for a wedding. It is very heartening to see engaged people take the selection of wedding Scripture seriously. This is a topic that I find difficult to handle in a general way. So much depends on the personality and faith of the couple.

I want to commend and recommend my friend and fellow blogger, Father Austin Fleming, for his fine contribution to ministry to engaged couples. My wife and I were given Prayerbook for Engaged Couples and it suited us very well.

Fr Austin covers some, but not all of the readings, prayers, and elements of the Rite of Marriage. But for each one, he presents the text, then a few sentences of reflection. Following that are usually two or three faith-related questions for the couple to share. Each reflection is concluded with a prayer shared by the couple.

The commenter mentioned she and her fiancé were considering John 2:1-11, the first miracle of Jesus at the wedding at Cana, as the gospel reading at her wedding. Fr Austin’s reflection and questions on that reading are:

Can you imagine how happy Jesus was for this couple? Just so, the Lord loves us. There may not be any dazzling miracles at your wedding reception, but he is ready to be with us in our times of need, now and always.

  • The Lord took what the couple already had, just water, and turned it into the finest wine. What needs to be transformed in our lives? In our relationships?
  • When do we ask the Lord for help?

I think this is just about right. Read the reading together. Discuss two/three questions. Pray the prayer at the end, plus the Our Father. If the discussion and sharing goes well for a couple, then maybe that will be a meaningful Bible reading for the wedding day. If not, then move on to another possibility.

Even for couples who have already determined their readings and prayers, this is a genius method for preparing for the wedding liturgy. Praying the elements of the wedding, especially a few weeks before the date, could permit the Holy Spirit to seep into the final days of preparation.

A few other thoughts on wedding readings … I tell couples that wedding readings are about one of three things: God, people, or qualities. Any or all of them are quite appropriate. It largely depends on the inspiration of the couple. If there’s strong reflection on the qualities of love or union or loyalty, then by all means pick Genesis 2 or 1 Corinthians 13. If on the couple, then Psalm 128 or Genesis 24. And if on the Lord, then something from 1 John. Couples can read these readings ahead of time, and sift through what “sounds” right. It’s less an intellectual thing (ideally) than trying to gain some sense of God and getting to know one’s life partner and what her or his sense of God might be.

Enough for now. How have any of our readers chosen Bible readings?

And by the way: Fr Austin’s book? Big thumbs up. I keep a few copies on my shelf for couples who seem to need it.

I’ve been cleaning off the bookshelf in my parish office. A few weeks ago I noticed two brief, older volumes I must have picked up shortly after grad school. Authored by the Chicago archdiocesan priest Patrick J. Brennan, each is a quick easy read: paperback and under 200 pages. Each is out of print, I think. They describe early efforts (in the 1980′s) to revitalize Catholic life through evangelization and a more proactive approach to the Great Commission. Fr Brennan takes Evangelii Nuntiandi seriously. But it was also a time when many Catholics fretted about the word “evangelization.” I remember those discussions in my first parishes. “Evangelization” sounds too darned Protestant. Our people will misunderstand. Can we call it something different? Outreach? Re-Membering Church? What a difference a generation makes.

the evangelizing parishThe first book, The Evangelizing Parish, from Tabor Publishing in 1987 was written by a priest for other priests. Or so it seemed to me. Fr Brennan has a snappy, no-nonsense writing style. He jumped from topic to topic. He offered a lot of forms he used, told a number of stories and anecdotes on how things worked for him. He wasn’t shy about mentioning things that he tried that worked for a few years, then didn’t. Or the occasional effort that bore no fruit.

The Evangelizing Parish progresses from a treatment of “What Is Catholic Evangelization?” in Chapter One. The foundation document is Evangelii Nuntiandi, and Fr Brennan explores succinctly what this might mean in a parish.

