Molly and I had taken the kids (at the time, we had three) to the photo studio for a sitting. My search for my birth-mother had just recently come to a close - I knew who she was, and how to contact her. All I was waiting for was for my intermediary to make the first contact with her, and I wanted to have a current family portrait to give her, once it happened.
We walked through the front door after the sitting, and the phone was ringing. I picked up the phone; it was Annette, my intermediary. "You have a very happy lady on your hands," she said. . .
-------------------------
Earlier that Thursday afternoon, Annette had called my birth-mother. She was busy preparing her house to receive weekend guests at her home.
Annette identified herself, then said, "I'm calling concerning material of a very personal and confidential nature. Do you have time to talk?"
My birth-mother was beginning to get annoyed with Annette's slowness at coming to the point, but just said Yes, she could talk.
So Annette just plowed ahead. "I am involved in a search for the birth-mother of someone you might have known as [my birth-name], born on [my birthday]. Can you help me?"
She was stunned. She'd actually had some pretty solid inklings that I was on her trail - I'd been to visit her aunt a couple weeks previously, and her aunt had called her immediately, telling her about this 'nice young man' who'd been to visit her, asking questions about her family. Hearing my first name (which was the same one she'd given me when I was born), and my approximate age, she immediately suspected that her long-lost son was searching for her, and getting close. But even so, she hadn't allowed herself to really believe it could be true. Finally, she told Annette, "I'm the person you're looking for; you don't need to look any further." Sobbing, she assured Annette that she was OK, that these were tears of joy.
They talked at some length. Birth-mom was concerned that I was mad at her for giving me away, but Annette assured her that my motives were purely of gratitude. She also learned that she was three times a grandmother, which took her back quite a bit; she had only adopted her daughter Sarah three years previously, and the possibility of grandchildren had never even entered her mind. Finally, Annette declined to tell her any more about me, insisting rather that she should call me herself. Annette only asked for some time to call and let me know that she'd be calling. . .
-------------------------
After Annette called me, I was pretty completely distracted, waiting for The Call. A couple friends called with small items of business, and I jumped on the phone each time, before quickly shooing them off. Finally, about 8:30, the phone rang again, and a woman on the other end gave her name (which I immediately recognized as my birth-mother's), saying "I'm your birth-mother."
"I know," I answered. "I'm so glad to hear from you."
Even though I'd never heard her voice, it was very comfortable to me. And she was listening just as intently to me; one of her first comments was how much my voice sounded like her father's and her brother's.
As soon as Molly figured out who I was talking to, she ran screaming to the neighbor's house, her close friend from our community. "It's HER!" she shrieked. "He's talking to HER!"
We ended up talking for an hour and a half, and neither of us could bear to end the conversation - just let me hear your voice a little while longer. . .
-------------------------
That was my first contact with my birth-mother. In some ways, it was the beginning of a 'whirlwind romance' between my birth-mother and me. The following few weeks were a blizzard of letters and phone calls, every letter obsolete before it arrived, since we'd talk on the phone in the meantime. We dug through old photos to send to each other, and it was like we were trying to undo 33 years of separation in 33 days. A little over a month later, I flew out to meet her at her home, and the following spring, she came to our house to celebrate my 34th birthday with us. And just that fast, we became part of each other's lives and families.
But it all started September 28th, 1989, and for that, I give thanks to God. . .
-------------------------
(*edit*) As long as we're on the topic of significant anniversaries, last Thursday, September 24th, was also the 10th anniversary of 7M's accident, which is, of course, a major miracle in the life of our family. You'll have to forgive me for letting it slide past before bringing it to your attention; the date hasn't quite gotten seared into my brain the way other 'anniversaries' have, and I had to go back and look it up; we were a little busy, and kinda distracted that day. . .
Monday, September 28, 2009
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Life Goes On. . .
It's been awhile since I gave a general update on the Jones kids, and now seems an opportune time to send out another one. . .
1F has been making steady progress ('steadier' at some times than others, but overall, the trends are all positive). She's been back in school for the past couple years, getting good grades, and slowly getting her head ramped back up into 'Academic Mode'. This semester, she's taking two classes, so she might actually finish her degree before she's 40. Her choices in men have also trended upward, although not quite to the level that Molly and I might have hoped for, just yet. Her last beau was a decent-enough guy, and treated her like a queen; he's also a 40-something divorcee who doesn't have his driver's license just at the moment (and you can read between the lines on that). Mostly, Molly and I would like to see 1F develop a stronger sense of her own self, apart from what any man thinks of her at the moment. She just recently moved into a house of single 20-something women from our community (including her sister), which is probably a good move for her. . .
2F is doing really well. Since she got back from Detroit, she's been working in the campus outreach that our community runs over at Mega-State U, and really enjoying it. She enjoys working with the college kids, and she really enjoys her friendships with the other staff. I know she'd like to get married at some point (there's the small matter of getting a suitable fellow to actually 'court' her, but, you know, all in good time), and Molly and I would like to see her finish her degree (just, you know, for the sake of having that done, and in her pocket). But on the whole, she just seems really happy right now.
3M is still pretty much scuffling. He has the sense that he really could, and should, be doing better than he is, but his own lack of self-confidence keeps him from aiming higher, a lot of the time (some low-grade 'mental health' issues haven't helped in that regard). He's been living with his girlfriend for the past year, which we're not very happy about. But she's a nice enough young woman, and takes good care of him. The longer they're together, though, the more it seems like they're both sorta feeding each other's 'issues'.
