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Michael

Michael

(Image: Sigurð slays the worm Fafnir; from a Norwegian church door.)

It can be said without much exaggeration that books have ruled my entire life. Though I mostly read fiction, my reading list in nonfiction reflects my interests: namely folklore and traditional cultures (especially Japanese, Scandinavia, Western Europe, Africa, and... more »
  • Charleston, SC, USA
  • member since July 19 2007

Reviews

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Displaying 1-10 of 223 reviews
  • The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter

    The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter

    by Yasunari Kawabata
    • Rated 4 stars

    This is a translation of Taketori monogatari, a story of unknown authorship, written sometime in the Heian Period of Japanese history. It is one of the most well known of Japanese folktales and legends, and was called by Lady Murasaki "the ancestor of all romances." Donald Keene's new translation renders the original story (or the original written form of the story, at any rate) into the English language, but does so somewhat unimaginatively. I don't know if this is a problem with the original language, or with Keene's rendering specifically; but the tale falls a little flat in this reading, more like a court official reporting on a series of routine episodes than a distraught but enraptured bamboo cutter relating the tragic and astonishing marvels that really do occur in this tale. Simply put, the magic and the beauty of the sequence of events is where the pleasure in reading this translation lies, and not in the language at all. It is worth reading for enthusiasts of Japanese culture, traditions and folklore, but for those who are unfamiliar with this popular tale should perhaps seek a different version; there are many to be found. But it is sad that the best tellings are retellings, mostly by Western voices(Yei Theodora Ozaki springs to mind, as does F. Hadland Davis), rather than translations of Japanese voices.

    Michael wrote this review 10 days ago. ( reply | permalink )
  • The Genesis Enigma
    1 of 1 members found this review helpful.
    • Rated 1 stars

    The first and foremost thing to establish about Andrew Parker’s new book on the Genesis creation story is what it is not. It is not a repudiation of evolution theory. And perhaps just as importantly, it is not any sort of proof of the existence of God. As I’ve written before in other places, I do not think that will or can ever be proved, and I think that is purposefully so. Parker is not setting about trying to prove or repudiate anything so drastic. Rather, he asks us to reconsider, in a scientific light, what was once seen as a crude and rather fictional tale. Parker’s basic thesis: “When [Genesis 1] is taken literally, it is left in the wake of an advancing science. But when it is read figuratively…it becomes a great unknown in the way it keeps pace with modern science.”

    When I first saw the title of the book The Genesis Enigma at the bookstore, I was excited. A book about how science and the Genesis account agree? I had already recently written a short article on how the Genesis creation account is more scientifically accurate than any other mythic creation account, as it rejects the central tenet of pagan religions: the deification of nature. Yet as I began to read, I became more and more skeptical. Andrew Parker is a scientist, an evolutionist, even, so a book favorable toward religion from such a man is an interesting thing. But it seemed at first that he was stretching things too much in order to fit his idea: sure, there are some parallels between Genesis and the history of the universe -- but other things are out of order, and some are missing entirely. This fact is something I have been aware of for a long time, and is why I -- and some other Christian thinkers, such as C.S. Lewis -- began to consider the Genesis creation as mythic (in the old sense, not in the newer one). As I continued to read, however, these reservations began to be eroded by the facts of the book. Firstly, that Parker was a scientist, with an established career no less, before he became interested in religious ideas, which removed the idea of bias (you can't discount science if you know the science intimately first, and only subsequently compare it to religion).

    Secondly, one of Parker's ideas as a scientist began to change the way I think. Sure, there are discrepancies in the Genesis account, and its scientific accuracy is thus questionable, at least in terms of what we presently know. However, Parker urges the reader to start out with a frame of mind stripped of the last 2,500+ years of scientific progress, equipped only by what common sense and guesswork can provide. In other words, with the frame of mind that the Genesis writer would have had. “Michelangelo painted the creation story,” Parker writes, “as one would expect someone without scientific knowledge to represent it -- using the human form. That way everyone could identify with it. But the writer of Genesis opted instead for a cryptic, more abstract description.” God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. This is the historical root of the idea of the Big Bang Theory, first proposed by Catholic priest Georges Lemaître. From here, the Genesis writer continues on, making a few blunders; but Parker's argument holds that it is not the presence of the mistakes we should note, but the amazing accuracy that the account has despite them. One would expect an occasional mythic creation account to get one or two points right, sheerly by accident. But, the book argues, it is inconceivable, when we consider the absence of our two plus millennia of scientific knowledge, that an Israelite desert wanderer could just happen to get so much correct, even if his language is vague and inexact.

