Lory

Reviews and more on my blog: Entering the Enchanted Castle

I read this because I wanted to know what was behind Rudolf Steiner's very negative comments about Woodrow Wilson. I learned so much! His story really is a great tragedy of moral overreaching and hidden weakness. We need to learn from this to have the honesty to admit and overcome our faults, rather than ignoring and covering them up until they become a disaster of epic proportions. Working on it myself – I can't even imagine trying to take on the challenges of political office.

As others have noted, the book is really mostly about Wilson's presidential years (his earlier life is much more briefly treated) and “The World He Made” gets a brief postscript in the epilogue. The peace conference was covered in great detail, and left me in awe and dismay. What mistakes were made there, that we are still not recovered from. Eye opening. And the cover-up of Wilson's final years in office, what a bizarre episode in American history. I had no idea this had even happened.

Reviews and more on my blog: Entering the Enchanted Castle

This was a brave, honest, and beautifully written memoir about a young woman's spiritual journey toward self-acceptance – represented by accepting an alternative sexuality not generally approved of in Christian circles. What shone through to me was how important it is to love the world and all the gifts it brings to us, and not to close ourselves off from possibilities of love, through fear of hurt or criticism or rejection.

Reviews and more on my blog: Entering the Enchanted Castle

A moving story of how a young journalist decided to overcome the habits of his life so far and delve into a difficult family history. In the process he found healing and transformation for himself as well as a new relationship with his estranged parents. The style is prosaic, with little in the way of sentimental flourish, but the bare bones of the story itself come out all the more strongly that way. To turn within ourselves and choose to go in a new direction, opening our hearts to the other who has hurt us while admitting where maybe we ourselves have been at fault, is such a simple and yet such a difficult process. This is an example I will long remember.

Reviews and more on my blog: Entering the Enchanted Castle

Sometimes all I want from a book is to spend time with some new people, living into their lives and their problems. Not extremely challenging people or dark and twisted problems, just people with enough quirkiness to raise them above the merely mundane, and lift me out of my everyday existence for awhile without making me wrap my head around an utterly different world.

This is such a book, a set of character studies loosely connected with the inhabitants of the house with the pink front door, a charming little place in Hampstead, London in the mid-20th century. Its mistress, Daisy, is prone to “overhelpful-itis,” taking care of an assortment of wastrels and hard-luck cases at the expense of her own family. We meet a number of these, along with some of Daisy's relatives, as their lives entwine and unravel in various interesting (but not overly tortuous) ways.

I ended up smiling at Gibbons's light but vivid way of delineating character, and her amusedly compassionate glance at all these flawed, yet relatable humans. For me it compared favorably to another book I read recently, A Man Called Ove, which aspired to be a similar collection of lovably quirky character studies but fell flat for me; the characterizations did not spring to life. Gibbons did it better, I think.

Reviews and more on my blog: Entering the Enchanted Castle

I really enjoyed this first of the Tessa Crichton mysteries, reissued by Dean Street Press, always to be depended on for coming up with some good rediscoveries. The mystery is negligible, but there's a lot of pleasure to be had from the breezy voice of the narrator. This made me smile on almost every page, especially her banter with friends and relations including an attractive police inspector who I gather will become her husband in the next book – seemingly unfazed by his lady love's obstruction of justice and concealing of information in the interest of her loved ones. I wonder how this will work out in future books, so I definitely look forward to more from Tessa and Co.

Reviews and more on my blog: Entering the Enchanted Castle

A revealing but not particularly “delightful” look into the world behind the curtain, centered around the star of My Fair Lady, Rex Harrison. Garland, who directed Harrison in the American revival of the musical in the mid-seventies, seems to see reminiscing about the production as a fine opportunity to collect his memories of the man he considered a friend as well as a great artist, and perhaps to demonstrate why he remained so attractive to many in spite of his irascibility. But much of Harrison's in-person charm is lost when we are confronted with his bald words upon the page, divorced from his finely modulated voice and manners. He comes across as insensitive, boorish, and even cruel. One of his ex-wives (he had five, plus a current model) commits suicide during the tour and he appears largely unmoved. His treatment of his own son – which took even Garland aback – is horrible. Off the stage, intermingled with Wildean quips he spews a constant stream of profanity; his nickname for My Fair Lady is “F*** the Music.”

This attitude also demonstrates his contempt for any artists involved with a production other than himself. Challenged by his own lack of singing skills, his “speech singing” became a brilliant and very suitable expression of the character of Henry Higgins, which largely contributed to his success in the role. But it IS an eminently musical show, and he had no respect for music or for singers. He ignored the long-suffering conductor's requests for Harrison to follow him, demanding that he lead and the orchestra follow. He sank the revival production because when his co-star playing Eliza became overwhelmed by the vocal demands of the score, he refused to allow an understudy to take over. When forced by the crisis to do so, played so coldly to her that she ended up prostrate in her dressing room after the preview performance attended by the New York critics. I suspect that he feared being upstaged by any talent that might have proved to be greater than his own, and used these antics to keep other actors in their place.

