All posts by Lars Walker

"Those that sleep in the Lord"

Our friend Gene Edward Veith at Cranach blog links to a post where the blogger wonders why, if many young people are being attracted to liturgical churches, as has been widely reported, they aren’t streaming to Lutheran churches.

Our friend Anthony Sacramone, at Strange Herring, provides an answer: Lutherans are boring:

Growing up, all the Lutherans I knew were boring. They minded their ps and qs and paid their taxes on time (begrudgingly—I was LCMS, after all) and kept their heads down and their feet on the ground. They were good citizens and thought things through and were practical, rarely all that imaginative (although every once in a while a teacher would try and shake things up, only to be brought to heel if no great measurable results were forthcoming). There were exceptions, of course. (An elementary school teacher pretty much drank himself to death.) But they were notable for being exceptions.

I would rise to the spirited defense of my Lutheran brethren (and Anthony is a Lutheran, by the way), but I think I need a nap.

Enough to curl your hair

I’m not the Norway expert I thought I was. I hadn’t been aware that the Norwegian Olympic curling team is famous, not for winning matches, but for wearing silly pants.

I do not feel richer for the knowledge. It does make me feel better about my ancestors’ decision to emigrate, though.

Tip: “Scott” at Threedonia.

‘Guilt,’ by Jonathan Kellerman

Another Alex Delaware novel from Jonathan Kellerman, another enjoyable reading experience. The series is long established now, and few surprises are to be expected, except perhaps in terms of whodunnit. But the virtues of the books are consistent. Good main characters, interesting, layered secondary characters. And a studied avoidance of cheap shots at almost anybody, including conservative Christians.

In Guilt, Alex and his gay cop friend, Milo Sturgis, are called to a house where a tree has been uprooted in a storm. Under its roots was found a metal box, and in the box the carefully wrapped skeleton of a baby. A newspaper in the box identifies the burial as from 1951.

Then, in a nearby park, another, newer baby skeleton is found, as well as the body of a young woman, a girl from Oregon who worked as a nanny. Suspicion soon points to an A-list celebrity couple raising their brood of adopted children in seclusion on a heavily guarded estate. It’s easy to imagine what might have happened.

But it’s not as simple as that.

The great joy of a Kellerman novel, novels written by a psychologist about a psychologist, is how the characters reveal themselves, in a sort of psychic undressing. A shallow expectant mother is revealed to be so frightened about the future that she’s having trouble coping. A celebrity turns out to be entirely different than one would expect – or is it all just an act at the end? Nothing interests me like complex human personalities, and that’s where Kellerman excels.

There are some Christian fundamentalists in this one, and Kellerman treats them with his customary decency. An Oregon evangelical pastor who wouldn’t impose his “personal” views about homosexuality on his parishioners seems a bit of a stretch, but it’s a generous stretch by Kellerman’s lights, so I take it in the spirit intended.

Recommended, with the usual caveats.

Alfred the Partial



Statue of Alfred the Great at Wantage. Photo credit: DJ Clayworth.

News from England is that archaeologists think they’ve found a piece of Alfred the Great… or his son.

Preliminary tests suggest that a pelvic bone found in a museum box is either Alfred, or his son, King Edward the Elder. The bone was among remains excavated some 15 years ago at an abbey in Winchester, England, but they were never tested. Instead they were stored in a box at Winchester Museum until archeologists recently came across them.

“The bone is likely to be one of them, I wouldn’t like to say which one,” Kate Tucker, a researcher in human osteology from the University of Winchester told Reuters. Researchers say that, given the historical record, bones that old could only have come from Alfred or his family.

I hope they find more, especially the skull. Can’t get enough of those forensic reconstructions.

In the absence of a skull, the only way to find out what Alfred looked like would be to clone him. And I don’t think anybody over there really wants that. The first thing he’d want to do would be to drive all the foreigners out. Beginning with the Normans.

Come to think of it, I’m going to have an extraneous piece of hip bone available myself in a couple weeks. I wonder if there’s any market for it as a relic. Invest now, before I’m canonized.

‘Live By Night,’ by Denis Lehane

Dennis Lehane, best known for superlative contemporary mysteries, takes on a historical tale in Live By Night, the story of a Boston gangster who becomes a bootlegger king in Tampa. It’s a very good novel. I’m not entirely sure what it’s about thematically, and I’m fairly sure I disagree with the subtext. Still, a worthy read.

Joe Coughlin is a cop’s son, but chooses to become a gangster (he prefers the term “outlaw”). He first sees Emma Gould while robbing an illegal poker game, and he starts dating her even though a mob boss is obsessed with her. One thing leads to another, and Joe ends up doing five years in prison while Emma ends up in a wrecked car in a river.

Joe can never forget her, though he’s sure she’s dead. In prison he gets close to a mob leader who, on his release, sends him down to Tampa to run the rum running operation there. This leads him to great wealth and success, and marriage to a beautiful Cuban woman. He tries to do his job in his own way, showing mercy to people when he can, but gradually he realizes he’s a gangster, not an outlaw. And his longing for lost Emma haunts him until he achieves at last a painful clarity.

