Book Review, and Three Books on Prayer

I wrote a review of the book The Papa Prayer: The Prayer You've Never Prayed by Larry Crabb on Good Reads on Wednesday morning, even though I read the book two or three years ago now. I'm not generally very good at book reviews these days, saying more about whether I liked the book or not than what the structure of the book was, what the author argued, whether I agreed. My book reviews have been sporadic over the years, inconsistent in their content, even though I was rather good at them in undergrad and grad school. It's as though writing about  a book as part of an assignment were easier than writing about the book in a responsible way for my own use. Make sense? If it doesn't, know it doesn't make a lot of sense to me either. I hope that my work in Adler and Van Doren will cause me to improve.

Years ago a friend of mine gave me a book journal, a lovely little paperback thing she had picked up in California. She told me that I should try to capture my thoughts as best I could, but then I got out of the habit of thinking about books the way I once had, and when I tried to make notes about them in the book I too often felt that I was getting nowhere fast. Again, I hope that as I continue to build this habit of regular writing and careful reading into my life this will change as well. I'd like to fill that lovely little book with ink, the sort of thing I'll want to read in years to come.

I share my review of The Papa Prayer below, with some added details, and perhaps more personal information:

I thought this book was terrific, life changing in fact. My Dad, and another friend of mine disagreed, not that it was life-changing. We didn't discuss it in that way. The disagreement was over whether the book was wonderful or not. She (my friend) said that it seemed to her to be one of those books that revolved around one central idea that could better be expressed in fewer pages. I don't remember what my dad said, but knowing him it may have been something similar. Or perhaps the kind of prayer that Crabb described doesn't fit his relational style. I've advocated elsewhere that we are each of us uniquely made, and that therefore the relationship between God and us will not be uniform. This book contained some things that were bread and meat for me.


What I liked best about this book was the form of prayer that Crabb describes. Instead of trying to guess what God wants in any given situation, or demanding what we want from Him, Crabb advocates a form of prayer that becomes a conversation like you'd have with someone who cares about you. You present your own anxieties about a situation before God, tell Him what you're thinking, express your hopes for a particular outcome if you have them, but in so doing relinquish your concerns to Him. I know this isn't a revolutionary concept, but the way that Crabb describes it is immanently useful. For weeks after I read it I was more aware than usual of how much God values my conversations with Him, which in turn made me so much more aware and grateful that He was near.


Richard Foster presents a different view of prayer in a chapter of Celebration of Discipline, which is also valuable, and contrary to this one. Foster says that in intercessory prayer, which is the form he concentrates on in this book, there is no room for praying "Thy will be done." He says that when praying for others we must discern the will of God first, and then pray that in expectation. I don't disagree. I look forward to reading Foster's book, Prayer: Finding the Heart's True Home, if I can ever get my hands on a copy. I think the contradiction springs from a difference in focus, and I recommend Foster's view of the subject as well. I also absolutely love With Christ in the School of Prayer by Andrew Murray, which I read last summer. Andrew Murray's book reads like a devotional, a format that I have historically stayed away from. It's a terrific little book though, delving into scripture and teaching how to pray as Jesus taught and prayed. Each of these books is worth reading. Of the three, Larry Crabb's book moved me more to wonder at the glory and love of God and worship Him than it did claim my intellectual assent, and that is one of the reasons why I liked the books so much.

And now I'm one move closer to learning how to write a useful book review. For those books that I can remember well I now have the opportunity to re-review them, as the website I used to use for organizing my reading is in the process of shutting down. If I can make myself write about plot in the future, I may be able to start reviewing fiction as well, with something more than "I love this book," " I couldn't wait for it to be over but then it got better," and other such uninformative comments.

I tried to compose something about one of my favorite television shows the other day, but I couldn't get very far with it because I wasn't willing to explain the basic plot. It's something I shall have to continue to work on.

Note: I'll go ahead and publish the link below, but know that I have only written a couple of reviews on the goodreads website at this point, because I imported all of my books into their system only Tuesday. Reviews that I had published previously on living social could not be imported, and I had to give star ratings to many books that I had not read in years.


View all my reviews

Understanding the Words on the Page At Last

It's Sunday morning as I write this and I am trying to reorient myself. I've been sick for the past two days. At first I thought it was because of some chemicals I had used to clean the bathroom. Then I thought maybe it was from the dust stirred up when I suddenly decided to pledge the house. I only got to two rooms with that one. I was all excited to vacuum next because I bought new vacuum bags for the first time in so many years I'm embarassed to say. The label suggests you replace the vacuum bag every thirty to sixty days. I'm assuming that's for people, like my mom, who actually vacuum daily?

I always think I'm going to do better with that, but then I never actually do. Getting sick this time doesn't help me to make the necessary committment.

While I've been sick I've been reading, and I find this really interesting.

I've had this book The Truth in Jesus: The Nature of Truth and How We Come to Know It, written by George MacDonald, with compilation, editing and insightful essays provided by Michael Phillips, for years. I was drawn to this book in the bookstore, well before Barnes and Noble came to Tuscaloosa, for many reasons, not least of which was the cover design. I've tried to read it numerous times, with varying levels of success.

