Lit! is divided into two parts: “Part 1: A Theology of Books and Reading,” and “Part 2: Some Practical Advice on Book Reading.”
Part 1 contained a lot of solid content but seemed a bit disjointed and came across more like a series of Christian-worldview blog posts retrofitted to apply specifically to literature. It addressed a lot of questions to which I already had answers without providing much new to consider. I was looking forward to Part 2 and considered skipping the rest of Part 1 after about fifty pages (ironically, this is exactly the approach to book reading that the author recommends in Part 2).
Part 2 was closer to what I expected from the book. Chapter 7 was an especially helpful discussion on the importance of prioritizing what you read in light of the fact that there just isn’t time to read everything. Chapters 8, and 12 were also especially beneficial.
Overall, Lit! was shorter on practical advice than what I had anticipated. If you are a Christian who already shares the author’s worldview, as I am, you may find that your time is best spend only on Part 2.
D. A. Carson has this pesky habit of writing books that are impossible to breeze through. This is not because his books are “academic” and full of obfuscation but because every paragraph has something to contribute to the premise. Scandalous is no different.
Carson uses each of the book’s five chapters (sections?) to expound a separate passage from the Bible in the light of the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus. Each chapter contributes to the quality of whole. Chapter two (The Center of the Whole Bible: Romans 3:21-26) is worth the price of the book. Continue reading “Review: Scandalous: The Cross and Resurrection of Jesus”→
My version of The Hobbit was printed in 1977 and contains a forward by Peter S. Beagle that I thought was excellent. He concluded his forward with this:
For in the end it is Middle-earth and its dwellers that we love, not Tolkien’s considerable gifts in showing it to us. I said once that the world he charts was there long before him, and I still believe it. He is a great enough magician to tap our most common nightmares, daydreams, and twilight fancies, but he never invented them either: he found them a place to live, a green alternative to each day’s madness here in a poisoned world. We are raised to honor all the wrong explorers and discoverers – thieves planting flags, murders carrying crosses. Let us at last praise the colonizers of dreams.
Writing simply is something I’ve been focusing on lately. And while I don’t claim to have mastered the art of writing simply I have gained some ability to recognize writing that is not simple. If you have the unfortunate opportunity to read old legal opinions you will find no shortage of writing that is not simple. Here is an example of a judge detailing a train accident:
On January 21, 1903, John Reed walked along and upon said tracks, and in so doing his foot became caught and held in said opening, negligently, as aforesaid, left open between said rails. That he never could or was able to extricate himself or his foot from said opening. That while he was so held and caught, the appellant learned and became aware of all the facts aforesaid, and, knowing the same, did negligently, at an unlawful high rate of speed, and without any warning or ringing any bell or sounding any whistle, ran a locomotive engine and a number of railroad cars and train along and on and over said tracks against, upon, and over said John Reed, then and there and thereby injuring him in such manner and extent that his death was thereby caused.
Pittsburg, C., C. & St. L. Ry. Co. v. Reed, 44 Ind. App. 635 (1909). You could not obscured and dehumanized an event more if you tried. Let’s simplify:
John Reed was walking along the train track when his foot became stuck in a gap between the rails. The train engineer should have seen John and stopped the train but he was driving the train faster than the law allowed and was therefore unable to stop. The train ran over John, killing him.
Nathaniel Hawthorn said “easy reading is damn hard writing,” I think he’s right. However, every once in a while you get the chance to write something simply that’s actually not that “damn hard” to write. Take those opportunities.
Before putting my daughter down for her nap today we read Jesus and His Friends. At the climax of the story Jesus feeds 5,000 people with a paltry five loaves of bread and two fish. After all of the people had their fill “there were even twelve baskets of food left over!”
I would like to point out the apparent joy the fish retained after being used by Jesus. I certainly hope that, like the miracle fish, I retain my joy even if God’s plan for me involves the skin and meat being stripped from my body.