4M is newly off to college. Well, not actually 'off' anywhere; he's going to the local community college (on a full-tuition scholarship that will feed him into Mega-State U, if he keeps his grades up), and living in the basement apartment at home (when we bought the house nine years ago, that was one of the nice attractions of the house - a place where our college kids could be at home, but still have 'a place of their own'). The transition is the occasion for some anxiety on his part - he senses that he'll have to knuckle down on his schoolwork more that he ever had to in high school. But that's an entirely appropriate, and salutary, realization for him to arrive at. . .
The hits just seem to keep coming for 5M. He was promoted to the varsity football team in the middle of last season, and ended the season as a starting linebacker. So he was eagerly looking forward to this fall's season. But in one of the first practices back in August, he stepped in a hole, and ended up requiring knee surgery (I mean, come on - it would be one thing if he'd even been hit; but stepping in a hole? sheesh), which means football will have to wait for his senior year. Poor kid. But, he's mainly taking a pretty upbeat approach to it; he took an after-school job (since, what the heck, he doesn't have football practice), and is enjoying having money in his pocket. Still just a great kid. I hope he can maintain that when the world is buffeting him full-strength about the head and shoulders. . .
6F is a high-school freshman (freshwoman?) this year. And that is freaking me out, just a little. She has always been my 'Little Peanut', and getting my head around the notion of her as a high-school student has been quite a stretch. She seems to be doing OK, choosing good friends, and all that, although her tendency to be absent-minded and a little air-headed ends up causing her parents more heartburn than they'd hoped for. She's also developing a first-rate, 'Princess-level' case of teenage snottiness. Lord, have mercy. . .
7M is a sixth-grader this year, which means middle school. Lord, have mercy again. He has actually done some significant growing-up in the last year. He's as emotionally intense as he's ever been, but he's learning to do better at controlling himself when his emotions flare. Right at the moment, he's playing four musical intruments - piano, trumpet, recorder, and he's just lately taken up the guitar. When he's bored, or stressed, he'll just kinda rotate through the cycle, from one instrument to the next, and then start over at the beginning.
And 8M is still the youngest. And still a chatterbox. He's growing by leaps and bounds right at the moment. Like his just-older brother, he's showing some signs of brilliance (Molly and I recently took him to a restaurant, and his meal cost $3.99; out of the blue, he said, "If I had two of these, it would be $7.98"; yeef). We'll see where that ends up.
Not much to report on my own behalf, right at the moment; I just passed 1000 miles on my bicycle for the year, last weekend. And, as of this moment, I'm still employed (and being paid!) by HugeMassive Corp., which is no small thing.
And that's the State of the Joneses, more-or-less up to the minute. It's nice to not have so much of the crazy drama and intensity that we had a few years ago. With eight kids (and, for the time being at least, it's still 'only eight'), just normal everyday life is plenty. . .
1F has been making steady progress ('steadier' at some times than others, but overall, the trends are all positive). She's been back in school for the past couple years, getting good grades, and slowly getting her head ramped back up into 'Academic Mode'. This semester, she's taking two classes, so she might actually finish her degree before she's 40. Her choices in men have also trended upward, although not quite to the level that Molly and I might have hoped for, just yet. Her last beau was a decent-enough guy, and treated her like a queen; he's also a 40-something divorcee who doesn't have his driver's license just at the moment (and you can read between the lines on that). Mostly, Molly and I would like to see 1F develop a stronger sense of her own self, apart from what any man thinks of her at the moment. She just recently moved into a house of single 20-something women from our community (including her sister), which is probably a good move for her. . .
2F is doing really well. Since she got back from Detroit, she's been working in the campus outreach that our community runs over at Mega-State U, and really enjoying it. She enjoys working with the college kids, and she really enjoys her friendships with the other staff. I know she'd like to get married at some point (there's the small matter of getting a suitable fellow to actually 'court' her, but, you know, all in good time), and Molly and I would like to see her finish her degree (just, you know, for the sake of having that done, and in her pocket). But on the whole, she just seems really happy right now.
3M is still pretty much scuffling. He has the sense that he really could, and should, be doing better than he is, but his own lack of self-confidence keeps him from aiming higher, a lot of the time (some low-grade 'mental health' issues haven't helped in that regard). He's been living with his girlfriend for the past year, which we're not very happy about. But she's a nice enough young woman, and takes good care of him. The longer they're together, though, the more it seems like they're both sorta feeding each other's 'issues'.
4M is newly off to college. Well, not actually 'off' anywhere; he's going to the local community college (on a full-tuition scholarship that will feed him into Mega-State U, if he keeps his grades up), and living in the basement apartment at home (when we bought the house nine years ago, that was one of the nice attractions of the house - a place where our college kids could be at home, but still have 'a place of their own'). The transition is the occasion for some anxiety on his part - he senses that he'll have to knuckle down on his schoolwork more that he ever had to in high school. But that's an entirely appropriate, and salutary, realization for him to arrive at. . .
The hits just seem to keep coming for 5M. He was promoted to the varsity football team in the middle of last season, and ended the season as a starting linebacker. So he was eagerly looking forward to this fall's season. But in one of the first practices back in August, he stepped in a hole, and ended up requiring knee surgery (I mean, come on - it would be one thing if he'd even been hit; but stepping in a hole? sheesh), which means football will have to wait for his senior year. Poor kid. But, he's mainly taking a pretty upbeat approach to it; he took an after-school job (since, what the heck, he doesn't have football practice), and is enjoying having money in his pocket. Still just a great kid. I hope he can maintain that when the world is buffeting him full-strength about the head and shoulders. . .