    This is the basic gist of Andrew Parker's creation chronology:

    “Let there be light,” corresponds with the Big Bang itself. As science shows, energy (“light” to the ancient’s terminology) was the first thing to exist in the universe, and from this energy was formed matter. At first glance, the preceding mention of Heaven and Earth's creation in the first verse seems to skew this chronology, but this problem disappears with closer thought. For one thing, a later verse depicts the creation of the Heavens (ancient terminology for the skies and outer space). Add to this the description of Earth as “without form” (without shape) and “void” (without matter), and it becomes clear that Earth, while present in God’s mind, has not yet been created. The same verse in which we see creation of light mentions also day and night, implying the creation of the sun. Again, this seems to be skewed by the fact that the sun and moon seem to be created later on in verses 14-19, but this is countered by the fact that the Genesis writer -- whatever else he was ignorant of -- surely understood, by simple observation, that the presence of the sun means day, while its absence means night. No, Parker has an alternate and much more scientifically interesting explanation for the second mention of “Let there be lights.”

    Following the creation of light and the sun, the Genesis writer describes a separation between waters to form the sky. The lower waters are obviously seas, and the upper -- above the sky -- can be read as clouds. As Parker explains, this reflects the scientific order, as the formation of water from hydrogen and oxygen, and the evaporation and precipitation caused by the high heat and subsequent cooling of the earth’s surface, occurred early in history, well before the emergence of life. It is also notable that Genesis has dry land appear before the emergence of life, despite the fact that sea life is the first to be created. This, too, reflects a scientific history of the earth. (The one curious thing about Genesis here is that the creation of the earth itself seems to have been left out. It obviously occurred sometime between the light and the sky, but when is never said.)

    Here, Parker says, is where the odds for accurate guesswork begin to become really low; for the next stages in the Genesis account were not known to be accurate until after Darwin. Genesis next describes the creation of plant life, which Parker equates with cyanobacteria: among the first life to evolve from a single-celled organism, these photosynthetic cells are found integrated into plant cells and are known as chloroplasts. From here, the second “let there be light” is a bit trickier. Again, day and night, and hence the sun’s presence, has already been mentioned. Parker’s idea is that these words hint toward the evolution of vision, the sense which let the light into life’s perception, and allowed living creatures to become aware for the first time of day and night and the stars. The idea of signs is also mentioned here, a concept which is both useless and irrelevant unless vision is present. This interpretation would, admittedly, be very loose and shaky were it not for the fact that it interlocks perfectly, in a scientifically historical way, with the rest of the Genesis account.

    Immediately after these references to light, day and night, and signs, Genesis says “Let the waters bring forth abundantly the moving creatures…” This corresponds to the Cambrian explosion, which was brought on, recent science tells us, by the evolution of the eye. The first life did live in the sea, and most of it evolved there. Interestingly, Parker points out, Genesis does not say that God forms or presents the animals, but that He commands the waters to bring them forth, which Parker says “is to summon a process that will lead to the diversity of animals.” A similar expression in Genesis is “Let [life] increase on the earth.” (NIV translation.) All this hints toward evolution.

    The main problem with this argument is that birds are created alongside marine life, instead of after land life; yet Genesis afterwards is correct again, in having land-dwelling beasts, and then humanity, appearing last of all. In summary, the Genesis author recorded scientific facts he could not possibly have known from observation, and that scientists did not know until relatively modern times: that the universe was created in a single moment, that energy was the first material thing that existed, that the sun (day and night) preceded formation of the earth, that the formation of seas preceded the rise of life, that the first life was plantlike, that the first animal life originated in the seas, that the rise of vision precipitated the explosion of variety in life, and that sea life preceded life on land. The presence of birds in the wrong place does throw some doubt upon this theory, but in light of all the precise placement of so many other things, which science itself has only recently discovered, this single error is forgivable.

