The Pagan Lord by Bernard Cornwell

I just finished another great book by master storyteller Bernard Cornwell. The Pagan Lord is the seventh book in his Saxon Tales series involving Uhtred, a pagan Viking who is fighting for the Saxons in the tenth century.

Here is an overview from the author’s website:

Alfred the Great is dead and Edward his son reigns as king. Wessex survives but peace cannot hold. The Danes in the north, led by Viking Cnut Longsword, stand ready to invade and will never rest until the emerald crown is theirs.

Uhtred, once Alfred’s great warrior but now out of favour with the new king, must lead a band of outcasts north to recapture his old family home, that great Northumbrian fortress, Bebbanburg.

Loyalties will be divided and men will fall, as every Saxon kingdom is drawn into the bloodiest battle yet with the Danes; a war which will decide the fate of every king, and the entire English nation.

Two themes run throughout the series. One, Uhtred is fighting against his own people by aiding the Saxons in the defense of their homeland. The second is Uhtred’s extreme hostility toward Christianity – although for a brief period he became a Christian.

Uhtred correctly thinks it is a direct threat to the warrior culture of the Danes. His hatred is so heavy that he renames his first-born son’s name from Uhtred to Judas because his son became a Christian priest. The hatred written by the author bothered me at first, but then I blew it off because it is fiction after all.

Although the book gets a bit off-point from the story line, Cornwell anchors it with great descriptions of the major scenes – especially the battles. As I have written before, I have never read another author that can capture the wildly swinging emotions of battle as well as Cornwell.

The Pagan Lord is well worth the read.

Book Review: The Grammar of God by Aviya Kushner

If you have been following me on Goodreads or other social media platforms, or been reading the reviews posted here closely, you will know that I have been on something of a theological quest.  Trying to locate scripture and faith more closely to the original narrative and historical perspective; less with the doctrinal and ideological lens of modern evangelicalism.

So I have been reading and listening to a lot of books and lectures on scripture.  Somewhere along the line I stumbled on The Grammar of God by Aviya Kushner and added it to my Amazon wish list.  Seeking out something to listen to on the daily commute I picked it up on Audible.

It turned out very different than I expected. I thought it would be more about language and scripture and the insights available from someone immersed in a Jewish/Hebraic background experiencing the english Bible for the first time. And there was some of that.

But most of that was a jumping off point for a memoir about the author’s family and culture and how that impacted the way she viewed and experienced the world. The exploration of the scripture, and contrasting Hebrew and English approaches, was just, or seemed like just, a hook to explore her life and relationships; including her relationship with faith, tradition, and scripture. Mind you, it was interesting and well done but the discussion of issues with translation left me wanting more.

While taking time to post this review, however, it occurred to me that this might be one of those times that listening to a book in the car can result in missing some details and depth.

When you are distracted reading a hard copy you can flip back a page and re-read.  Listening to an audio book you are less likely to take the time to skip back and re-listen.  In this way things can slip by without you even realizing you missed it.

This review by Cory Johnston at The Literary Review made me want to go back and re-read or re-listen:

In fact, as Aviya Kushner argues to great effect in her new book, The Grammar of God, the cumulative decisions of translators across many centuries have dramatically altered how we, today, experience one of the most important and influential books ever written: The Bible. In a thorough, obsessively detailed comparison of the English and Hebrew versions of The Bible, Kushner offers a fascinating and intimate analysis of how the intricacies of language can profoundly impact even the most cherished of our beliefs.

[…]

Kushner’s book is itself quite personal, frequently blending in memoir and family anecdotes, and is far better for it. The Bible is, after all, a deeply personal book for most people. And although one of the main lessons of Kushner’s investigation is that there is more distance and artifice between the original Bible and its modern reader than many would care to admit, she has done a wonderful job of capturing the passionate complexity of the process that has led us here. The history of the Bible’s many translations is in many ways a history of the people who devoted themselves so genuinely to the text.

Perhaps, expecting a more straightforward approach to issue of translation I overlooked those elements weaved into the memoir and reflections.

Regardless, if you have any interest in the Bible, translation or language I recommend this fascinating book.

The Jesus Cow by Michael Perry

I am not sure how I heard about The Jesus Cow by Michael Perry.  If I had to guess, I would say it was Shelf Awareness.  But it was on my To Be Read (TBR) list for a while. Midwestern setting with a religious/faith twist?  Yep, that seems like me.

Rather than purchase it, however, I decided to check out from the library using Overdrive (Sorry, but I have been on a bit of a binge on other books I am afraid).