The largest chapter (forty pages) addresses “Evangelizing Active Parishioners.” There’s a lot to do, obviously–mainly getting people on board with leaving behind the “productivity” of parish programs and renewing the sense of turning Catholics into evangelizers in their workplace,s neighborhoods, and communities as they attend to greater personal depth in their own life in Christ.

Maybe Fr Brennan will disappoint some by this assessment:

The parish, like the larger Church, is a tool–a tool whose purpose it is to help make the Reignb of god more and more realized in time and space. The true focus … is the world, the marketplace, the neighborhoods, the mores of the nation, and the geopolitical climate of the world.

Honestly, I could set some people’s teeth a-gnashing by suggesting the same of the liturgy. But it would be true.

From here, the author tackles possibilities with “Inactive or Alienated Parishioners,” and then “Evangelizing Youth.” A very brief chapter on “The Catechumenal Parish” wraps it up by page 113.

reimagining the parishThe other book came out three years later, and while it doesn’t feature evangelization in the title, this effort is both the stated and unspoken theme throughout.

More than half the book considers “Base Communities” and looks at various manifestations of these in North America and around the world. In my parish we have about thirty “small groups” for students each semester. Many resident parishioners have similar structures that have held up well over the years.

Fr Brennan explains why these groups–between households and parish–are essential for faith development. There are lessons to be learned from the Americas and Africa. Notably, no examples from Europe.

From there, Fr Brennan turns attention to adult Catholics for twenty-plus pages. Then he addresses the family, including a brief chapter on “Family-Centered Evangelization and Catechesis.” All interesting stuff, peppered with real experiences: successes and a few failures and some things in-between.

It was illustrative to me what a good, thoughtful, and proactive pastor in the 80′s was doing. Long before the malaise of the later JP2 and B16 years set in. Before evangelization was “new.” When more people, it seemed, were taking Church documents more seriously than the distillation that became the catechism.

A bit of the lingo was cringe-worthy, but I have the perspective of another generation, I suppose. And while Fr Brennan was critical of “programmitis,” a lot of the efforts of the 70′s and 80′s were indeed … programs. On the other hand, I applaud the author’s insight that the catechumenate offers more than a liturgical structure for evangelization and initiation. It can become an effective model for renewing the baptized believers of a parish.

RENEW and other efforts gave parishes and small groups a helpful structure and model to follow. The problem was that many lay people, and a good number of parish professionals lacked the depth or insight to follow up with the published offerings. Catholicism is far too rich to allow people to just sit back and do nothing once their five, six, or ten semesters are completed.

office of mercyI never completed The Hunger Games. But from my daughter’s description, I think I came close when I recently finished Ariel Djanikian’s first novel, The Office of Mercy.

I think I could recommend this book to the young miss. It has one foot in YA, and another in post-apocalyptic adult fiction. It’s a pretty tame book. But it’s about a society four centuries in the future that has tamed the practice of genocide. Genocide is now an act of “mercy,” hence the book title.

Inside the dome, people are decanted like they were in Brave New World. Outside the dome, human beings scratch together what life they can after the collapse of civilization. Inside the dome, people live an antiseptic existence as human science pushes individuals toward immortality. Outside the dome, people who wander too close are incinerated by a device called a “nova,” in order to spare them future suffering. Inside, it’s all very polite, and there’s even a tolerance for dissent–within reason. Outside, there are plots to take over the inside. And inside, the powers-that-be have ways to get their way, which is why they’re so calm and nice and serene. And they’re already more than three centuries old. Which means they are invested in the long run. That could be played for more creepiness, but it’s not until the last forty pages that we get our first look at the “Alphas.”

By the end of the novel, we’ve lived through several months of a young woman’s life. She finds secrets outside, inside, and up the ladder of command. She vacillates as she discovers shocking truths about herself, her society, and the man she loves. She is an accessory to grievous crimes, but there’s a surprise at the end. A few surprises, actually.

This book isn’t quite strong enough to be a character study, which would have been interesting. I think the ending (something of a cliffhanger) could be justified if we went a bit deeper into Natasha.