I think author Lehane recognizes, and wants us to understand, that Joe is not without his self-delusions. The title of the book, Live By Night, is a reference to his belief that there are day people and night people, and that the night people are more glamorous and more honest, because they’re not hypocrites like the day people. This is of course a rationalization; the only choices in life aren’t between being a corrupt cop or an open criminal. One could, for instance, be a dirt farmer. The work might kill you, but you’d have small scope for corruption.

No, Joe’s real motivation is an addiction to risk-taking, and Lehane admits as much.

All in all, I suspect the real message of the book is essentially Marxist. The Americans are bad because they’re racist and rich. The Cubans, though Lehane admits they’re just as racist, are poor and therefore pure in some sense. The book ends before Castro shows up, so Communism is only addressed in an oblique way.

There is an running theme of religious aspiration, but Lehane doesn’t seem to see much hope in it.

But it’s not a heavy-handed book. Anything but. Live By Night is a well-written, moving story. Cautions for language and adult themes.

'Live By Night,' by Denis Lehane

Dennis Lehane, best known for superlative contemporary mysteries, takes on a historical tale in Live By Night, the story of a Boston gangster who becomes a bootlegger king in Tampa. It’s a very good novel. I’m not entirely sure what it’s about thematically, and I’m fairly sure I disagree with the subtext. Still, a worthy read.

Joe Coughlin is a cop’s son, but chooses to become a gangster (he prefers the term “outlaw”). He first sees Emma Gould while robbing an illegal poker game, and he starts dating her even though a mob boss is obsessed with her. One thing leads to another, and Joe ends up doing five years in prison while Emma ends up in a wrecked car in a river.

Joe can never forget her, though he’s sure she’s dead. In prison he gets close to a mob leader who, on his release, sends him down to Tampa to run the rum running operation there. This leads him to great wealth and success, and marriage to a beautiful Cuban woman. He tries to do his job in his own way, showing mercy to people when he can, but gradually he realizes he’s a gangster, not an outlaw. And his longing for lost Emma haunts him until he achieves at last a painful clarity.

I think author Lehane recognizes, and wants us to understand, that Joe is not without his self-delusions. The title of the book, Live By Night, is a reference to his belief that there are day people and night people, and that the night people are more glamorous and more honest, because they’re not hypocrites like the day people. This is of course a rationalization; the only choices in life aren’t between being a corrupt cop or an open criminal. One could, for instance, be a dirt farmer. The work might kill you, but you’d have small scope for corruption.

No, Joe’s real motivation is an addiction to risk-taking, and Lehane admits as much.

All in all, I suspect the real message of the book is essentially Marxist. The Americans are bad because they’re racist and rich. The Cubans, though Lehane admits they’re just as racist, are poor and therefore pure in some sense. The book ends before Castro shows up, so Communism is only addressed in an oblique way.

There is an running theme of religious aspiration, but Lehane doesn’t seem to see much hope in it.

But it’s not a heavy-handed book. Anything but. Live By Night is a well-written, moving story. Cautions for language and adult themes.

Old Norse video

Here’s a very weird little video, featuring a couple of fellows, one of whom is apparently speaking Old Norse authentically. The other may be doing the same, but I’m not sure. There’s obviously some humor going on here, probably crude in view of the “grabbing” gag.

But it’s fun to hear Old Norse done in an impressive voice.

'Time Release,' by Martin J. Smith

Let me take this opportunity to apologize for posting so much about my hip problem lately. That’s not what you come here for, and I appreciate your patience. My most recent discovery has been that using crutches instead of a cane punishes my body a whole lot less, so I’m now in considerably less pain than I was. Thanks for the prayers.

As a reward, here’s a book review: Time Release, by Martin J. Smith.

It’s hard not to compare Time Release to Jonathan Kellerman’s Alex Delaware novels. Like the Delaware stories, this one centers on a psychologist summoned by a policeman friend to help him investigate a series of murders. But the differences are numerous too. The setting here is Pittsburgh and its grim environs, rather than Los Angeles, and Smith’s characters, psychologist Jim Christensen and detective Gary Downing, are a lot more damaged by life. Christensen is still recovering from the loss of his wife, on whom he “pulled the plug” after brain death, and Downing’s career has never recovered from the way he botched a drug poisoning case, reminiscent of the Tylenol murders. He lost his objectivity because one of the victims was his secret lover, something he has never shared with anyone.

Now the poisonings seem to have resumed after ten years. Downing thinks the surviving son of his chief suspect may have repressed memories that would help his case. Would Christensen talk to the young man and see?

Christensen reluctantly agrees, not realizing that in doing so he is putting his remaining family in mortal danger. Some secrets are almost too hard to face, and some people would kill the innocent rather than face them.

Time Release is an adequate thriller. I never thought that it soared, and the relentless grimness of the story wore me down a bit. Religion is not a major theme, but is always in the background. Christensen, who has become an atheist, takes a cheap shot at the Bible at one point, but he still prays when desperate, and we’re given no reason to think that’s a stupid thing to do.

The price of the book is low, and I didn’t hate it. Worth reading if you like this sort of thing. Cautions for language and adult themes.

Content-free update

Just an update on my health situation. It’s a short one — I don’t know anything I didn’t know Tuesday.

I have an appointment to see my surgeon tomorrow. I assume I’ll learn something then.

They gave me pain killers, which help a fair amount. One odd side effect is the hiccups, and a diminishment of appetite.

I’ll keep you posted.