Life is suddenly full of drama for low-key Harley Jackson: A woman in a big red pickup has stolen his bachelor’s heart, a Hummer-driving predatory developer is threatening to pave the last vestiges of his family farm, and inside his barn is a calf bearing the image of Jesus Christ. His best friend, Billy, a giant of a man who shares his trailer house with a herd of cats and tries to pass off country music lyrics as philosophy, urges him to avoid the woman, fight the developer, and get rich off the calf. But Harley takes the opposite tack, hoping to avoid what his devout, dearly departed mother would have called “a scene.”

Then the secret gets out—right through the barn door, and Harley’s “miracle” goes viral. Within hours pilgrims, grifters, and the media have descended on his quiet patch of Swivel, Wisconsin, looking for a glimpse (and a percentage) of the calf. Does Harley hide the famous, possibly holy calf and risk a riot, or give the people what they want—and raise enough money to keep his land—and, just possibly, win the woman and her big red pickup truck?

Harley goes all in, cutting a deal with a major Hollywood agent that transforms his little farm into an international spiritual theme park—think Lourdes, only with cheese curds and t-shirts. Soon, Harley has lots of money . . . and more trouble than he ever dreamed.

It turned out to be yet another book I was pulled in two directions about.

On one hand, it does a fine job of capturing the character and characteristics of Midwestern life.  The close-knit community that can seem suffocating at times and yet still foster loneliness and a longing to escape.  The petty politics and gossip yet the ability to rally around a cause and make a real impact.

And I really like the internal dialog of the lead character Harley Jackson.  The way he is pulled toward politeness and even piety by the memory of his parents; their faithfulness and fundamental goodness.  The way he feels connected the land and rhythms of his family and community.

But he also feels a pull to escape and be his own man.  He leaves his parents faith, leaves town for college, and expands his horizons.  But he ends up back at home never having graduated, working a factory job and raising beef cows on the side.

He feels the urge to be the bad guy, to be the angry jerk who lashes out, to be the arrogant boss type, but in the end he can’t do it.  He wrestles with his doubts, feels guilty about his angst and worry but can’t stop.  Life seems to just carry him along. So when he decides to cash in on the Jesus Cow you know he is in for a ride.

So far so good.  But after awhile the story doesn’t seem to be going anywhere.  Perry has painted the picture but it starts to feel like a sitcom you might watch if nothing else is on.  Kinda interesting but doesn’t really grab you or shake you.

The characters began to edge toward caricatures.  The setting begins to seem paint by numbers.  The meditations on faith and relationships feel like late night dorm conversations.  And when the plot and emotions climax it seems a little too easy.  Which is compounded by the neatly wrapped up ending.

On balance, however, I lean toward the positive side.  It was an entertaining and easy read full of good-natured humor and thoughtful exploration of the relationships of small town America.  A little too cute and neat? Sure, but not in an overbearing or heavy handed way.  And in he end I liked Harley and he felt real.  In fact, I could very much relate to some of his struggles and angst.

If you enjoy light-handed satire and humor and don’t need a lot of narrative drive or suspense you will enjoy The Jesus Cow. If you have lived in small town middle America you will chuckle at the accurate portrayal of the characters one finds there.

But like the Midwest, it can meander a bit and take its time getting to where it’s going.

The Eye of Zoltar (Chronicles of Kazam #3) by Jasper Fforde

As you might recall, I have been listening to audio books during my daily commute.  And I stumbled on Jasper Fforde‘s Chronicles of Kazam series at the local library. I started with The Last Dragonslayer and next came The Song of the Quarkbeast.

The third book, The Eye of Zoltar, turned out to be another fun listen on the daily commute.

Eye of Zoltar AudioAlthough she’s an orphan in indentured servitude, sixteen-year-old Jennifer Strange is pretty good at her job of managing the unpredictable crew at Kazam Mystical Arts Management. She already solved the Dragon Problem, avoided mass destruction by Quarkbeast, and helped save magic in the Ununited Kingdoms. Yet even Jennifer may be defeated when the long-absent Mighty Shandar makes an astonishing appearance and commands her to find the Eye of Zoltar—proclaiming that if she fails, he will eliminate the only two dragons left on earth.

How can a teenage non-magician outdo the greatest sorcerer the world has ever known? But failure is unacceptable, so Jennifer must set off for the mysterious Cadir Idris in the deadly Cambrian Empire—a destination with a fatality index of fifty percent. With the odds against them, will Jennifer and her traveling companions ever return to the Kingdom of Snodd?

Once again, Jennifer Strange is a good central character and the crew at Kazam Mystical Arts Management returns as well (although mostly backstage with the prominent exception of Perkins). And there are some fun added characters in this one which the narrator does a nice job of capturing (accents and personality).