As a study of a future post-civilized Earth, this book isn’t quite strong enough, I think. There are some flaws in believability. Some ideas struck me as a bit too derivative of post-apocalyptic fiction. Other authors have covered this ground, though hardly ever from a woman’s point of view.

Ms Djanikian plots well, and gives us one interesting character. The book moves along at a good pace and gives the reader a few fakes and feints along the way. I think a Catniss fan would like this book. I liked it too. But I wouldn’t put it on the level of excellent.

PrintBruce Springsteen and the Promise of Rock ‘n’ Roll is Marc Dolan’s massive 2012 bio that takes the reader through an entertainer’s life from first guitar to the present day. Up front, I’ll set my personal perspective. I had a few Boss albums on vinyl in the late 70′s. I didn’t follow him into the 80′s–mainstream rock lost its appeal to me as I turned to other genres for listening and concerts. I’ve never been to a Springsteen concert, but many of my friends have and have raved. I like to pepper my reading with biography  now and then. I usually find rock biographies depressing for the waste of artists’ lives in chemicals and other forms of self-indulgence. This book, not so much. But it was a marathon.

Mr Dolan is a very good writer. And the story that traces Bruce Springsteen’s rise from a kid with his first guitar to “Born To Run” is engaging. From 1975 on, we get a detailed, though not totally intimate view of a star trying to develop as an artist and as a person while carrying the burdens of stardom/celebrity and some personal demons. That might be an interesting story to fans, but I found it less inspiring. The second half of the book is a long travelogue of details in a very productive artistic life. Are changes in musicians, set-lists, and composing/recording styles important? They got a lot of attention. Springsteen’s failed first marriage and seemingly sound second one, not as much. More of the man’s direct testimony about his own music? None, except through other sources.

I think I’m interested in personal details less for the voyeurism, and more for how one’s loved ones and friends inform and guide one’s life as an artist. Springsteen is painted with his flaws, but these are skipped over somewhat. Psychotherapy is mentioned as sort of a backstory. The last several years seem to be scanned over more quickly, as if the author isn’t quite keen on the move out of rock and into Woody Guthrie and more traditional American music of the last century.

Maybe the problem is writing what is presented as an “authoritative” (or perhaps “long”) biography of a person who doesn’t seem quite finished with his life. Or maybe the Boss is done, pretty much. Or maybe Mr Dolan harbors some of his own skittishness about being fifty, or being sixty, and coming to terms with mortality and age a bit more deeply than he would like. I can dig it. I’m not reading this biography (or others like it) so I can be informed enough to visit websites and chat about the minute details of a star’s life. I want insight into art, creativity, and the hand of God in all of that. In the end, this book didn’t satisfy that for me.

A fan will love this book, especially if you know the music and the concerts. There are most insights into the man’s life, I’m sure. But these seem better suited to what will come sometime in about thirty to fifty years: a cover-to-cover authoritative biography of Bruce Springsteen. If you’re not a fan, this book will likely lose you. Listen to Bruce’s music first. That tells the story you really need to know.

On a friend’s recommendation, I tackled the title book of Brandon Sanderson’s fantasy series. Really good read. And a unique idea in my reading experience: what if evil triumphed in a fantasy? What would life be like after the defeat? Mistborn takes place a millennium after a dark lord has taken over the world. How do the forces of good, very mortal and very flawed people, take on an immortal and supremely powerful entity who seems like a god?

This is an impressive second novel from Mr Sanderson. It has the usual characteristics of fantasy: larger than life hero, young understudy, a quest, the battle of good versus evil, special powers, and the like. There’s better-than-average world-building, and an ingenious idea for heroes and villains to gain superhuman abilities and powers. There’s snatching victory from the jaws of defeat and a few neat plot twists. The conclusion was logical, but not really predictable. Very enjoyable.