So this time I pick it up to read it and, wonder of wonders, I actually find it making sense. It never did before. In the past it was always, and I mean always, too difficult for me to understand. I'd get through several pages before giving up. In the past Phillips's "Insights into" the essays didn't hold any insight for me. At most I could grab onto one or two sentences.

So what has changed? I don't exactly know. I also don't exactly know how to synthesize MacDonald's ideas with the other reading I've been doing. This may become another experiment for me in the days ahead, because a lot of what I'm reading in MacDonald fits in nicely with other ideas I've been grappling with, this idea of relationship for one. The idea of understanding and accepting my own being for another. It's as though God knew when I would be reading this book at last, what my other surrounding reading would be, what I would be writing in journal and in blog. Because what's cool about the reading this time is that it somehow cosmically appears to be fitting together. MacDonald has had me referencing Kierkegaard, Yancey, Adler, and even Rand as I've been reading him. Some of those associations have been positive, and some of them negative. Anyway, it is an exciting time for reading even as I am ill.

How to Talk About Books You Haven't Read--Even If You Have No Intention of Ever Reading Them

A couple of weeks ago, instead of going to church, I fell asleep on the sofa finishing How to Talk About Books You Haven't Read by Pierre Bayard. Jamey, who was with me when I discovered the book at Barnes & Noble a couple of weeks ago, will be glad to know that the public library did have it.

The book was accessible, amusing, snide. I finished it in a matter of days in spite of illness.

The point of the entire book seems to be that the efficacy and value of reading is questionable. As a matter of fact writing seems to be the only worthwhile activity with respect to books, in which case it is not the production of literature that matters, but rather the production of criticism, said criticism being of value only when its writing is divorced from any reference to literature whatsoever.

Bayard argues that when we talk about books we are never discussing them as they exist, but instead we discuss an imaginary approximation of the text. Thus we may discuss literature even more accurately if we have in fact failed to read the text in question.

It's so difficult to know what Bayard is really saying. Either he is discussing something he considers to be the ideal, or he is ironically discussing the reality of criticism as though it were the ideal, if only we could perfect it. The proof of the ironic nature of his discussion seemed to be his use of Oscar Wilde to make his point. In my experience, meagre as it may be, Oscar Wilde is an author who can never be understood unless the reader reads between the lines. In other words, he will never directly say what he means--it is up to the audience to interpret what isn't there.

Bayard allows me to say definitive things about Oscar Wilde, whether I have any experience with him or not.

Everybody's Free (to Wear Sunscreen)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xfq_A8nXMsQ

This was my first encounter with anything by Baz Luhrmann. It was played on the radio a lot in 1998, so during my Sophomore year of college, though don't quote me on that. The highlight of this track is the text, in the form of a commencement address that was anecdotally mis-attributed to Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. I thought it was wonderful at the time, and while I don't completely subscribe to every bit of advice that is offered, I still think it is wonderful. I remember being very impressed that such a message was being carried over commercial radio.

I'd never seen the video before this morning, so I can't vouch for all of its images. There are a few sexual images, but nothing more offensive than the Dove body wash commercials I've been seeing on television lately.

This song won my loyalty as a Baz Luhrmann fan.

Introducing *Strictly Ballroom*

Strictly Ballroom is one of my favorite movies. It's the first movie in what has come to be known as Baz Luhrmann's Red Curtain trilogy, which also includes William Shakespeare's Romeo + Juliet, and Moulin Rouge. The movie started as a play that I think Baz and his friends wrote and performed while in college. It took a little while for me to win Michael over, but once he was won, he was won.

It is romantic, but as far as the storyline goes it is very conventional. It doesn't take long to figure out what kind of movie it is, and romantically there are no surprises. It is a light romance in that, while love is not treated as something trivial, there is no promise at the end that certain characters are destined to marry, though that is quite possible. There does seem to be a promise at the end that certain characters are going to stay married, which is one of my favorite things about the movie. The romance isn't the point.

Other than the storyline, I don't think that anything else about the movie is conventional. It is highly theatrical, and as its title would imply, involves a lot of dancing. If you know much about dancing yourself, you will quickly realize that most of the dancing is entirely made up for comic effect. If I remember correctly, only two of the actors in the film are real, true-to-life dancers.

Expect comedy (sometimes in the form of melodrama), expect wild costumes and make-up, and expect Australian actors. As I said, this is one of my favorite films.

Note to Self

You shall see below that I am full of questions this morning. This post is more in the way of a note of intention to myself.

The other night as I was cleaning up my kitchen I listened to the second volume in the Songs from the Voice collection called, Son of the Most High. It occured to me as I listened that this CD actually qualifies as Christmas Music as it contains songs that are a fitting way to be reminded of and inticipate the celebration of Christ's birth.

