Another Meme

From my friend Carrie at Reading to Know. The items in bold represent my own experiences.

1. Started my own blog
2. Slept under the stars (um...I don't think so)
3. Played in a band
4. Visited Hawaii (does living there count?)
5. Watched a meteor shower
6. Given more than I can afford to charity (this is slightly difficult to quantify...but I guess I have)
7. Been to Disneyland/world
8. Climbed a mountain
9. Held a praying mantis
10. Sung a solo (sadly, yes)
11. Bungee jumped
12. Visited Paris
13. Watched a lightning storm at sea
14. Taught myself an art from scratch
15. Adopted a child
16. Had food poisoning
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty
18. Grown my own vegetables
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France
20. Slept on an overnight train
21. Had a pillow fight
22. Hitchhiked (again...I think not)
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill
24. Built a snow fort
25. Held a lamb (well, I petted one; that's close enough)
26. Gone skinny dipping (only if the swimsuit accidentally came off)
27. Run a Marathon
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset
31. Hit a home run (hahahahahahahahaha!!!)
32. Been on a cruise
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person
34. Visited the birthplace of my ancestors
35. Seen an Amish community
36. Taught myself a new language
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David
41. Sung karaoke
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight
46. Been transported in an ambulance (is that actually an accomplishment?)
47. Had my portrait painted
48. Gone deep sea fishing
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris (as far as they'll let you go up...)
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling (and I got stung by about 200 jellyfish; never again)
52. Kissed in the rain
53. Played in the mud
54. Gone to a drive-in theater
55. Been in a movie (well, I was in a commercial once)
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business
58. Taken a martial arts class
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies
62. Gone whale watching
63. Got flowers for no reason
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma
65. Gone sky diving
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp
67. Bounced a check
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial (why on earth would I do that?)
71. Eaten Caviar
72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square
74. Toured the Everglades
75. Been fired from a job
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London
77. Broken a bone (a toe that's never healed properly)
78. Been on a speeding motorcycle
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
80. Published a book (I've copyrighted one)
81. Visited the Vatican
82. Bought a brand new car
83. Walked in Jerusalem
84. Had my picture in the newspaper
85. Read the entire Bible
86. Visited the White House (seen it; walked past it; no interest in going inside)
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
88. Had chickenpox
89. Saved someone’s life
90. Sat on a jury
91. Met someone famous
92. Joined a book club
93. Lost a loved one
94. Had a baby
95. Seen the Alamo in person
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake (why...?)
97. Been involved in a law suit (well, there was that goofy class-action suit...)
98. Owned a cell phone
99. Been stung by a bee

Feel free share on your own blog! :)

Book Review: Kristin Lavransdatter: The Wreath, by Sigrid Undset

Note: Kristin Lavransdatter was published in three parts, and I will be reviewing each part separately. The following review covers only Part I, The Wreath.

I've read other reviews of Kristin Lavransdatter, but for some reason I didn't know quite what to expect when I started reading it for myself. I think a part of me anticipated that it would be a rather dry tale of the life of a young woman in medieval Norway. This story is certainly a tale of the life of a young woman in medieval Norway: it is, however, anything but dry.

Kristin Lavransdatter is a rich and vibrant story about a young woman who faces choices that are as complex and believable as any of the choices that so-called modern characters face. I think that there is often a bias against medieval literature, in the belief that modern readers cannot relate to the lives of characters. It seems as though many people believe that all people in medieval literature are holy and obsessed with religion and thus that they have no connection to "real life" (whatever that is). The difference, I think, is not that the medieval person is particularly holy but that he measures his life by a different yardstick than that of the modern reader. And when you peel back the layers of what may seem at first to be religious obsession, you find people who are just as much in search of answers as modern readers.