6F is a high-school freshman (freshwoman?) this year. And that is freaking me out, just a little. She has always been my 'Little Peanut', and getting my head around the notion of her as a high-school student has been quite a stretch. She seems to be doing OK, choosing good friends, and all that, although her tendency to be absent-minded and a little air-headed ends up causing her parents more heartburn than they'd hoped for. She's also developing a first-rate, 'Princess-level' case of teenage snottiness. Lord, have mercy. . .
7M is a sixth-grader this year, which means middle school. Lord, have mercy again. He has actually done some significant growing-up in the last year. He's as emotionally intense as he's ever been, but he's learning to do better at controlling himself when his emotions flare. Right at the moment, he's playing four musical intruments - piano, trumpet, recorder, and he's just lately taken up the guitar. When he's bored, or stressed, he'll just kinda rotate through the cycle, from one instrument to the next, and then start over at the beginning.
And 8M is still the youngest. And still a chatterbox. He's growing by leaps and bounds right at the moment. Like his just-older brother, he's showing some signs of brilliance (Molly and I recently took him to a restaurant, and his meal cost $3.99; out of the blue, he said, "If I had two of these, it would be $7.98"; yeef). We'll see where that ends up.
Not much to report on my own behalf, right at the moment; I just passed 1000 miles on my bicycle for the year, last weekend. And, as of this moment, I'm still employed (and being paid!) by HugeMassive Corp., which is no small thing.
And that's the State of the Joneses, more-or-less up to the minute. It's nice to not have so much of the crazy drama and intensity that we had a few years ago. With eight kids (and, for the time being at least, it's still 'only eight'), just normal everyday life is plenty. . .
Friday, September 4, 2009
Another One For the Books
Finishing what I started in the previous post. . .
Before I get back to the book list ‘proper’, I’ll take a quick detour to mention a few authors for whom I’ve had various and sundry ‘fetishes’, and read large numbers of their books, just because I enjoyed their style, or content, or whatever. . .
When Molly and I were first married, a friend recommended that I read James Michener, so I picked up a copy of The Source, and I was hooked. Michener’s epics of historical fiction just absolutely grabbed my brain for a few years, to the point that Molly took to referring to Michener as my ‘other woman’ – I’ve probably read close to a dozen of his tomes. A Michener novel is quite a commitment – most of them are upwards of 1000 pages – but by the time you’ve finished one, you’ve just about had a college course in the history of wherever the subject of the novel is. The Source (on Israel / the Holy Land) is probably my favorite of his novels, although The Covenant (South Africa) and Hawaii are also tremendous.
I also went on a Michael Crichton jag for a while. I read Jurassic Park (before the movie came out, thankyouverymuch), which I really enjoyed. Just the whole premise of cloning extinct pre-historic critters was intriguing (dinosaurs are quite a stretch, but I wouldn’t be terribly surprised to see a cloned mammoth before I die. . .), but his comments on the possibility of ‘destroying the planet’ were pretty insightful, I thought. From there, I read The Andromeda Strain, Sphere, and The Lost World before the impulse waned. Crichton is very adept at getting his readers to keep turning the page, but his books (at least, those that I’ve read) have in common that, after a certain point, the author seems to lose interest and just wrap up the story as quickly as he can. Especially for an author with Crichton’s story-telling gifts, his books have some of the worst, most clichéd endings I’ve ever read.
Going back to the beginning, when I was a kid, I read pretty much everything by Dr. Seuss that I could get my hands on. And what I didn’t read as a kid, I read to my own kids. My favorites are what I call his ‘imaginative’ books, especially McElligott’s Pool, On Beyond Zebra (‘because most people stop at the Z; but not me’) and If I Ran the Zoo (which has gotten credit for coining the word ‘nerd’, and thus is pivotal for my own life). One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish (which is like an ‘early reader’ version of McElligott) and Oh, the Thinks You Can Think! are also among my kids’ favorites. And the books starring Horton the Elephant hold a special place in my heart – Horton Hears a Who! (‘a person’s a person, no matter how small’) and Horton Hatches the Egg (‘I meant what I said, and I said what I meant – an elephant’s faithful, one hundred percent!’). And pretty much anything else he wrote. . .
Lewis and Chesterton and Kreeft, whose books I mentioned in the previous post, would also fall into this category of ‘Authors of Whom I’ve Read Everything I Could Get My Hands On’. But, since I already mentioned them, I won’t repeat myself here. . .
-------------------------
Returning to the book list, a few books on science and mathematics (just to give a bit of air to my Inner Nerd) –
Faith of a Physicist, by John Polkinghorne. Polkinghorne is a world-class particle physicist, and also an ordained Anglican priest. This is one of the best books I’ve come across, as far as presenting the deep harmony between the Christian and ‘scientific’ worldviews. Polkinghorne’s Belief In God In an Age of Science is also excellent. I’ll also mention a couple other books – The Road of Science and the Ways to God, by Stanley Jaki, develops the idea that the intelligibility of the universe points to its Creator. And Genesis and the Big Bang, by Gerald Schroeder, is especially interesting; the author is a world-class physicist, and an Orthodox Jew, and his Jewish presentation of ‘natural theology’ is wonderfully fascinating.
Fermat’s Last Theorem, by Amir Aczel. A stimulating account (OK, maybe just ‘stimulating’ to a certain type of mind. . .) of Andrew Wiles’ solution of one of the great, long-standing ‘unsolved problems’ of mathematics, which, by the time it finishes, provides a pretty comprehensive tour of mathematical history.
Beyond the Third Dimension, by Thomas Banchoff. I first engaged the concept of ‘four-dimensional space’ (or space-time) when I was in high school, and found it to be very ‘mind-expanding’ (sort of like LSD, without the flashbacks). I have carried that fascination with me through most of my life. Banchoff’s book is a solid, comprehensive account of four-dimensional (and higher-dimensional) space, and what it might mean, and how to think in (or through) it. . .