Some other plusses you might not expect: one strong female character. Good plotting that eventually ties together at the end. The reader gets a few moments that hint at depth of character beyond the two leads. But otherwise Mr Sanderson sticks with his leads and fortunately, these two are very interesting characters. They carry the book.

Only one howling error an editor probably should have caught–no idea what a “coma” is doing in a culture about the level of medieval Europe. But given how most editors seem to be satisfied with spell-check I think the overall job here was way better than average. One change of perspective seemed a bit out of place as the plot hurtled to its climax.

If I could write like this, I’d be super-pleased. I’m looking forward to the other books in the series.

I’ve spent over a week with David Mitchell’s thoughtful and intriguing Cloud Atlas. The book has been highly praised in critics’ corners. I noticed the film release a few months ago. But a book is nearly always better than its adaptation. I can’t compare novel and movie, but I can recommend the book. Let’s talk about it.

This work is like a nesting doll. The first story, set on an 1850 Pacific Ocean journey is interrupted by a 1931 summer adventure of a would-be composer, which in turn is left behind for a mid-70′s mystery thriller. A cliffhanger moment leads to the next century–ours–and a farce. From farce to next-century-Asia, and the final story follows, told in one part, in a post-apocalyptic Hawaii. Each of the other five stories are finished in reverse order, and at book’s end, the reader is treated to a resolve of the 1850 situation and a philosophical insight that incorporates compassion and mercy in the face of inhumanity and the long stretches of time.

Cloud Atlas gives us something of a demanding read. The author gives us different viewpoints, multiple genres, styles, and use of language. The first story’s interruption is abrupt, and unlike chapters which switch points of view, the reader has to recall, “Oh yeah, that’s where we left off.” So it’s a clever idea integrated into the narrative. There is something of a forward and backward flow to the whole book. And the thread of reincarnation, though not essential to the plot, isn’t the only common thread. I think the author is successful in transcending what could have been a gimmick in lesser hands.

Religion has an interesting portrayal here. It’s not Mr Mitchell’s strong point. Colonialist Protestants, but a faintly positive spin on monasticism, both Buddhist and Catholic. By the time we get to story 5 in the 22nd century, corporations, at least in future-Korea, have abolished religion.

Does one-third of this narrative taking place in the future make this a science fiction novel? It’s a good question. Let other readers decide, but I’m a skeptic on that. I take this as a work of historical fiction.

Pelagianism is inevitable in an optimistic novel without an explicit religious worldview. Will it be enough to bring humankind back from the brink of a dystopian and ruined future? I don’t think so.

All the main characters struggle with virtue. Some are more successful, but each is flawed in some way. The final message of the book is one of optimism born of an experience of showing someone mercy, and having it turn out to be a lifesaver for the character later on. But in the final analysis, the character considers the single good deed, the well-lived life of virtue. Is it enough to matter when forces of brutality overwhelm humanity? Does on pure drop matter in an ocean? Perhaps there will be more than just a single drop. And Cloud Atlas presents other moments of generosity–even grace.

This book isn’t a work of genius like another recent read, Mariette In Ecstasy. But this excellent and thought-provoking book is well worth the effort to digest it.

As years pass, various interests wax and wane in astronomy. Some might says fads come and go. Early in the 20th century, there’s big interest for finding that second Earth–a blue and green planet somewhere in the universe where maybe aliens like us live. Our probes poke at Mars and try to tease out hints that life once existed there. Or maybe still does. And with a few recent hits and near misses, we look to stadium-sized rocks in our orbital neighborhood and wonder if our crash helmet will be enough next time.

John Percy’s book Understanding Variable Stars addresses none of today’s popular topics, really. He’s focused not on microbes, fossils, or skyfall, but on big game. Stars. And more, stars that change in brightness.