I'm sure such attitudes and practices are not uncommon among stage folk, and so Garland's record allows us to see a side of show business that is not at all glamorous. But it left me sad, and wondering why Harrison became such a dreadful person – a question not addressed in this particular book.

Reviews and more on my blog: Entering the Enchanted Castle

Enjoyed this especially since we visited Grindelwald last summer. Gibbons captured the atmosphere well, along with a slew of entertaining characters, few of them very likeable but all convincingly themselves. Sly glimpses at their future fates are inserted, with one major exception that I think is meant to leave us wondering.

Reviews and more on my blog: Entering the Enchanted Castle

I finished a book in German! A simple children's tale was perfect for me.

Reviews and more on my blog: Entering the Enchanted Castle

A classic work on Centering Prayer and an excellent introduction that covers the method in detail as well as many questions that may come up, background information, and an overview of the holistic Christian viewpoint out of which this practice grew. I am sure I will return to it many times for reference and inspiration.

Reviews and more on my blog: Entering the Enchanted Castle

More shenanigans with Uncle Fred, this time with a mild satire of the publishing industry.

Reviews and more on my blog: Entering the Enchanted Castle

Later Wodehouse starts to feel like a parody of himself. The familiar tropes are here again, recombined and served up for a mild dose of amusement - not as funny as when they were fresher, but still entertaining.

Reviews and more on my blog: Entering the Enchanted Castle

I appreciate Rohr's emphasis on universal love and seeing God in all things, but this book had too much fuzzy logic, ungrounded assumptions and muddled references that undermined the argument, such as it was. Other reviews have pointed out some of the issues, like a misunderstanding of the nature of neutrinos and misquoting Richard Dawkins; others that I noticed were Rohr making much of a Greek word spoken by Jesus (who presumably spoke Aramaic, not Greek) and saying that the New Testament was mostly written by Jesus and Paul (Jesus did not leave any writings whatsoever). A good editor should have caught these howlers before publication!

Aside from that, I could not be so startled as Rohr seems to expect by the revolutionary new way of seeing Christ that he is proclaiming, perhaps because it is not new to me. Indeed it has always seemed obvious to me that the nature of Christ cannot be sectarian, or even limited to one religion, and a Christian path cannot be solely about individual salvation. Is it because I was not raised in any ironclad religious mindset that I don't find this a huge revelation? It seems to me that there are other writers and thinkers who have talked about the universal Christ in a much more lucid and cogent way, Rudolf Steiner being the one who has brought me the most coherent insights.

I'm sorry the message is marred by lack of intellectual rigor, because it is important, and Rohr is clearly very passionate about it and a person who wants to bring light and healing to many. There are some pointers here in the right direction, but also some that may lead off to false paths, I fear. Embracing a Christ who loves and is present for all humanity does not mean losing all sense of distinction and borders between ideas and phenomena, as Rohr does when he makes sweeping statements like “The whole world is Christ.” Some sifting and discernment needs to be done to discover what's what. No spiritual text should ever be swallowed whole and unthinkingly, but this one could have done with a bit more digestion before going out into the world.

Reviews and more on my blog: Entering the Enchanted Castle

I had to skip the next Uncle Fred book because it was still on hold at the library. So I went straight to book 2, which is not a problem as the situation with Uncle Fred never really changes. He simply causes trouble, whatever venue he may find himself in. The usual mess of mistaken identities and impostures, absurd plots and romantic mix-ups was gloriously silly and cheered me up no end.

Reviews and more on my blog: Entering the Enchanted Castle

In need of some comic relief, I wanted to read through the Uncle Fred stories starting with this, the book in which he first appears. He's only in one of the short stories – “Uncle Fred Flits By” – but that one is a prize of the collection. It's a hilarious episode in which said Uncle Fred (aka the Earl of Ickenham) torments his nephew Pongo (one of the “young men in spats”) by dragging him along as he descends on unsuspecting citizens in a variety of false identities. Further analysis would be useless and only detract from the comic pleasure; read the story and have your funny bone tickled.

The other stories were also entertaining, if you enjoy reading highly verbal comedy mixed with slapstick about feckless young men in England between the wars. Wodehouse is the indisputable master of the genre and this collection is a good sampling of his best stuff.

Reviews and more on my blog: Entering the Enchanted Castle

After Year of the Mad King, I went back in time to Sher's previous Theatre Diary about his performance as Falstaff. This one had less about his personal life and more about his uncertainty about playing the iconic character, doubts which did not show in the end (I watched the filmed performance of Henry IV Part I and he seemed totally at home, only – in spite of his “fat suit” – not terribly fat). It was most interesting to read about some of the artistic choices and decisions that went into the final product, including some shades of interpretation and meaning. I'd really like to read Year of the King as well now.