Another difference between literature of the modern era and literature of the medieval tradition is that medieval literature seldom goes inside the character's mind; this is a development of a later age, and consequently it can make the medieval story seem emotionally distant. Undset Kristin Lavransdatter, however, wrote during the modern age, so she told her medieval story -- with its very medieval characters -- not only from the outside but also from the inside. As a result, readers are faced with the minds of medieval characters and find that those characters, and particularly the title character, think very much like they do.

The character of Kristin Lavransdatter is an unexpectedly complex one, and I suspect that without Undset's use of the omnipotent third-person narrator, she could easily come across as a flat one. Kristin keeps much to herself, and it is only when readers see into her thoughts that they begin to understand just what it is that motivates her. She is the eldest surviving child and heir of a well-to-do farmer, and she is her father's favorite and is considered to be the family's primary hope for continuity. At the age of fifteen, she is betrothed to the son of a nobleman. Kristin realizes how important the match is to her family, so she does not spend too much time worrying about whether or not it pleases her. It is not until a young man, who had been a close childhood friend, confesses his love for Kristin that she realizes the possibility for falling in love. And when this young man dies unexpectedly, Kristin further realizes that she shared his love and that she is no longer as willing to marry her betrothed. Her parents agree to send her to a convent for a year, where she will improve her education and spend some time preparing herself for her upcoming wedding. While at the convent, however, she meets and rapidly falls in love with another man -- Erlend Nikulausson, a charming and very handsome nobleman who also falls in love with her. But there is a problem: Erlend has been under the ban of the Church, because he seduced another man's wife and had two children by her. He has since repented, but his decision has left him with a mark of poor character. Kristin sees none of this, and for his part Erlend seems to fall genuinely in love with the teenage girl. They make vows to one another, and after considerable resistance from Kristin's family (as well as the socially shameful breaking of Kristin's betrothal to the other man), they are allowed to become engaged and to marry.

All of this seems straightforward enough, but it is when Undset begins to explore the thoughts of her characters, and especially of Kristin, that the story becomes fascinating. This is a girl who was raised in a devoutly Christian home, who has never questioned the path that she must take in life, and who knows clearly the difference between right and wrong. But when she begins to doubt her happiness with the man to whom she is betrothed and when she begins to fall in love with Erlend, the rubber meets the road, so to speak. Kristin must ask herself if she is willing to do what she knows to be right or if she is willing to accept the consequences to do what she knows full well to be wrong, when she knows that doing what is morally wrong has the potential for bringing her more happiness. Kristin ultimately chooses the latter. She gives herself to Erlend early on, and she is actually pregnant when they marry. She struggles with her decision along the way, but she never veers from the course that she has set, because she believes that she has more control over her happiness if she makes her own decisions than if she lets someone make the decisions for her. Now, let me state up front that I'm not agreeing or disagreeing with Kristin's decisions. Frankly, I don't know if I agree or disagree with them. On the one hand, it's very obvious that she makes some serious mistakes and that she knowingly sins on more than one occasion; on the other hand, I don't know that I wouldn't do the same thing if I was in her situation. I honestly have no idea what it feels like to be betrothed and expected to marry a certain man because he has been selected by my father and because the marriage will benefit my family. Everything inside me revolts against it, and I think that one of the points Undset is making is that many women felt the same way in Kristin's era; Kristin is one of the few who breaks the mold and forges her own path, however. At the same time, I don't even think that Undset is trying to say that Kristin does the right thing by rebelling against her parents and insisting upon marrying a man they don't approve of. More than once, she reveals the emotional turmoil that Kristin experiences as she struggles with her conscience, and she makes it clear that Kristin's decisions cost the family much of their happiness and cost Kristin her relationship with her father. One of the most poignant moments in the story comes right at the end (I'm referring only to Part I), when Kristin's wedding is over, and her father Lavrans must face the reality that he has been denying: that Kristin and Erlend have already been together and that his favorite child is not the pure bride he hoped her to be. But then Undset takes it one step further and considers a much deeper struggle that Lavrans faces. He has begun to understand that his daughter loves her husband very much, and he asks himself a question that he never dared ask -- could he too have fallen in love and married someone for love? He has always been faithful to his wife Ragnfrid, but he has never really loved her. Her relationship with her has been based on their Christian duty, but he knows that he has denied her the emotional connection with him that she craved. Lavrans realizes that a part of his anger toward his daughter is jealousy, that she has found happiness by doing what she shouldn't do, while he has only found a sense of satisfaction in doing what he should.