Why do stars change in brightness? It can happen when they are very young or very old. As it happens, stars pulse, blast, flare, flatten, sputter, spin, spill stuff onto other stars, eclipse, erupt, hide, reappear, degenerate, explode, and do all sorts of interesting things. Indeed, after I finished this book, I began to reflect that maybe our sun is the oddball. It just rises every morning and sets every evening and always comes up the same every day.

This is an advanced book for amateur astronomers. To get the most out of it, one will need a strong science background. Indeed, it reads like a textbook for an undergrad course in stellar astronomy. Lots of graphs. Lots of physics and some stellar chemistry. But an amateur with this book under her belt will be a force to be reckoned with in the world of AAVSO, the American Association of Variable Star Observers. And that means something because diligent amateurs, equipped with a good telescope, good viewing conditions, and a basic array of modern equipment, can make substantial contributions to stellar astronomy.

Let’s get back to that textbook thought. If this book is any indication of what it’s like to sit in one of Professor Percy’s classes, I would love to take Astro 261 Stellar Astronomy from the guy. He infuses just the right amount of history and personal interest. He communicates exuberance for his topic through text and data. Dr Percy loves astronomy, pure and simple.

Personally, I gravitate to the planetary regions of astronomy, but I borrowed this book from the university library just to broaden my horizons a bit. It’s good, especially for amateurs, to have a broad base of knowledge. I’m not sure why I needed to learn why the element lithium churns in the atmospheres of young stars and is barely found at all in the sun. But it was interesting to learn the up-to-date speculations about Eta Carinae. The first two chapters are as good an introduction to stars as I’ve seen anywhere. Chapter three sets the table for the topic in 32 pages. More than 200 pages breaks down most all types of variable stars as we know them–and this is the part where you really have to pay attention. I read this book in three weeks, and I certainly wouldn’t get top marks for the little I could recall.

I can’t imagine a better in-depth introduction to variable stars. If this branch of astronomy is your passion, this book needs a spot on your shelf. If you prefer galaxies, cosmology, or planets, it’s still a recommended read. How stars function and especially change will impact planets. What stars quadrillions of miles away from the Earth do is amazing. First, for how much information we can tease out of the universe just by watching it. Second, an appreciation that the sun is not a variable star. Third, for the implications of planet formation and eventually, I suppose, where the human race will settle after we leave the solar system. And then there’s just the wonder of it all. That last one’s enough for me.

The image is an infrared “movie” of Algol, a double star in which the components orbit almost edge on as seen from Earth. The dimmer of the two eclipses the brighter and even without a telescope, an observer can tell.

the brightest starsI’ve been reading quite a bit in 2013, including some books on astronomy. In the next few weeks, I’ll take a look at some volumes currently on my bookshelf and assess them for readability by the general public, for amateur astronomers, and possibly, science pros.

I like a good book with information and that assumes some intelligence on the part of the reader. The Brightest Stars fits the bill. It’s accessible by a middle-schooler with a deep interest in astronomy, and contains some good bits for the seasoned adult skywatcher. Fred Schaaf is a long time amateur astronomer, multi-book author, and columnist for various magazines. He gives the reader one-third of the book with background on stars. He devotes the final two-thirds to twenty-one profiles of the brightest stars as seen from Earth.

My favorite part: tracking the movement of stars through the sky over hundreds of thousands of years. Did you know that 420,000 years ago, Earth had two very bright stars marking the north pole in the sky? The so-called fixed stars revolve around the center of the galaxy. But some stars aren’t following the same path as the sun. They “fly” into our neighborhood quickly and leave–all on the time scale of a million years or so.

Mr Schaaf includes personal anecdotes–good color. He gives both mythical lore and scientific history on our twenty-one stars. Also fascinating stuff. I appreciate the attempt to appeal to those with interest in science, history, and culture. He hits on all of that and held my attention.

My only quibble with the book is that it’s not well edited. Sometimes there’s too much repetitive information given, and it comes across as filler. Maybe editors leave veteran authors alone by their thirteenth book. Too bad. A good editor would have turned this B-plus book into an A.