    So far, so good. However, several of the author’s comments and proclivities raise questions. Firstly, who is the book’s intended audience? Despite the fact that Barnes & Noble categorizes the book in its Christianity section, there is nothing specifically Christian about it. Perhaps religious people in general? Yet at many points Parker belittles the religious mindset, seeing that side of the science vs. religion debate as clearly wrongheaded, making such comments as, “Collectively, Walcott’s Burgess fossils…would appear as a nail in God’s coffin,” and seeming content to pigeonhole any believers who have at all thought about the subject of natural history as young earth creationists. This is an extremely simplistic viewpoint.

    Parker even bizarrely suggests that a literal interpretation of Genesis is behind environmental devastation. He makes this statement without at all showing where the connection lies -- right after emphasizing the importance of sound observations. Of course, he ignores the fact that the rise of applied science coincides perfectly with the increase in natural exploitation -- not a religious observation, but an environmental one. Again, Parker relies on a skewed and stereotypical view of religion when he invokes the “God of the gaps” idea, as if humanity’s religious pursuits amount to nothing more than assigning God or a god to everything we couldn’t understand. In a short review of early philosophical poles, Parker treats the natural philosophy of Plato and Epicurus as their central and most important concerns. He misrepresents C.S. Lewis, concluding that we cannot ever know what God is; but ignores Lewis’ vehement insistence that we can know (a much more important question) who God is. Perhaps the biggest blunder is his attempt to equate God with energy. As we know energy is a material thing, this is patently ridiculous; or if not, then it at least flies in the face of something most religions have ever said: that this, this world, this material arena we call the universe, is not all there is.

    A problem, too, is the book’s lack of focus. It is certainly not a book on religion; there is less religion in it than science, and there is even less science in it than scientific history. Large parts are devoted to profiles of early scientists, usually of the nineteenth century. Are these intended to be for human interest? As I’ve said elsewhere, if I needed such human interest pieces to keep my attention, then I would never have picked up the book in the first place. This is clearly a case of an idea being better than its execution. The core thesis of Parker’s book is intriguing, if a little shoddily executed, but given all the extraneous and, honestly, boring material he heaps on, Enigma could have easily been half its current size, if not less.

    In the end, though it has some pretty original and insightful ideas, The Genesis Enigma suffers greatly from a lack of focus, a superfluity of tangents, half-baked thoughts on religion, and a failure to draw appropriate and relevant conclusions. Andrew Parker states a few times in its pages that he hopes the book will help bridge the gap between the two sides in the debate between science and religion: an admirable goal, but one that cannot be achieved by turning religion into science, or forcing religion to operate by science’s rules. That is not to say that religion is, or should be, free of rational thought or inquiry, but rather to say that that inquiry is by its nature of and about a separate realm than concerns the realm of science. This Andrew Parker seems to fail to realize. Again, there are some really good and insightful ideas in Enigma’s pages; but given the slough one has to wander through to get to them, it may be wiser to seek them in other sources.

    Michael wrote this review Saturday, October 24 2009. ( reply | permalink )
  • End the Fed
    • Rated 3 stars

    An extremely informative book on the history of the Federal Reserve, the problems its practices cause in the economy, the inherent flaws in its conception and basic philosophy, and the moral, economic, constitutional, and libertarian arguments against it. While not as clear and well-organized as The Revolution, End the Fed is certainly more detailed and specific, and has the same tone of irritated, principled honesty that Ron Paul is known for. Everyone should read this book.

    Michael wrote this review Wednesday, October 14 2009. ( reply | permalink )
  • We Die Alone: A WWII Epic of Escape and Endurance
    • Rated 4 stars

    Though Howarth's writing voice comes off a bit stilted at times, his narrative of the survival attempts of Jan Baalsrud after his sabotage mission to Nazi occupied Norway failed, leaving him the only survivor, is thrilling and compelling enough to counter this. Though Howarth probably takes more time than is needed in fleshing out the incidents -- all of which are historical and have been clarified by the actual persons involved -- one easily sympathizes with Jan, a Norwegian exiled from his home, devastated that his attempt to help his people resist has failed, and trying relentlessly to get to Sweden so he can escape from the Germans. Despite his almost incredible luck at many points, and the help of many brace and sacrificing Norwegian villagers, Jan faces horrible setbacks, and ends up losing all but one of his toes to frostbite. He endures weeks in the elements, at one point is buried alive, and becomes so weak that he cannot even kill himself with his pistol when he judges his situation to be hopeless. Eventually he is rescued by the S´mi, a very fascinating group of animistic natives of Scandinavia (though not Nordic by blood themselves) who are migrant in their lifestyle, narrowly factual in their thinking, and reliant on the reindeer for their livelihood. I don't know if I'd recommend this book to a casual reader, but for one who is interested either in World War II or in Norwegian history should enjoy this well enough.