Again, I'm not saying that Undset is really making a statement or even indicating that Lavrans made a bad choice by following the path of morality, and Kristin made a good one by resisting moral restraints. She is simply portraying human emotions for what they are and giving modern readers an indication of the way that medieval people might have thought. The result is a book that is, at moments, emotionally draining, because there are no clear answers to the questions that are raised. Kristin will proceed in her life with her new husband. There will be consequences, but she has still gotten what she wanted for now. Lavrans, who has spent his lifetime in doing the right thing, will continue down the path of morality but now with the sense that something is missing in his life.

I suppose that, to some extent, this story is deeply modern (and maybe even post-modern) in the sense that it leaves the characters searching for something that the world might not be able to offer. But this also makes it a very Christian story, and Undset's representation of Catholicism in medieval Norway is very respectful. At its core, I suspect that this is just a very human story about the mind and the heart and about how at the very root we are all alike in our struggle between doing what is right and doing what we want.

Year of publication (for Part I): 1920
Number of pages: 336

Fine Art: The Bizarre Mind of William Blake

I'm including this under Fine Art, because I'm not sure Blake can be categorized under poetry alone. He was certainly one of the most unique and creative men of his era and often gets overlooked, because he -- shall we say -- marched to the beat of his own drum. Blake was an engraver by trade, and he drew and illuminated by hand many of the illustrations for his poetic works. He even varied the colors among editions. This is but one illustrated version of "The Tyger" in existence. (See the William Blake Archive for others.)

For those who are interested in the text of the poem, here it is:

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare sieze the fire?

And what shoulder, & what art.
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

(Source)

No, I don't have any idea what the poem means. I've heard everything from, "The poem is discussing Christianity," to, "The poem speaking out against industrialization." It may seem simple, but with Blake the simple is always deceptive.

Saint Calendar: Martin of Tours

11 November

Born to pagan parents; his father was a Roman military officer and tribune. Martin was raised in Pavia, Italy. Discovered Christianity, and became a catechumen in his early teens. Joined the Roman imperial army at age 15, serving in a ceremonial unit that acted as the emperor's bodyguard, rarely exposed to combat. Cavalry officer, and assigned to garrison duty in Gaul.

Trying to live his faith, he refused to let his servant to wait on him. Once, while on horseback in Amiens in Gaul (modern France), he encountered a beggar. Having nothing to give but the clothes on his back, he cut his heavy officer's cloak in half, and gave it to the beggar. Later he had a vision of Christ wearing the cloak.

Baptised into the Church at age 18. Just before a battle, Martin announced that his faith prohibited him from fighting. Charged with cowardice, he was jailed, and his superiors planned to put him in the front of the battle. However, the invaders sued for peace, the battle never occurred, and Martin was released from military service at Worms. Spiritual student of Saint Hilary at Poitiers.

On a visit to Lombardy to see his parents, he was robbed in the mountains - but managed to convert one of the thieves. At home he found that his mother had converted, but his father had not. The area was strongly Arian, and openly hostile to Catholics. Martin was badly abused by the heretics, at one point even by the order of the Arian bishop. Learning that the Arians had gained the upper hand in Gaul and exiled Saint Hilary, Martin fled to the island of Gallinaria (modern Isola d'Albenga).

Learning that the emperor had authorized Hilary's return, Martin ran to him in 361, then became a hermit for ten years in the area now known as Ligugé. A reputation for holiness attracted other monks, and they formed what would become the Benedictine abbey of Ligugé. Preached and evangelized through the Gallic countryside. Many locals held strongly to the old beliefs, and tried to intimidate Martin by dressing as the old Roman gods, and appearing to him at night; Martin continued to win converts. He destroyed old temples, and built churches on the land. Friend of Saint Liborius, bishop of Le Mans.