-------------------------
A few history books -
History of the English-Speaking Peoples, by Winston Churchill. This four-volume set fed my Inner Anglophile, and helped me understand my cultural heritage from even before Jamestown and Plymouth. It also helped me to better understand my 'cultural kinship' with folks like Aussies and Canadians (did you know that there were 17 British colonies in North America? But only 13 of them joined the 'rebellion'; the four that didn't formed the basis for what would become Canada), as well as to have a 'wider perspective' on history than is typically afforded students in American high schools (eg, the fact that England had a little thing going on with a fellow named Napoleon, might've had something to do with why the fledgling USA could successfully prosecute the War of 1812 against the 'superpower' British. . .)
The Discoverers, by Daniel Boorstin. A fascinating account of innovation and creativity, which wanders into a multitude of really interesting discussions, on mankind's growing understanding of time, space, the world, the universe, etc, etc. The history itself is simply fascinating, but Boorstin also develops a thesis of 'Illusions of Knowledge' - that when we think we know all there is to know about something, it becomes an obstacle to innovation and creativity. (As a footnote here, I’ll include To Engineer Is Human, in which author Henry Petroski gives a fascinating account of the role of failure in successful engineering design, including how the Tacoma Narrows Bridge disaster led to the design of my beloved Mackinac Bridge).
The Conquerors, by Allan Eckert. Eckert has written a six-volume set of 'narrative histories', which read like novels, but are in fact solidly documented histories, generally focused on the 'European conquest' of the United States (and not at all in a 'Euro-centric' manner; his respect and sympathy for the Indians are obvious, and he does not hesitate to present the dark side of the history we learned in school). The Conquerors (third in the series) covers the events that have come to be called Pontiac's Uprising, and so large chunks of the story take place in Michigan - most particularly Detroit and Michilimackinac, places I've been to, and so I can more-or-less easily imagine the settings for the stories Eckert tells. Any of the other volumes of the set are also excellent. . .
The Rise of Christianity, by Rodney Stark. Stark's 'sociological history' of early Christianity is a fascinating account of how a small sect of a few dozen people in Palestine grew to the point of comprising a majority of the Roman Empire within barely three centuries. Stark's research methods are quite unique, and he ends up telling a fascinating story on a much more 'mundane' level than typical 'Names-and-Dates' histories. I'll try not to spoil it for you, but basically, Christians did two things significantly better than their pagan Roman neighbors - they took care of the sick (which, in a day of periodic pandemic plagues, was no small thing), and they welcomed children into their families (often taking in children who had been abandoned by their neighbors). Which seems like it might have pertinence to the present day and age. . .
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And finally, a few of my favorite books of fiction –
Love In the Ruins, by Walker Percy; with this book, Percy earned a place on my short list of favorite authors. For having been written in 1971, this is a remarkably ‘current’ book; sort of the Culture War a generation in advance. Percy writes with wickedly wry humor, and he makes some sharp commentary on a wide range of topics, including sex, race, wealth, marriage, Christianity, etc, etc (which just happen to include several of my own favorite topics). . .
The Brothers Karamazov, by Fyodor Dostoevsky; maybe the greatest of all ‘Russian novels’, but even more probably the greatest of all ‘Christian novels’ (if there can be said to be such a thing). Dostoevsky presents deep insights into the ‘Problem of Pain’, and the ‘Mystery of Evil’, and the ways in which we’re all sort-of ‘walking blind’ through our lives in this world. . .
A Canticle for Leibowitz, by Walter Miller; James Michener actually put me onto this book in probably my least-favorite of all his books I’ve read (Space, if anyone’s wondering). On the face of it, it’s a fairly typical sci-fi book about the rebuilding of society in the aftermath of a nuclear holocaust, but it’s full of solid thoughts on human nature and some really sharp bits of tongue-in-cheek humor.
Huckleberry Finn, by Mark Twain; I’ve long considered this to be the absolute greatest of all American novels, by the greatest American writer. I’ve had a few arguments with folks at my kids’ school, who want to ban it over its use of the ‘N-word’. Try as I might to convince them that that radically misses the point, some folks are just hard to convince. . .
The Lord of the Rings, by JRR Tolkien; this almost feels like what I said in the previous post about the Bible – it’s almost too ‘obvious’ a choice. But from the first time I read it, I’ve been blown away by Tolkien’s invention of entire languages and histories. And Frodo has always been the least bit ‘emblematic’ for my own life – much as I might personally despise ‘adventures’, they keep coming to me, whether I want them or not. . .
Brave New World, by Aldous Huxley; often paired with Orwell's 1984 under the heading of ‘Future Dystopias’, I’ve thought that BNW is a sharper statement directed at the modern West, and where a society motivated purely by pleasure, enabled by technology, leads. And what real Humanity looks like, in contrast. . .
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And one more book - Another Sort of Learning, by JV Schall, a delightfully odd book (I mean, in the preface, he seamlessly connects Eric Voegelin, EF Schumacher, and Mad magazine), for people like me who got all the way through college without really getting 'educated'. It contains 21 essays, on an eclectic range of topics, and 37 associated book lists. Probably the book that got me started on the whole 'book lists' idea in the first place. . .
So there you have it. Books that have formed my mind, books that I liked, books that I recommend to my friends, whatever. Way more than fifteen, by the time it’s all said and done, but it is what it is (and, in the immortal words of Popeye, I yam what I yam. . .). And the thing is, a month from now, I'll probably think of a dozen other books that I should've included. Oh, well; for here and now, anyway, this is what you get. . .