Several months ago I ordered one of the books that is part of the voice project. It is titled the last eyewitnesses: the final week with the following explanation on the cover that John relives Christ's last week before the crucifixion. This book was written in collaboration, and at the time I considered reading it and then writing a review for our church newsletter. The long and short of it is that I haven't read the book, but it recurrs to my attention now because of the Son CD. This is all very interesting too because Michael recently stated that he thinks we skip too quickly over the crucifixion to get to the ressurection, which we consider the good part of the story. Michael says that Christ probably spent a great deal of time preparing himself for and anticipating the sacrifice, and that we should do so as well. The reason why he links this to advent approaching Christmas I do not entirely understand, but remembering this book brings it back into my mind. Perhaps reading it, or reading in it, could be a beginning to materializing what my husband suggests. It's definitely worth an investigation.

If only I could organize my reading a little better. How many books can one person start in a week and really understand what is communicated by any of them?

The Picture of Dorian Gray

I read this book last week, and I promised my brother that I would post some my thoughts on it. It wasn't the most enjoyable reading I have done recently.

I first started thinking about this book upon seeing the movie The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen in which Dorian Gray was a character. I had of course heard of the book before then, but didn't know anything about it. More recently a Dorian Gray character appeared in a book I enjoyed by Jasper Fforde, The Fourth Bear, which is literature based parody of the detective novel. In The Fourth Bear Dorian Gray is a used car salesman who sells our hero, Jack Spratt (a person of ambiguous reality), a car which never sustains any visible damage no matter how it is abused. A painting of the car shows damage instead. Jasper Fforde is an interesting fellow, and has a cool website at http://www.jasperfforde.com/.

Now for Dorian Gray:

The book reads like a play, which isn't surprising considering that all of Wilde's other works were plays. I don't know whether or not he wrote any poetry. It was a little unnerving, to me that Lord Henry sounded like Rupert Everett in The Importance of Being Earnest in my mind. The book was slow to get started because Wilde had to set up the relationship between three major characters, Basil Hayward, the artist, Lord Henry, the unrecognizedly malicious influence, and Dorian Gray, the beautiful foppish sap. I was relieved that the novel was short. I have little desire to discuss the homoerotic elements of the story that Wilde critics seem to be obsessed with. They are there, and they are obvious, enough said.

Dorian Gray is essentially a modern day Solomon, lacking Solomon's wisdom. He tries everything, denying himself no pleasure, and encourages others to try these pleasures with him. Fortunately or unfortunately for the reader, Dorian's activities are mostly hinted at. One murder, and his involvement in several suicides are obvious exceptions to this.

The part of the book that interested me most was the part in which Dorian blames all of his evil deeds on the artist who painted his portrait, rather than the man who encouraged his vanity and hedonism. He goes so far as to acquit Lord Henry of any blame, though Lord Henry is the one who feeds Dorian's imagination with his double talk and backtracking, as well as his choice of reading material. Lord Henry almost always claims the opposite of whatever good sense or morality would dictate. The artist is the one man in the story to attempts to speak the truth in love, and what does he get for it? Murdered, and the body disposed in ashes.

In this story, evil definitely begets evil, and even Dorian's late attempts at being good turn themselves to more evil ends.

There's some deep analysis to be done there, though I find that I'm not particularly interested in doing it. I don't understand the critics claims that The Picture of Dorian Gray is actually a aestheticists manifesto rather than a cautionary offering. It's a shame to remain at the level of summary, knowing as I do that too much summary is a criticism often aimed at undergraduate writing, and as a sometime graduate student I am supposed to do something better than that.

The long and short of it is, I was ultimately disappointed in the book. It didn't meet my expectations and will not find a place on my recommended reading list. The film adaptation of Wilde's The Importance of Being Earnest, however, is great fun, especially since Colin Firth and Dame Judi Dench have leading roles.

British Television, My Favorite Genre

I love British television. Back when I lived with my parents and was able to receive public television, I used to watch all of the Britcoms that came on Saturday Nights: Are You Being Served, Keeping Up Appearances, Red Dwarf.

One night at my parents house I caught the 1978 Royal Command Performance of a television series called The Good Life, released as Good Neighbors in the United States. I found it captivating. The show was about a suburban married couple who disavow the comfort and security of conventional employment and instead become "self-sufficient." The reality is that while they have become independent of utilities and grocery stores and the like, they remain very much dependant on the help and encouragement of their next door neighbors who remain in the usual world that is the antithesis of their own. Tom and Barbara Good, the title characters, were adorable as, in this particular episode, Tom Good tried to make provision for a retirement that loomed twenty or so years in the distance.

I found that Netflix had the complete series 1-3 available in their catalogue, and somehow convinced Michael to give the series a chance. I told him I wouldn't make him watch it with me, but he eventually saw enough episodes to agree that it was a worthwhile viewing experience. He occasionally quotes a line here and there to make me laugh. Netflix now has Series 4 available through their "Watch It Now" feature, which I was so pleased to discover a week or so ago. It includes that Royal Command Performance I mentioned, as well as the final episode of the series in which the Goods are vandalized, and tempted to give up until Barbara reminds Tom what a good, if difficult, life it is.

I love the support the characters give one another. The next door neighbors are very important in the show, but Barbara Good, played by Felicity Kendall, is absolutely adorable--she is the one who attracted me to the series in the first place. The show aired from 1975-1978, right around the time I was born.