I particularly enjoyed the princess who loves complex economics. Plus, we get to visit another kingdom and explore its unique culture, economy and people. There is plenty of wit but also some mystery and adventure.

This is not quite as good as the first two but I have enjoyed this series. This one ended on quite the cliffhanger so I guess we wait for the next book.

Review: The Book of Strange New Things by Michel Faber

The Book of Strange New Things
I had The Book of Strange New Things by Michel Faber on my wish list for quite a while.  Genre defying story with a faith/religious thread? Sign me up.  I actually grabbed a hardback for a couple of bucks at a library sale but hadn’t made time to read it. So I decided to go the audio route and listen to it on my daily commute.

I am somewhat torn as to my reaction. I really enjoyed it for about 75% but then it felt like it was dragging a bit.

But no sooner had I begun to feel that, it cranked up the tension and I stayed up late to finish it.  I finished it in hardback, however, as I didn’t have the patience to wait for my next car trip once I got close to the ending.

In the same way, I am not sure what to make of the book’s approach to faith and Christianity. Most of the book reads like a rather fair and sympathetic perspective on the life of a missionary and perhaps a commentary on modern Western culture.

But the end seems to undercut that or at least call it into question. I am not sure I have the energy to read it again, so I will have to leave my reaction ambiguous.

Instead, I will offer a few quotes from other reviews.

Jason Sheehan at NPR offers this praise:

And this is Faber’s great strength, trotted out right from the opening pages — this ability to write believable, lovely, flawed and inept characters. To animate his creations by exposing their great loves and human frailties, and to make us want, somehow, to follow along behind them as they traipse across the pages, the miles and, in short order, the light-years.

But then this:

Because for a book whose press goes to lengths to separate it from the genre it is allegedly defying (going so far as to never even use the phrase “science fiction” to describe it), it is 100 percent a science-fiction book — just not a terribly original one. It is a Missionary To The Aliens story, a path well-trod by Golden Age sci-fi writers (something which Faber lampshades in a couple of places by having Peter make mention of feeling like he’s living in a classic science-fiction story) and, more recently, done famously by Mary Doria Russell in The Sparrow or James Blish in A Case Of Conscience. And Faber brings little that’s new or original to the trope, save a masterful skill for sketching the slow accretion of dread and mistrust in the hearts of his characters.

M John Harrison at the Guardian:

This is a big novel – partly because it has to construct and explain its unhomely setting, partly because it has such a lot of religious, linguistic, philosophical and political freight to deliver – but the reader is pulled through it at some pace by the gothic sense of anxiety that pervades and taints every element.

Ron Charles at the Washington Post:

For all its galactic wonders, “The Book of Strange New Things” is a subtle, meditative novel that winds familiar space-alien tropes around terrestrial reflections on faith and devotion.

[…]

It takes a while to realize that, despite its bizarre setting and all the elements of an interplanetary opera, this is a novel of profound spiritual intimacy. Peter knows the Bible well, and if you do, too, you’ll see that he experiences everything through the fabric of its metaphors and parables. He prays like someone who actually believes, which in literary fiction is far more exotic than a space alien with a hamburger face.

Hannah McGill in the Independent:

Crucially for the sincerity of The Book of Strange New Things, Peter and his faith are presented without mockery, and the story of his mission as an experience befalling a real, feeling man, not – say – an allegory for what damage dogma and conversion have done in the world. So prevalent in the ranks of the verbose intelligentsia is the notion of all religion as a mere cover story for greed and wrongdoing that the depiction of a religious man as a sincere do-gooder feels discreetly radical, and permits Faber to ask profound questions not about the performance or misapplication of faith, but about the true condition thereof – and how that condition can be reconciled to a collective existence plagued by undeserved misfortune.

[…]

But this novel most potently concerns itself with matters at once more quotidian and more challenging than these. It is as much about the minor failures of communication that can erode marital intimacy as it is about contacting other beings, and as much about the existential terror inherent in putative parenthood as it is about travel to far-off worlds. As the once-inseparable Peter and Beatrice, now worlds apart, struggle to comprehend one another’s day-to-day lives, Faber lets a devastating possibility shuffle to the fore: every relationship is long-distance, and every person a strange new planet. The methods whereby we try to minimise difference, meanwhile, are themselves unstable – language most palpably so.

I guess I am more on the positive (some nearly gushing) reviews spectrum than I am on the negative. But, perhaps because I am not all that knowledgeable about science fiction or speculative fiction, I can’t quite see the profound and literary masterpiece some have found.

But it was different and I very much enjoyed the journey.

My Goodreads rating: 4 of 5 stars (View all my reviews)