My second Solar System science fiction book in the past four months: Blue Remembered Earth by Alastair Reynolds. I first read two or three of his early novels about a decade ago. Last appearance on my bookshelf was about five years ago. The author seems to be flying in a more literary orbit these days. Blue Remembered Earth is more character-driven than I remember his other novels, which were more about science fiction ideas. Which isn’t to say this book doesn’t have ideas. It does–and very good ones.

The book bounces back between brother and sister Africans who live 150 years hence on an Earth where China, India, and Africa are the preeminent powers and North America gets one mention in the whole book. Or maybe two. They are members of a powerful and wealthy family that has made its fortune in space exploration. They are also the black sheep in that they care for elephants (brother Geoffrey) and art (sister Sunday) more than they follow the familyline pushing back the frontiers of space, and especially amassing more wealth, prestige, and power.

The action begins when the family matriarch dies. Geoffrey is bribed by his powerful smart-a** cousins to leave his elephant research and go to the moon. There, he finds a spacesuit glove in his grandmother’s safe deposit box. He visits his sister and from there each sets off on largely separate adventures to get to the bottom of some mysterious clues left by the deceased. The reader joins them for some exciting trespass into the Chinese-controlled area of the moon, the ocean floor off the coast of East Africa, Phobos (moon of Mars), the Martian surface, and eventually the Kuiper belt beyond Neptune.

It’s an interesting travelogue. Like the future solar system of Kim Stanley Robinson’s 2312, it seems to move ahead too fast in terms of technology. But like that book, it also paints an optimistic view of the future. Human beings are able to pull the planet back from the catastrophes of climate change, war, and self-destruction. And if the societies don’t seem to be “free” in the sense we know freedom, you don’t find many people living in the wreckage of the Worst Case Scenario. Maybe that’s good. Maybe not.

I wanted to like Blue Remembered Earth more than I did. At times, the characters seemed forced into moods, feelings, and even discoveries. A few surprise elements pop up–these are interesting. The surprise on Mars rescues Sunday, but doesn’t contribute to the big arc that aims the human race into the stars. And that development is telegraphed from the beginning of the novel–I just wondered how they were going to get to it.

The various adventures eventually get to Geoffrey, and by the three-quarter mark of the book, he’s a changed man. I’m still not sure why he did change, other than he was wowed more toward the end by his experiences than he was by flying to the moon and diving into the ocean depths.

The sister is interesting, but not really essential to the book. She seems like a drop-in woman character. The villains, including the cousins, seem cardboard to me. This novel could have been a one-man-show, with a good supporting cast.

Like I said: I wanted to like this book more than I did. There are two surprises at the end that wrap things up, plus a childhood experience remembered that ties up the emotional loose ends. I have a sense Mr Reynolds can write a better book. Clearly, he can handle the Big Ideas of good science fiction. I give him an A-plus for that. He can generate conflict for good characters. But this book could have been more tightly plotted. And if it had been, I think I would have really loved it.

I think I’m a few decades late to Ron Hansen’s coming-out party. And it’s likely most of my Catholic readers have already read this book. So you’re likely not going to need my recommendation. I’m going to touch on some points as I have sensed them through this novel.

Though about a postulant in a 1906-07 convent, this book possesses a very American feel: a reverence for nature and for the rhythm of life on our continent. I haven’t read Mr Hansen’s Western stories, but I can see certain links to a sense of American wonder, even if the setting for Mariette is a cloistered religious community in the East.

Mr Hansen alternates betweenb lyrical passages I found reminiscent of psalmody, and the more conventional story line moving forward. Mariette is also under investigation, so testimony is the third medium by which the story is told. All three work marvelously well, and bring a remarkable balance to the effort.

I understand Mariette in Ecstasy has been adapted for film (though not a US release) and stage. That’s fine, I’m sure. But this story really cries for a settinbg as an opera. The writing is so luminous it sings.

I confess: I’d love to be able to write like Ron Hansen.