Reviews and more on my blog: Entering the Enchanted Castle

A comfort reread of a childhood favorite. I always loved to imagine myself into Menolly's place, studying music, making friends and enjoying the company of tiny dragonlike creatures on a variation of the usual vaguely medieval fantasy world. Right now it provided some welcome escape.

Reviews and more on my blog: Entering the Enchanted Castle

This one reminded me of Jane Gardam – a slow transformation and steps in self-knowledge, funny and heartwarming.

Reviews and more on my blog: Entering the Enchanted Castle

I loved reading about Sher's life and his artistic process, woven together. Especially moving was the way mortality and his aging body affected him in the course of bringing Lear to production. I would definitely like to read more of these memoirs.

Finally read this popular guide by a British resident of Switzerland. I could do without the stupid jokes and bathroom language – it's so middle school to find it funny when acronyms in a foreign language spell FART, etc. Spare me. Also, saying “So very Swiss (or un-Swiss)” got tiresome and was unnecessary since we KNOW he's writing about the Swiss, and also, they are not so monolithic as all that, quite the contrary. But there was some useful and interesting information to be found as well, including a pocket history of the country, and advice on some customs and traditions. I was left feeling there was a lot missing, though ... little on literary connections, art, or on connections with health and wellness, for example. Truly, for such a small country Switzerland seems to have endless depths to mine.

Reviews and more on my blog: Entering the Enchanted Castle

Another lovely book from Stella Gibbons. I'm most impressed by how she can keep me engaged with characters who are not terribly likeable.

Sharp's first novel was apparently written in one month, and it's a remarkable accomplishment if so! I found Ann quite endearing and her adventures in choosing the right man, and becoming herself against the weight of her overbearing but beloved family, an entertaining diversion. Like all Sharp books that I've read, light but not lacking in depth.

Even though it was filled with exhaustive detail, often drawn directly from Pym's diaries and notebooks (she loved the minutiae of daily life), this biography left me oddly uncertain of the underlying motivations and even the personality of its subject. I felt that I had encountered lots of externals but very little of her inner being. The narrative made it clear that Pym's life had been marked by a succession of attachments to unavailable, uncaring, or downright repellent men (including one Nazi!), yet I could never understand quite why she subjected herself to this treatment, nor what she ultimately made of it all. (It doesn't help that the most important pages from the diaries about some of her most traumatic or embarrassing experiences were ripped out and destroyed.)

Byrne argues that Pym “enjoyed sex” and this made her ahead of her time, that she was a liberated woman and that should encourage and inspire us readers, but it seems to me that this is the sort of liberation that frees MEN to enjoy a woman's favors without offering anything in return in the way of real love or commitment. It's sad, not inspiring.

This does not deter me from wanting to read Pym's novels; on the contrary. I now want to read all of them because I think that I'll find more of Pym's spirit there than in the biography. Her personal life may have all the more given her insight into human relationships, which is what has brought her a loyal and enduring base of fans. I have already enjoyed her first three novels, but now I'm especially interested in reading the later ones that come out of her maturity.

Reading Paula Byrne's biography gave me the urge to read all of Barbara Pym's books. I'd only read the first three, so I started this binge with her fourth published novel, and enjoyed it very much. It's set among a circle of anthropologists and anthropology students, a slyly humorous way of getting us to stand back from our mating rituals and social customs and regard them for the oddities they are. Though she's frequently compared to Jane Austen, JA (for all her wit and humor) has a kind of high moral earnestness that I find Pym sidesteps quite deftly. She sees us as “less than angels,” indeed, and yet still conveys the warm appreciation of humanity that shines through all the best comic writing. I'm definitely glad I followed my impulse and will be reading more Pym soon.

I enjoyed this alternate historical romance, set in a Europe where Napoleon prevailed over Wellington; it's interesting to consider how the balance of power would have shifted, and gives a welcome twist on Regency tropes. The political intrigue took second place to the characters, who were pretty standard types (attractive rake with an underlying yen for commitment, feisty girl with a guilty secret) yet I grew fond of them anyway. I raced through the last 100 pages to find out what happened to them, even though I was sure the right ones would end up together and the bad ones would be punished, given the genre. I had not realized that this is a follow-up to two earlier novels, which give some important background. (There's no indication that I noticed that one character is Black, for instance.) A series that will give a lot of pleasure to Regency fans, in a much darker and grittier strain than Georgette Heyer but still with relatively happy endings.

Another understatedly comic novel from Barbara Pym, this one with a number of self-referential “metafictional” touches – the people (who don't know they are characters in a novel) talk about how different things would be if they were in a novel, and so forth. One of Pym's own books is found in a bookcase, characters from a previous novel make a brief appearance, and an unnamed woman novelist visits a hotel the characters are frequenting (and who else could it be but Pym herself?). I've enjoyed all the novels from Pym's first publishing phase, and will now take a break before tackling the ones published after her long exile from the literary scene.