    Michael wrote this review Saturday, October 10 2009. ( reply | permalink )
  • The Moon Is Down
    • Rated 4 stars

    Despite the usual label for this book as "propaganda", I actually think The Moon is Down portrays a realistic and compelling portrait of an occupation, both of the occupied and of the invaders. Both are sympathetic to the reader (insofar as the Nazis, while unreflective and indoctrinated into a horrible way of thinking, are still human and we feel sorry for them). And the final climax, no doubt intended to encourage the people of countries who were actually occupied, presented an honorable and respectable and intellectual view of sacrifice. Despite the lack of specifics, this is clearly intended to be Norway under the Nazis, and the character of Corelli (a curiously un-Norwegian name) is a nod to Quisling. This book is also usually said to not be one of Steinbeck's better works, but of what little I've read, it's my favorite. It certainly is far superior to Of Mice and Men. While it bears the same weak writing style (an establishment of setting for each chapter, and from then on nothing but dialogue), it is certainly not nearly so bad as Mice, and given the much more interesting characters and more harrowing situations, one doesn't notice this as much.

    Michael wrote this review Saturday, October 10 2009. ( reply | permalink )
  • The Old Man and the Sea
    • Rated 4 stars

    I actually enjoyed this book a lot more than I expected to, coming in. This was my first venture into Hemingway, and I was delightfully surprised at the immediacy, the living quality to his prose, undivided by chapters or any other sort of editorial method. The novel, while short, is immersive within the life of a poor, starving old Havana fisherman and his struggle against the the world, the ocean, and a particular fish. The little ways in which this man talks to himself, musing absently on the nature of life, of luck, of human struggle and the fight to stay alive, are thoughtful and wise without seeming to be. Well worth reading; perhaps one of these days I'll get into Hemingway again.

    Michael wrote this review Tuesday, October 6 2009. ( reply | permalink )
  • Child to the Waters
    • Rated 3 stars

    More a collection of vignettes, of literary portraits and sketches than stories proper (though there are a few of these, good ones), Child to the Waters carries within it the character of tradition -- not tradition remembered, but tradition lived, stark and yet with corners worn rounded by continuous and strenuous, though sentimental, use. There is something in Kibler's voice that reminds me strongly at times of Conrad Richter's Awakening Land trilogy, though with, of course, a strong taste of the South: slower, sweeter, but with the same raw deliberateness that shines through in any good portrayal of tradition lived. One of my favorite stories, "Singin' Billy, the Song Catcher", is about William Walker, an actual southern songwriter; but rather than telling us many specifics about Walker's life, Kibler shows us how there is music and rhythm -- not just metaphorical, but real -- in every part of the traditional life, even the most mundane. "Sídhe and Ingus" tells the story of a forbidden romance, whose family enmity is overcome by a sudden tragedy averted. "Fair Grace by the Eddying Pools" shows us a village plagued by famine and scarcity, until the supple and yielding character of a young weaving woman's devoted work suddenly provides a good supper. There are many others worth mentioning, too. Kibler is a very soft-spoken and gentle man, who I have spoken with for some short time. His writing is not the best I've ever read, but it has something special in it, something that is more than the sum of its words, and something that, in its understated way, stays with you a while.

    Michael wrote this review Tuesday, September 29 2009. ( reply | permalink )
  • The Ballad of the White Horse
    1 of 1 members found this review helpful.

    The Ballad of the White Horse

    by G.K. Chesterton
    • Rated 5 stars

    There is about this epic poem a sense at once of darkening, deepening gloom, and brightness maintained by hard but hearty labor. I do not think this is an accident: for the main theme of Chesterton's retelling of the legend of the English King Alfred's battled against the Danish Guthrum at Ethandune is life as a battle, as a neverending struggle against encroaching evil, without and within. Hence the name The White Horse: the horse, a huge image cut from a chalky hill in Wiltshire, is a symbol of the spiritual state of the land; when it is invaded and occupied by the Danes it grows weedy and clouded, but when goodness prevails the work of men strips it and makes it white and pristine again. Chesterton's poetry is alive and vigorous, merry and defiant, sober and contemplative, humble and vigilant. In short, it has all the flavor of Christianity. It tells the tale of an epic battle, but builds toward it, and recedes from it, with earthy care and attention to detail: the descriptions of Alfred's chieftains -- Colan the Gael, Eldred the Saxon, and Mark the Roman -- and of their homesteads, the incident at the house of the old woman whom the king contemplates and pities, the legendary origins of Elf the Dane's spear, the harping contest between the Danish chiefs and a disguised Alfred: all these things have the beauty, the texture, the resonance of myth, and the scale and rootedness of legend and folklore. This indeed is a poem I would read again and again.