When the bishop of Tours died in 371, Martin was the immediate choice to replace him. Martin declined, citing unworthiness Rusticus, a wealthy citizen of Tours, claimed his wife was ill and asking for Martin; when he arrived in the city, he was declared bishop by popular acclamation, consecrated on 4 July 372.

Moved to a hermit's cell near Tours. Other monks joined him, and a new house, Marmoutier, soon formed. He rarely left his monastery or see city, but sometimes went to Trier to plead with the emperor for his city, his church, or his parishioners. Once when he went to ask for lenience for a condemned prisoner, an angel woke the emperor to tell him that Martin was waiting to see him; the prisoner was reprieved.

Martin himself was given to visions, but even his contemporaries sometimes ascribed them to his habit of lengthy fasts. An extensive biography of Martin was written by Sulpicius Severus. He was the first non-martyr to receive the cultus of a saint.

Died 8 November 397 at Candes, Tours, France of natural causes. Buried 11 November in the Cemetery of the Poor.

[Note: There's a very long list of patronage -- everything from Buenos Aires to geese -- that I don't care to transfer onto the blog. If you're curious, just click on the link for Patron Saints Index below.]

_____________________________________


Text derived from Patron Saints Index.

Poetry Study: George Herbert

"Colossians III.3"
By George Herbert

My words and thoughts do both express this notion,
That Life hath with the sun a double motion
The first Is straight, and our diurnal friend,
The other Hid, and doth obliquely bend.
One life is wrapt In flesh, and tends to earth.
The other winds towards Him, whose happy birth
Taught me to live here so, That still one eye
Should aim and shoot at that which Is on high:
Quitting with daily labor all My pleasure,
To gain at harvest an eternal Treasure.

Unfortunately, the bolded words aren't showing up very clearly, but if you look closely you can see them. I tend to think that this kind of a thing falls more into the category of a cheap trick, but then again George Herbert was a truly brilliant poet; so, I'll attribute his decision to include words in bold to his creativity. And all things considered, it is rather fun to see and quite difficult to do.

Book Meme from Carrie

My friend Carrie at Reading to Know posted this meme (originally from Sarah M. at Library Hospital). The goal is to list favorite books from A to Z. Since I have a difficult time determining my favorite books, I'm going to put down books that I've enjoyed, books that I've admired, and books that have made an impact on me.

Well, here goes.

A -- Anna Karenina, by Leo Tolstoy
B -- Brideshead Revisited, by Evelyn Waugh
C -- Canterbury Tales, by Geoffrey Chaucer
D -- Divine Comedy, by Dante
E -- Ecclesiastical History of the English People, by Bede
F -- Federalist Papers, by Alexander Hamilton, James Madison, and John Jay
G -- Gaudy Night, by Dorothy Sayers
H -- Heart of Darkness, by Joseph Conrad
I -- The Importance of Being Earnest, by Oscar Wilde
J -- The Book of Job (contains some of my favorite verses in the Bible)
K -- Kalevala
L -- Lord of the Rings, by J.R.R. Tolkien (no surprise there...)
M -- Mere Christianity, by C.S. Lewis
N -- The Nine Tailors, by Dorothy Sayers
O -- Oedipus Rex, by Sophocles
P -- Pride and Prejudice, by Jane Austen
Q -- Quo Vadis?, by Henryk Sienkiewicz (well, it does start with "q")
R -- Rebecca, by Daphne du Maurier
S -- Silmarillion, by J.R.R. Tolkien
T -- To Kill a Mockingbird, by Harper Lee
U --
V -- The Virgin in the Ice, by Ellis Peters
W -- The Well-Trained Mind, by Jessie Wise and Susan Wise Bauer
X -- (Unsolicited opinion: This should be a freebie category.)
Y -- Poetry of W.B. Yeats
Z -- Well...I read a book by Emile Zola; but that's all I have for "z"

And I can't come up with anything for "u."

