The Christ Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest

Day 87 of the "What are you reading, and why?" project. Kim is reading Saving Jesus from the Church, by Robin R. Meyers, because she is interested in Jesus the man.

"Zooey would like it," says Kim, referring to Franny and Zooey, by J. D. Salinger, which we recently read together in our book group. (And, yes, this is yesterday's Kim, the same Kim of Hummus Anonymous, the blog.) "I'm not sure about Willie B."

The "Willie B." Kim is referring to is William B. Irvine, author of A Guide to the Good Life: The Ancient Art of Stoic Joy, reviewed recently by James Fulcher in The Common Review. I was telling her about the book in the context of classical Stoicism as a way of making the best of life's suffering, and finding peace and equanimity with whatever is at hand.

For Jesus, of course, the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand. In my view, it is at hand in the present moment. (But, as I've mentioned, I don't believe in linear time...so all we have is the present moment, and that's not so far from existentialism, either. Topic for another day.)

According to Kim, in reference to Saving Jesus from the Church, "The premise of the book seems to be that followers of Jesus the man are getting it right, whereas 'believers' in Christ the Savior are not." I'm thinking followers of Jesus the man are in touch with their Stoic joy, their Buddhist suffering, and also that they understand the value and risk of practicing what you preach. But I will have to read the book to find out.

Or ask the man himself. Kim also reports that "the author Robin Meyers will likely be here in the fall to speak, sign books (a new one coming out) and lead workshops. "

Meanwhile, Amazon tells me you can now pre-order The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest, by Stieg Larsson, in hardcover, and/or get it in various formats (Kindle, Large Print, or imported). The movie of the first book in the series is coming to our town, before Robin Meyers comes to town, and is already playing in a nearby town, and has freaked out an area blogger, Julie, due to its violence. Here is her review of The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo.

And I think Zooey would also like the Irvine book, and understand the Stoic joy thing, because Epictetus is in it, and he was a big Stoic. But Zooey is a fictional character, and so is Biff, Jesus's childhood friend, a fellow I rely on to tell me most of what I know about Jesus the man. I'm pretty sure my research has something to be desired.

But watch out. According to some, desire is the cause of all suffering. (I think they might have it a little wrong... Desire is fine. The problem is thinking you can attain/obtain everything you desire. Ah, another topic for another day! Heh heh, leave 'em wanting more.)

A Study in Cozy

Day 60 of the "What are you reading, and why?" project.

Jo is still reading mystery after mystery, and I have just been re-reading the opening chapter of Reasonable Doubt, by Steve Vogel, a true crime book.

Today I want to share with you Jo's categorization system for mystery, and also ponder that "scarlet thread" as it winds through real life.

Jo says there are two main kinds of mystery: cozy and not cozy. Within these are a number of subcategories and degrees. A cozy murder mystery is often set in a small town or other non-metropolitan setting. The reader will not be exposed to a lot of blood and gore, and good will prevail in the end. That is, the murderer will be found out, caught, and punished or sent off into the legal system, or meet his/her own bad end.

A subcategory of cozy is fluffy, where the detective or investigator is often unconventional, maybe even more of a busybody than a professional. Fluffy mysteries are cute and often come in series. There can be lots of sidetracking and silliness, but justice will prevail in a happy ending.

My parents were listening to another in the No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency series by Alexander McCall Smith in the car on our recent road trip to Ohio. A delightful, cozy mystery. I got interested in the people.

Not cozy mysteries are gritty, often set in big cities, and don't shy away from tough language and the hard realities of life. In a gritty mystery, the reader may well see the murder take place, in all its blood and gore, in present action, or in imagined re-enactment during the autopsy or a court proceeding flashback. The violence may be gross and extreme.

A subcategory of either cozy or gritty mysteries is the police procedural, where we learn what happened during the investigation, which has its own intrigues.

Those Swedish mysteries by Stieg Larsson sound pretty gritty to me. But I haven't cracked open my Girl With the Dragon Tattoo yet. Eww.

Reasonable Doubt, by Steve Vogel, opens as a police procedural. We discover the bodies with police officer Mike Hibbens. And we see lots of blood, eventually, when flashlights give way to room illumination, and a horrific scene of a mother and children murdered in their home. The horror is in the idea. Vogel spares us what he can, and does not manipulate or exaggerate. He wasn't there; he is re-enacting the scene from the point of view of Hibbens and is giving us the realizations as they come. But the axe and the butcher knife are right there in the middle of the bed.

This is a true crime story, by a radio news director who was troubled by discrepancies in the case. David Hendricks, a traveling salesman, was accused and convicted of the crime of killing his family. He sold prosthetic limbs, designed & sold a medical back-brace, perhaps dallied with the models for his catalogues, and belonged to an evangelical Christian sect, so there was an icky factor as the police investigation and trial progressed. Icky after the horrible fact of the deaths.

An important book, raising, well, reasonable doubts, Vogel's own investigation as a writer caused the case to be re-opened, and Hendricks was retried and got out of jail. What really happened remains a mystery, and telling you the readily available reported facts of the case is not really a spoiler for this book. It grips you and makes you want the real killer, whoever it is, to be found out, caught, and punished. Especially, in my case, because it happened in my small, cozy town.

Playing with Fire

Day 29 of the "What are you reading, and why?" project.

Susan--different Susan, not the one who has been commenting here regularly--is now reading The Girl Who Played with Fire, by Stieg Larsson, the second in that trilogy of thrillers, and eagerly awaiting the third, to be released in May, 2010, unless you have a friend in Sweden you can send you an early copy....

Susan was a bit worried about the author's death, lest he leave her hanging.

She is reading the second book now, in hardcover, because she got hooked by the first, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, which she listened to, lounging on the beach on a recent vacation, when she ran out of all her other books. She was lucky enough to find Clay's Quilt, by Silas House, in a small-town bookstore in South Carolina, so she is ready for tonight's book group discussion of it!

I would like now to pause and praise firefighters. Thank you, firefighters! Susan and Kim may be laughing at me now, thinking I am praising the muscular male firefighters who appear on calendars, in romantic comedies and sitcoms, and who answered a 911 call a few years back at a women's spirituality retreat, but I refer to all firefighters everywhere, men and women, and to this fine memoir by a volunteer firefighter, Population: 485: Meeting Your Neighbors One Siren at a Time, by Michael Perry.

Don't play with fire.