Before I get back to the book list ‘proper’, I’ll take a quick detour to mention a few authors for whom I’ve had various and sundry ‘fetishes’, and read large numbers of their books, just because I enjoyed their style, or content, or whatever. . .
When Molly and I were first married, a friend recommended that I read James Michener, so I picked up a copy of The Source, and I was hooked. Michener’s epics of historical fiction just absolutely grabbed my brain for a few years, to the point that Molly took to referring to Michener as my ‘other woman’ – I’ve probably read close to a dozen of his tomes. A Michener novel is quite a commitment – most of them are upwards of 1000 pages – but by the time you’ve finished one, you’ve just about had a college course in the history of wherever the subject of the novel is. The Source (on Israel / the Holy Land) is probably my favorite of his novels, although The Covenant (South Africa) and Hawaii are also tremendous.
I also went on a Michael Crichton jag for a while. I read Jurassic Park (before the movie came out, thankyouverymuch), which I really enjoyed. Just the whole premise of cloning extinct pre-historic critters was intriguing (dinosaurs are quite a stretch, but I wouldn’t be terribly surprised to see a cloned mammoth before I die. . .), but his comments on the possibility of ‘destroying the planet’ were pretty insightful, I thought. From there, I read The Andromeda Strain, Sphere, and The Lost World before the impulse waned. Crichton is very adept at getting his readers to keep turning the page, but his books (at least, those that I’ve read) have in common that, after a certain point, the author seems to lose interest and just wrap up the story as quickly as he can. Especially for an author with Crichton’s story-telling gifts, his books have some of the worst, most clichéd endings I’ve ever read.
Going back to the beginning, when I was a kid, I read pretty much everything by Dr. Seuss that I could get my hands on. And what I didn’t read as a kid, I read to my own kids. My favorites are what I call his ‘imaginative’ books, especially McElligott’s Pool, On Beyond Zebra (‘because most people stop at the Z; but not me’) and If I Ran the Zoo (which has gotten credit for coining the word ‘nerd’, and thus is pivotal for my own life). One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish (which is like an ‘early reader’ version of McElligott) and Oh, the Thinks You Can Think! are also among my kids’ favorites. And the books starring Horton the Elephant hold a special place in my heart – Horton Hears a Who! (‘a person’s a person, no matter how small’) and Horton Hatches the Egg (‘I meant what I said, and I said what I meant – an elephant’s faithful, one hundred percent!’). And pretty much anything else he wrote. . .
Lewis and Chesterton and Kreeft, whose books I mentioned in the previous post, would also fall into this category of ‘Authors of Whom I’ve Read Everything I Could Get My Hands On’. But, since I already mentioned them, I won’t repeat myself here. . .
-------------------------
Returning to the book list, a few books on science and mathematics (just to give a bit of air to my Inner Nerd) –
Faith of a Physicist, by John Polkinghorne. Polkinghorne is a world-class particle physicist, and also an ordained Anglican priest. This is one of the best books I’ve come across, as far as presenting the deep harmony between the Christian and ‘scientific’ worldviews. Polkinghorne’s Belief In God In an Age of Science is also excellent. I’ll also mention a couple other books – The Road of Science and the Ways to God, by Stanley Jaki, develops the idea that the intelligibility of the universe points to its Creator. And Genesis and the Big Bang, by Gerald Schroeder, is especially interesting; the author is a world-class physicist, and an Orthodox Jew, and his Jewish presentation of ‘natural theology’ is wonderfully fascinating.
Fermat’s Last Theorem, by Amir Aczel. A stimulating account (OK, maybe just ‘stimulating’ to a certain type of mind. . .) of Andrew Wiles’ solution of one of the great, long-standing ‘unsolved problems’ of mathematics, which, by the time it finishes, provides a pretty comprehensive tour of mathematical history.
Beyond the Third Dimension, by Thomas Banchoff. I first engaged the concept of ‘four-dimensional space’ (or space-time) when I was in high school, and found it to be very ‘mind-expanding’ (sort of like LSD, without the flashbacks). I have carried that fascination with me through most of my life. Banchoff’s book is a solid, comprehensive account of four-dimensional (and higher-dimensional) space, and what it might mean, and how to think in (or through) it. . .
-------------------------
A few history books -
History of the English-Speaking Peoples, by Winston Churchill. This four-volume set fed my Inner Anglophile, and helped me understand my cultural heritage from even before Jamestown and Plymouth. It also helped me to better understand my 'cultural kinship' with folks like Aussies and Canadians (did you know that there were 17 British colonies in North America? But only 13 of them joined the 'rebellion'; the four that didn't formed the basis for what would become Canada), as well as to have a 'wider perspective' on history than is typically afforded students in American high schools (eg, the fact that England had a little thing going on with a fellow named Napoleon, might've had something to do with why the fledgling USA could successfully prosecute the War of 1812 against the 'superpower' British. . .)
The Discoverers, by Daniel Boorstin. A fascinating account of innovation and creativity, which wanders into a multitude of really interesting discussions, on mankind's growing understanding of time, space, the world, the universe, etc, etc. The history itself is simply fascinating, but Boorstin also develops a thesis of 'Illusions of Knowledge' - that when we think we know all there is to know about something, it becomes an obstacle to innovation and creativity. (As a footnote here, I’ll include To Engineer Is Human, in which author Henry Petroski gives a fascinating account of the role of failure in successful engineering design, including how the Tacoma Narrows Bridge disaster led to the design of my beloved Mackinac Bridge).