Book Review: Mystery and Manners, by Flannery O'Connor

My mom read this with her book club several months back, and ever since then she's been telling me that I'd love it. She brought it with her for me to read, and as much as it pains me to say this, she was right: I do love it.

I read several of Flannery O'Connor's short stories in college and enjoyed them immensely. There's a major distinction, however, between reading and enjoying an author's stories and reading and enjoying an author's opinions about writing; and Mystery and Manners is just that -- Flannery O'Connor's opinions about writing. Too often, an author becomes absurdly vague about the work of being a writer and tries to make vast (and inevitably, vague) comments that accomplish nothing and only succeed in leaving the reader confused. O'Connor is far more honest and down-to-earth about writing. For her, writing is something that people do because they enjoy it and are good at it. There is no formula for a good novel or short story anymore than there is light pouring out of heaven and shining inspiration upon the lucky author. And more than this, O'Connor was a Catholic and considered her work not only from the perspective of a successful writer but also from the perspective of a Christian. She comments,

This is first of all a matter of vocation, and a vocation is a limiting factor which extends even to the kind of material that the writer is able to apprehend imaginitively. The writer can choose what he writes about but he cannot choose what he is able to make live, and so far as he is concerned, a living deformed character is acceptable and a dead whole one is not. The Christian writer particularly will feel that whatever his initial gift is, it comes from God; and no matter how minor a gift it is, he will not be willing to destroy it by trying to use it outside its proper limits.

I was happy to read this for several reasons. On the one hand, it's nice to see a writer who is willing to point out that not everyone will be skilled in every kind of writing. I am not a writer of fiction and likely never will be. But I have my own strengths as a writer, and I'm willing to employ them to the best of my abilities.

More than this, however, it's refreshing to see a writer talk about writing as a Christian and what this entails. O'Connor didn't write what we would refer to in this day and age as "Christian fiction," but she did write stories with strong Christian principles. She goes into more detail about being a Catholic writer in a post-Christian world throughout Mystery and Manners, and her comments made a strong impression on me.

I'd have to say that a book like this is an acquired taste, because not every reader will enjoy a book of essays by Flannery O'Connor. If you don't think you'd enjoy this, though, I recommend looking into some of O'Connor's work (short stories as well as novels). She's a true American literary treasure, and I'm sorry that more people aren't familiar with her work.

Year of publication: 1969
Number of pages: 237

Flannery O'Connor on Education

I'm reading a book of essays by Flannery O'Connor right now (with hope, to be blogged on tomorrow), and I came across a quote that struck me as painfully true regarding education, and particularly the study of literature, in the modern world:

Ours is the first age in history which has asked the child what he would tolerate learning, but that is a part of the problem with which I am not equipped to deal. The devil of Educationism that possesses us is the kind that can be "cast out only by prayer and fasting." No one has yet come along strong enough to do it. In other ages the attention of children was held by Homer and Virgil, among others, but, by the reverse evolutionary process, that is no longer possible; our children are too stupid now to enter the past imaginatively. No one asks if algebra pleases him or if he finds it satisfactory that some French verbs are irregular, but if he prefers Hersey to Hawthorne, his taste must prevail.

Regarding public education, it seems to me that this continues to be the case (and algebra even succumbed for a time to the "New Math" era), but I wonder if the homeschoolers have proven strong enough to combat some of the issues that plague the modern approach to education. If they haven't overcome them, they have certainly dealt them a decisive blow.

And one final quote, because it delighted me. (She is talking about the duty of English teachers to select great literature for study.)

And if the student finds that this is not to his taste? Well, that is regrettable. Most regrettable. His taste should not be consulted; it is being formed.

I think I'm going to add that to every syllabus and worksheet I hand out :)