Monday, July 26, 2010
Musing Mondays: July 26
MizB at Should Be Reading asks, Do you review books? If so, for who?
As many of you know, I do review books! I'm a huge fan of the Goodreads First Reads opportunities. I've won a handful of books from that, and I review each one. I've also been lucky enough to review ARCs and recently published books thanks to publishers and contacts within the publishing industry.
My reviews are never biased in favor of the books I get for free versus the books I seek out at the library or the bookstore.
What about you? Do you review books?
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Review: A Wretched Man (RW Holmen)
Title: A Wretched Man
Author: RW Holmen
Publisher: Bascom Hill, 2010
Notes: I received this book from the publisher to review. Despite this, my review is not biased in favor of the book. Any opinion offered here is completely my own.
A brief summary: "Jesus authored no writings. Nor did any of those who followed him in the Galilee or during his fateful pilgrimage to Jerusalem. It fell to an outside to become the movement's reporter, memorialist, essayist, interpreter, and promoter—despite the opposition of James, the brother of Jesus. Paul the apostle. Paul the one untimely born. This is the story of Paul, a wretched man." (back cover blurb)
My thoughts: I approach books like these very carefully. I did a bit of background about Holmen before I started reading the book, and began in earnest after I satisfied my curiosity.
This book is a number of things. It is well-researched; Holmen clearly has a solid background in early Christianity and religious history. It is also well-written. When reading about Paul—or Paulos, as he is referred to in the novel—I felt that I had a more personalized understanding of who Paul was. Often accused as being anti-Semitic or a problematic Jewish Christian, Holmen addresses these issues. But more importantly, he presents Paul as human. Paul is as subject to human desires, human complexities, and human experiences as the rest of us. The best kind of book, in my opinion, is one that prompts you to think more, to pursue more knowledge. This book definitely incited that curiosity in me.
Some readers may worry that this book revolves around Paul's purported conflicted sexual orientation, but even devoutly religious individuals will find Holmen's handling of the matter to be deft. Some may even find Paul's reluctance to engage in supposedly unclean acts to be a testament to his faith. I would say that if this matter is the issue holding you back from reading this book, it shouldn't be. You may be pleasantly surprised.
While it might help to have some understanding of this time period or the religious and political issues at hand during and immediately after Jesus' death, it's not necessary. I found this book to actually be quite a good accompaniment to my studies of Jesus as a social revolutionary, upsetting the status quo. I felt like I gleaned a new understanding of the early Judeo-Christian world, which is pretty astounding after having taken four years of academic religion classes.
Moreover, I'm curious to speak to the author. What's next after this? How did his background inform his writing of A Wretched Man? I'd be curious to see how Holmen would approach Saint Augustine, but alas, I doubt he is that interested in Augustine, as Holmen is Lutheran.
Rating: 5 stars
Friday, July 23, 2010
Review: Crashers (Dana Haynes)
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Book Blogger Hop: July 22
Review: The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake (Aimee Bender)
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Updates
Friday, July 9, 2010
Book Blogger Hop: July 8
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Review: The Happiness Project (Gretchen Rubin)
This book is a personal journey—a memoir—where Gretchen Rubin both enhances her blog's content and adds new material. Her family is mentioned by name and given character and personality. You get a sense of Gretchen's personality as the book develops as well. I can kind of relate to her; I'm a list-maker, a task-doer, someone who likes structure and order.
At the same time, I always felt that Gretchen's blog was too hokey. I felt like it was preachy, and at times it seemed to miss the whole point of happiness. Spontaneity and fun and laughter seemed planned, stinted, or stiff.
This book isn't like that at all. But what I did find is that this book seems to speak more to the issue of mindfulness. Perhaps one of my 'splendid truths' is that mindfulness begets happiness. When a person is more mindful, he is more cognizant of his behavior and his actions.
I also think that this book sounds like a personal quest to feel right and to feel in control of one's own emotions and behaviors. I think the word 'happiness' makes cynics everywhere feel automatic scorn for the concept or the reasoning behind this book, but the undertaking is well-developed and actually quite interesting.
I find Gretchen to be an interesting and engaging narrator, though she certainly takes her happiness seriously. Even her lighthearted fun is quite serious in nature.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Review: The Purity Myth (Jessica Valenti)
A brief summary: "The United States is obsessed with virginity — from the media to schools to government agencies. In The Purity Myth Jessica Valenti argues that the country’s intense focus on chastity is damaging to young women. Through in-depth cultural and social analysis, Valenti reveals that powerful messaging on both extremes — ranging from abstinence curriculum to “Girls Gone Wild” infomercials — place a young woman’s worth entirely on her sexuality. Morals are therefore linked purely to sexual behavior, rather than values like honesty, kindness, and altruism. Valenti sheds light on the value — and hypocrisy — around the notion that girls remain virgin until they’re married by putting into context the historical question of purity, modern abstinence-only education, pornography, and public punishments for those who dare to have sex." (from Goodreads)
"The desirable virgin is sexy but not sexual. She's young, white, and skinny. She's a cheerleader, a baby sitter; she's accessible and eager to please (remember those ethics of passivity!). She's never a woman of color. She's never a low-income girl or a fat girl. She's never disabled. 'Virgin' is a designation for those who meet a certain standard of what women, especially younger women, are supposed to look like. As for how these young women are supposed to act? A blank slate is best." (p. 30)Valenti has a strong voice, citing statistics and facts with ease—but without getting overly technical. She reminds us that this obsession with virginity is connected to submission and youth, with a renewed interest in keeping women under thumb. But virginity in our contemporary society has become a commodity, with the commercialization of abstinence balls and virginity vouchers. How can we make virginity into a commodity, though, when there's no actual definition for it? Valenti's discussion of the definition of virginity—or lack thereof—is especially interesting.
Monday, July 5, 2010
Review: The Wings of the Sphinx (Andrea Camilleri)
I had high hopes for this book, but was a bit disappointed. The first 70 pages—roughly a third of the book—were extremely slow. The murder occurs, but there's no progress toward finding the killer. Instead, Inspected Montalbano (the protagonist) is featured prominently—or more accurately, his relationship problems with a woman named Livia, with whom he has had an on-again off-again relationship for years.
This book is heavily male-oriented. By that, I don't mean that only men would enjoy this book. But the primary characters—eccentric and almost cracky—are all men. Tommaseo works with Montalbano, and he's obsessed with victims' sex lives (or sex in general). Meanwhile, Catarella—kind of the police lackey—speaks with a hokey accent. (For example, he says "poissonally in poisson" a lot, or "personally in person.")
Montalbano is kind of an interesting protagonist. In this book he seems rather gloomy, but passing references to other events and other cases implies that he's not usually so glum. The weather and access to fresh fish seem to affect his moods greatly, and he takes pleasure in a good mid-day meal, regardless of the cases he works. I found Camilleri's inclusion of Montalbano's internal monologues to be quite funny as well. He also plays a crazy cop with unusual "interrogation" techniques in the examination of one suspect, and yells out multiplication tables to get the suspect to stop crying—an extremely funny scene.
I felt that the plot twisted and turned but ended up sort of where you would expect, despite some surprising instances that interrupt one's first thoughts. I would like to read the first in this series to get a better sense of Camilleri's writing and characters before passing further judgment; I found this book a bit difficult to follow at times.