The Conquerors, by Allan Eckert. Eckert has written a six-volume set of 'narrative histories', which read like novels, but are in fact solidly documented histories, generally focused on the 'European conquest' of the United States (and not at all in a 'Euro-centric' manner; his respect and sympathy for the Indians are obvious, and he does not hesitate to present the dark side of the history we learned in school). The Conquerors (third in the series) covers the events that have come to be called Pontiac's Uprising, and so large chunks of the story take place in Michigan - most particularly Detroit and Michilimackinac, places I've been to, and so I can more-or-less easily imagine the settings for the stories Eckert tells. Any of the other volumes of the set are also excellent. . .
The Rise of Christianity, by Rodney Stark. Stark's 'sociological history' of early Christianity is a fascinating account of how a small sect of a few dozen people in Palestine grew to the point of comprising a majority of the Roman Empire within barely three centuries. Stark's research methods are quite unique, and he ends up telling a fascinating story on a much more 'mundane' level than typical 'Names-and-Dates' histories. I'll try not to spoil it for you, but basically, Christians did two things significantly better than their pagan Roman neighbors - they took care of the sick (which, in a day of periodic pandemic plagues, was no small thing), and they welcomed children into their families (often taking in children who had been abandoned by their neighbors). Which seems like it might have pertinence to the present day and age. . .
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And finally, a few of my favorite books of fiction –
Love In the Ruins, by Walker Percy; with this book, Percy earned a place on my short list of favorite authors. For having been written in 1971, this is a remarkably ‘current’ book; sort of the Culture War a generation in advance. Percy writes with wickedly wry humor, and he makes some sharp commentary on a wide range of topics, including sex, race, wealth, marriage, Christianity, etc, etc (which just happen to include several of my own favorite topics). . .
The Brothers Karamazov, by Fyodor Dostoevsky; maybe the greatest of all ‘Russian novels’, but even more probably the greatest of all ‘Christian novels’ (if there can be said to be such a thing). Dostoevsky presents deep insights into the ‘Problem of Pain’, and the ‘Mystery of Evil’, and the ways in which we’re all sort-of ‘walking blind’ through our lives in this world. . .
A Canticle for Leibowitz, by Walter Miller; James Michener actually put me onto this book in probably my least-favorite of all his books I’ve read (Space, if anyone’s wondering). On the face of it, it’s a fairly typical sci-fi book about the rebuilding of society in the aftermath of a nuclear holocaust, but it’s full of solid thoughts on human nature and some really sharp bits of tongue-in-cheek humor.
Huckleberry Finn, by Mark Twain; I’ve long considered this to be the absolute greatest of all American novels, by the greatest American writer. I’ve had a few arguments with folks at my kids’ school, who want to ban it over its use of the ‘N-word’. Try as I might to convince them that that radically misses the point, some folks are just hard to convince. . .
The Lord of the Rings, by JRR Tolkien; this almost feels like what I said in the previous post about the Bible – it’s almost too ‘obvious’ a choice. But from the first time I read it, I’ve been blown away by Tolkien’s invention of entire languages and histories. And Frodo has always been the least bit ‘emblematic’ for my own life – much as I might personally despise ‘adventures’, they keep coming to me, whether I want them or not. . .
Brave New World, by Aldous Huxley; often paired with Orwell's 1984 under the heading of ‘Future Dystopias’, I’ve thought that BNW is a sharper statement directed at the modern West, and where a society motivated purely by pleasure, enabled by technology, leads. And what real Humanity looks like, in contrast. . .
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And one more book - Another Sort of Learning, by JV Schall, a delightfully odd book (I mean, in the preface, he seamlessly connects Eric Voegelin, EF Schumacher, and Mad magazine), for people like me who got all the way through college without really getting 'educated'. It contains 21 essays, on an eclectic range of topics, and 37 associated book lists. Probably the book that got me started on the whole 'book lists' idea in the first place. . .
So there you have it. Books that have formed my mind, books that I liked, books that I recommend to my friends, whatever. Way more than fifteen, by the time it’s all said and done, but it is what it is (and, in the immortal words of Popeye, I yam what I yam. . .). And the thing is, a month from now, I'll probably think of a dozen other books that I should've included. Oh, well; for here and now, anyway, this is what you get. . .
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
One For the Books
A while back (quite a while, by now), my friend Lime posted (in two installments) a list of 15 books (which turned out to be 16, but I'm not fussy) that had a dramatic impact on her life (she got the idea from Suldog, so credit where it’s due. . .) It was such a cool idea, that I decided to do a book list of my own. Besides which, I've been thinking for a while of posting a list of my favorite books, so Lime and Suldog mostly just nudged me to do what I'd already been thinking of doing. However, I’m neither disciplined nor ruthless enough to pare my list down to 15 books. And the books I’m giving you are something of a random mix of ‘Books That Have Had a Dramatic Impact on My Life’, ‘Books That I Thought Were Really Good', ‘Books That I’d Like to Have With Me On a Desert Island’, ‘Books That I’d Recommend to a Friend’, and probably a few other sub-categories, besides. It will probably be quite a mishmash, so please bear with me. And when I’m done, you can tell me if it was worth it. . .
I suppose I should start with the Bible, even though there’s a part of me that resists that. I mean, it’s a bit like praising motherhood – it can seem kinda trite, and ‘yeah, well, of course’. But if we’re talking about books that have radically shaped my thinking, it all starts here. And the Bible has shaped the thinking of most of the books which have also shaped my thinking. . .