The big question as the novel heads into part 3: is Mariette really experiencing a miracle or is she just an accomplished “actress,” as one character asserts? How much of the action is due to God’s grace and how much the devil? And the final resolution for Mariette, is it just? Is it right? I think so. A hundred years ago, the thought of someone being ejected from a monastery would have been a humiliating defeat. But in the instance of this book, I think it makes for a happy ending. A deeply Catholic believer doesn’t need the endorsement of the Church, the propping up of priesthood or religious life, or even the regard of one’s sister and brother believers to know one is following God faithfully. I loved the ending. It seemed logical, entirely correct, and ultimately just.

This portrait of a deeply religious woman is just about perfect. If you haven’t read it, read it tomorrow if you can.

loving workI started this great book by Mike Hayes before I went to bed Thursday night at the conference. I finished it on the plane home the next day.

Mike is well known in the blogosphere as the co-founder of Busted Halo. He has a great blog, Googling God. Now, like me, he’s a campus minister. He delivered an excellent presentation at his breakout session. He’s clearly a guy well at home with himself and in his role in the Church. That confidence provides the spirit of this book.

Mike brings an Ignatian education and sensibility to a straight-forward approach to uncovering just what we should be doing with this life God has given us. He peppers six chapters with personal stories of his own work history, and how he was led from a career in broadcasting, to the internet, and from there, to campus ministry and retreats.

If you know a young adult searching for direction along the lines of work, I can’t think of a better book. It will appeal to those who are deeply religious, but will also impact a person not so deeply churchy.

van BreemenReaders may have noticed one or two quotes in recent posts from Father Peter van Breemen. His book The God Who Won’t Let Go is a distillation of a series of talks he gave at a Benedictine monastery in 1998. Ave Maria Press published the book a dozen years ago, but it’s been sitting on my shelf for those years. I’ve been enjoying the Dutch Jesuit’s reflections on God’s love as lensed through important passages from Scripture. I haven’t completed the volume yet, but I thought I would give it a big thumbs-up recommendation here.

The adaptation from retreat talk to book format is well done. I’ve been taking a chapter every few days at the end of my regular lectio. There’s a richness in the essays that stays with me for a day or two afterward. Chapter five, “We all need forgiveness” was particularly poignant for me this past week.

Each talk-turned-chapter is a coherent meditation on some aspect of God’s love. The author draws from all over Scripture, the writings of the saints, and ties everything together in a way that is understandable, thoughtful, and relevant to the life of a modern-day believer. From the conclusion to Chapter 1, “wait there for me,” summing up the example of Moses, in prayer on Mount Sinai, the go-between of his people and their God (Exodus 34):

Out of Moses’s solitary experience of God there emerges something of great importance for all the people. Similarly, we pray alone, insolitude and silence; but–and this is good to remember when prayer happens to be difficult–our solitary prayer bears fruit for many. We wait by ourselves, but our listening, our silence, our longing, and our prayer become a source of fruitfulness for others as well. This fruitfulness knows no bounds.

http://newswatch.nationalgeographic.com/files/2011/03/martian_summer_cover.jpgI just finished Andrew Kessler’s Martian Summer: Robot Arms, Cowboy Spacemen, and My 90 Days with the Phoenix Mars Mission.

This book gives a peppy, irreverent, and informative inside view of the 2008 mission to the polar region of Mars. There are many books out there on space missions. Like those others, Mr Kessler’s book gives a wealth of science information as well as interpersonal exchanges between Phoenix scientists, engineers, journalists, and bureaucrats.

I found his narrative style a bit choppy. The book tends to get bogged down in small details–interesting details certainly, but not always connected to the big picture. The book reads like a series of blog posts. That’s not to say they’re not well-written; they certainly are. It’s just a different style of writing than what I’m accustomed to.

Recommended for Mars fanatics. Otherwise an interesting read, but not absolutely top-shelf.

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