    Michael wrote this review Thursday, September 17 2009. ( reply | permalink )
  • Surprised by Joy: The Shape of My Early Life
    1 of 1 members found this review helpful.
    • Rated 4 stars

    Lewis' autobiography is just as entertaining and enlightening as most of his other works, and has the added bonus of revealing his own history, which has contributed so much to his thought. Surprised by Joy plots his early childhood, his school years, his attraction to atheism and the intellectual consolidation of that position, his pupilage under William Kirkpatrick (here called "Kirk" or "The Great Knock"), his days at Oxford and his stint fighting in World War I, and his final, gradual, and extremely reluctant "almost purely philosophical" conversion, first to Absolute Idealism (the belief that we, and nature, are only fragmented appearances of the Absolute), then to Theism (the belief that some sort of God exists), and finally to Christianity. It is in these final few chapters that Lewis really shines his brightest -- or, as he would probably prefer to put it, that a light from beyond the world most clearly shines through him; though the earlier chapters are both entertaining and insightful as well. In one chapter alone ("Light and Shade"), Lewis attacks the moral obsession against homosexuality prevalent in his and our time, and debunks the economic theory of history and society. Also brilliant, to me, are his contrasts of the flavors of different mythologies: the "cold, piercing appeal', the 'stony and fiery sublimity' of Norse, the 'green, leafy, amorous, and elusive world' of Celtic, the 'Mediterranean and volcanic, the orgiastic...but not strongly erotic', the 'harder, more defiant, sun-bright beauty' of Greek.

    Perhaps the most interesting and captivating themes in the book is that of Joy, which is sharply different from either pleasure or happiness, and is a technical term for the elusive and transitory, almost romantic desire that we at times feel, an aching, burning desire for...we know not what, brought on by a sudden glimpse of a beautiful landscape, the sudden memory of our past, a suddenly heard piece of music. And Lewis' journey to find out what Joy really is, what it really longs for, and what it really points to, is in many ways the story of his life. As he wrote elsewhere, "The books or the music in which we thought the beauty was located will betray us if we trust to them; it was not in them, it only came through them, and what came through them was longing. These things -- the beauty, the memory of our own past -- are good images of what we really desire; but if they are mistaken for the thing itself they turn into dumb idols, breaking the hearts of their worshipers. For they are not the thing itself; they are only the scent of a flower we have not found, the echo of a tune we have not heard, news from a country we have never yet visited."

    Michael wrote this review Tuesday, September 15 2009. ( reply | permalink )
  • A Brief History of the Vikings: The Last Pagans or the First Modern Europeans? (Brief History Series)
    1 of 1 members found this review helpful.
    • Rated 3 stars

    A fairly good overview of the Viking period of Scandinavian history. The book mainly follows the exploits of the Viking kings, from Harald Fairhair through such later leaders as Hakon the Good, Olav Trygvasson and St. Olav ("the Stout"), Svein Forkbeard and his descendants, and finally Harald the Ruthless; although it does cover other elements of Viking culture, such as settlement in the Shetlands and Orkneys and Ireland, the founding of Russia, and the exploration of Iceland, Greenland and Vinland (the earliest European name for North America). The drawback of this book is the main drawback of most history books: it concentrates on wars, conflicts, explorations, etc., but gives very little attention to the human contexts of these things -- that is, the historical cultures against which these episodes played out. This is, to an extent, understandable here, as Vikings were specifically the criminal and pirate element of Scandinavian society, and so a history of Vikings proper would not do more than touch on these aspects. But it is still regrettable. Also, there is nowhere in the book a case for the subtitle which suggests that Vikings were the first modern Europeans.

    Michael wrote this review Sunday, September 13 2009. ( reply | permalink )
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