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That said, I’ll start with three books that I lump under the heading of ‘Christian Classics’ that have significantly shaped my thinking and my life, and which I enthusiastically recommend to any of my friends –
Confessions, by St. Augustine. "You have made us for Yourself, O Lord; and our hearts are restless until they rest in You." Augustine’s autobiographical account of his conversion to Christianity. It is fascinating for the manner in which Augustine gives his readers an open look into his soul. And his is a great soul, and a titanic intellect. Some of his thoughts on science and religion, for example, are many centuries ahead of their time, and startlingly appropriate in the present day.
The Imitation of Christ, by Thomas a Kempis. After the Bible, the most-read Christian book of all time, and justly so. It reads like a medieval Christian Book of Proverbs, and is full of profound wisdom. One of my favorites: “If you had a good conscience, you would not fear death so much, and it would be better for you to abandon sin than to fear death." And so on it goes. . .
Pensees, by Blaise Pascal. I picked this up because I was intrigued by Pascal’s reputation as a genius of physics/mathematics. But I wasn’t very far into it before I realized that it was a Christian spiritual classic in its own right. For a 17th-century writer, Pascal understands the modern soul really well: “The sole cause of man's unhappiness is that he does not know how to stay quietly in his room." Or, “Reason's last step is the recognition that there are an infinite number of things which are beyond it.” Wonderful stuff. The Pensees can be a bit of a disjointed read, since Pascal died (at age 39) before he could beat it into a coherent whole, but what he left us is no less rewarding of the reader who picks it up. . .
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Next, a few of what I’ll call ‘Modern Spiritual Classics’ –
The Everlasting Man, by GK Chesterton. My college roommate first gave me this book, and by the time I finished it, I wondered why I had never heard of Chesterton before then. Chesterton has an amazing gift for turning the world around on itself, and seeing the absurdities of the world where most people (myself most definitely included) miss them. His Orthodoxy is also excellent.
Mere Christianity, by CS Lewis. One of the first of Lewis’ books that I read, back in college. I don’t really think it’s his best book, but it’s a gateway to most everything else he wrote. For sheer inspiration, and formation of my thought, I think the title essay in The Weight of Glory is one of the most amazing things I’ve ever read – “Aside from the Blessed Sacrament itself, your neighbor is the holiest thing that will ever be presented to your senses.” Miracles and The Problem of Pain are also terrific books. As are his books of fiction – I have especially loved Lewis’ Space Trilogy (I might be unusual in that Out of the Silent Planet – the first book of the trilogy – is my favorite), and we have read the Chronicles of Narnia to our kids many times over.
Love Is Stronger Than Death, by Peter Kreeft. My favorite book by my favorite living author. Kreeft has an amazing ability to cut through the confusion and help his readers to see things truly. The analogy between birth and death that Kreeft presents in this book is simply incredible. Other books by Kreeft worth looking into are Making Choices (sort of a ‘Moral Philosopy 101’ book) and Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Heaven, which (its cheesy-awful title notwithstanding) contains some wonderful speculative theology. He’s also written good ‘introductory’ books on Pascal and Thomas Aquinas that are worth the price, and his Socratic dialogues were one of my early introductions to the joys of philosophy. . .
I’ll also mention What We Can’t Not Know, by J. Budziszewski, which is sort of an introductory course in Natural Law. I know that not all, even of my Christian blog-friends, appreciate Natural Law philosophy, but after reading Chesterton, Lewis and Kreeft, I realized that Natural Law corresponded pretty closely to my own developing thoughts on Life and Morality and The Universe. And Budziszewski (boo-ji-SHEF-ski) has written the best popular-level books on Natural Law that I’ve come across (I’ve just recently finished The Line Through the Heart; Written On the Heart is also excellent).
And I should also mention the late Pope John Paul II’s Theology of the Body, published as Man and Woman He Created Them. The late pope’s thoughts on human sexuality just revolutionized my thinking when I first encountered them. John Paul’s reasoning is very dense, and can be a pretty tough slog (but ultimately rewarding of the effort, if you can work through it); some might prefer Sam Torode’s Theology of the Body in Simple Language, which simplifies the pope’s language, without dumbing it down.
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A couple of newer books of 'social commentary', which probably don't quite count as 'classics' just yet, but which I've deeply enjoyed -
Real Choices, by Frederica Mathewes-Green. The best, most insightful book I've ever encountered on the issue of abortion. Frederica understands both sides of the question; in particular, she understands the desperation of women who "want an abortion the way an animal caught in a trap wants to gnaw off its own leg", and yet she never shies away from the awful truth of the question. If "everyone knows it's a baby", the question remains - why do women still seek abortions? Or, more to the point, why do so many of them come to believe that killing their baby is their only viable option? And just to ask that question leads in some very insightful directions. This book is full of both compassion and truth, and gives cause for squirming to partisans of both sides. One last quote - "Any society that pits mothers against their children in a fight to the death, is going insane."
Mudhouse Sabbath, by Lauren Winner. The author is a recent (at least, at the time of writing) convert to Christianity, after having been an Orthodox Jew, and she writes very insightfully about the 'touch points' she's found between Judaism and Christianity, and how her Christian life is enriched by her Jewish past. A fascinating book (and the source of inspiration for Molly's-and-my Sunday Morning Tradition). Lauren Winner might be better known for her book Real Sex, an account of her life in the 'typical American' sexual lifestyle, and how she found it wanting (as a footnote along the same lines, I'll also mention Dawn Eden's The Thrill of the Chaste)
This post is already in danger of being unreadably long, so I’ll break it off here, and continue in another post. . .
I suppose I should start with the Bible, even though there’s a part of me that resists that. I mean, it’s a bit like praising motherhood – it can seem kinda trite, and ‘yeah, well, of course’. But if we’re talking about books that have radically shaped my thinking, it all starts here. And the Bible has shaped the thinking of most of the books which have also shaped my thinking. . .
-------------------------
That said, I’ll start with three books that I lump under the heading of ‘Christian Classics’ that have significantly shaped my thinking and my life, and which I enthusiastically recommend to any of my friends –
Confessions, by St. Augustine. "You have made us for Yourself, O Lord; and our hearts are restless until they rest in You." Augustine’s autobiographical account of his conversion to Christianity. It is fascinating for the manner in which Augustine gives his readers an open look into his soul. And his is a great soul, and a titanic intellect. Some of his thoughts on science and religion, for example, are many centuries ahead of their time, and startlingly appropriate in the present day.
The Imitation of Christ, by Thomas a Kempis. After the Bible, the most-read Christian book of all time, and justly so. It reads like a medieval Christian Book of Proverbs, and is full of profound wisdom. One of my favorites: “If you had a good conscience, you would not fear death so much, and it would be better for you to abandon sin than to fear death." And so on it goes. . .
Pensees, by Blaise Pascal. I picked this up because I was intrigued by Pascal’s reputation as a genius of physics/mathematics. But I wasn’t very far into it before I realized that it was a Christian spiritual classic in its own right. For a 17th-century writer, Pascal understands the modern soul really well: “The sole cause of man's unhappiness is that he does not know how to stay quietly in his room." Or, “Reason's last step is the recognition that there are an infinite number of things which are beyond it.” Wonderful stuff. The Pensees can be a bit of a disjointed read, since Pascal died (at age 39) before he could beat it into a coherent whole, but what he left us is no less rewarding of the reader who picks it up. . .
-------------------------
Next, a few of what I’ll call ‘Modern Spiritual Classics’ –
The Everlasting Man, by GK Chesterton. My college roommate first gave me this book, and by the time I finished it, I wondered why I had never heard of Chesterton before then. Chesterton has an amazing gift for turning the world around on itself, and seeing the absurdities of the world where most people (myself most definitely included) miss them. His Orthodoxy is also excellent.
Mere Christianity, by CS Lewis. One of the first of Lewis’ books that I read, back in college. I don’t really think it’s his best book, but it’s a gateway to most everything else he wrote. For sheer inspiration, and formation of my thought, I think the title essay in The Weight of Glory is one of the most amazing things I’ve ever read – “Aside from the Blessed Sacrament itself, your neighbor is the holiest thing that will ever be presented to your senses.” Miracles and The Problem of Pain are also terrific books. As are his books of fiction – I have especially loved Lewis’ Space Trilogy (I might be unusual in that Out of the Silent Planet – the first book of the trilogy – is my favorite), and we have read the Chronicles of Narnia to our kids many times over.
Love Is Stronger Than Death, by Peter Kreeft. My favorite book by my favorite living author. Kreeft has an amazing ability to cut through the confusion and help his readers to see things truly. The analogy between birth and death that Kreeft presents in this book is simply incredible. Other books by Kreeft worth looking into are Making Choices (sort of a ‘Moral Philosopy 101’ book) and Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Heaven, which (its cheesy-awful title notwithstanding) contains some wonderful speculative theology. He’s also written good ‘introductory’ books on Pascal and Thomas Aquinas that are worth the price, and his Socratic dialogues were one of my early introductions to the joys of philosophy. . .
I’ll also mention What We Can’t Not Know, by J. Budziszewski, which is sort of an introductory course in Natural Law. I know that not all, even of my Christian blog-friends, appreciate Natural Law philosophy, but after reading Chesterton, Lewis and Kreeft, I realized that Natural Law corresponded pretty closely to my own developing thoughts on Life and Morality and The Universe. And Budziszewski (boo-ji-SHEF-ski) has written the best popular-level books on Natural Law that I’ve come across (I’ve just recently finished The Line Through the Heart; Written On the Heart is also excellent).
And I should also mention the late Pope John Paul II’s Theology of the Body, published as Man and Woman He Created Them. The late pope’s thoughts on human sexuality just revolutionized my thinking when I first encountered them. John Paul’s reasoning is very dense, and can be a pretty tough slog (but ultimately rewarding of the effort, if you can work through it); some might prefer Sam Torode’s Theology of the Body in Simple Language, which simplifies the pope’s language, without dumbing it down.
-------------------------
A couple of newer books of 'social commentary', which probably don't quite count as 'classics' just yet, but which I've deeply enjoyed -
Real Choices, by Frederica Mathewes-Green. The best, most insightful book I've ever encountered on the issue of abortion. Frederica understands both sides of the question; in particular, she understands the desperation of women who "want an abortion the way an animal caught in a trap wants to gnaw off its own leg", and yet she never shies away from the awful truth of the question. If "everyone knows it's a baby", the question remains - why do women still seek abortions? Or, more to the point, why do so many of them come to believe that killing their baby is their only viable option? And just to ask that question leads in some very insightful directions. This book is full of both compassion and truth, and gives cause for squirming to partisans of both sides. One last quote - "Any society that pits mothers against their children in a fight to the death, is going insane."
Mudhouse Sabbath, by Lauren Winner. The author is a recent (at least, at the time of writing) convert to Christianity, after having been an Orthodox Jew, and she writes very insightfully about the 'touch points' she's found between Judaism and Christianity, and how her Christian life is enriched by her Jewish past. A fascinating book (and the source of inspiration for Molly's-and-my Sunday Morning Tradition). Lauren Winner might be better known for her book Real Sex, an account of her life in the 'typical American' sexual lifestyle, and how she found it wanting (as a footnote along the same lines, I'll also mention Dawn Eden's The Thrill of the Chaste)
This post is already in danger of being unreadably long, so I’ll break it off here, and continue in another post. . .
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