Maidenhood May Be a Good Fit for You

Gina Dalfonzo, editor of BreakPoint.org and Dickensblog, explains how Joss Weldon’s Much Ado About Nothing undermines itself in the opening scenes by depicting Benedick and Beatrice having a one-night stand before the play begins. This is a play about a betrayal plot to ruin a man’s life by ruining his finance’s virtue. She is a maiden, that is, a virgin, and her friends vehemently defend her.

“Hero’s father hints at one point that an already-engaged couple yielding to temptation wouldn’t be such a grave offense. But a drunken one-night stand–that would have gone against everything that Beatrice had ever been taught.”

This may be a good example of many retellings of old stories, Shakespearean and non. The plot is established and relatively unchanged, but when modern writers attempt to add modern backstory to the characters, they do so within their own moral framework, not recognizing the contrast between their world and the original writer’s.

Cop to Corpse, by Peter Lovesey

I’ve read some Peter Lovesey novels in the past that I liked very much, particularly Rough Cider, which was troubling but unforgettable. He’s had a very successful career, and among his detective series is the Peter Diamond mysteries, about a police inspector in the city of Bath. So I tried Cop to Corpse.

Three policeman walking beats have been sniper victims in the Bath and Wells area in a short time. Someone is lying in wait for them with an assault rifle. At the third scene, a detective who discovered the shooter’s hiding place is knocked unconscious while waiting for forensic technicians.

Detective Peter Diamond has to pick his way carefully through puzzling and sometimes contradictory clues while trying to cooperate with competitive fellow cops and rival squads, as he tries to discover the murderer – or murderers – before another policeman is killed.

It is often complained of police procedurals that they fail to convey the full tedium of police work. I think the Peter Diamond books must be more realistic than most, because to be honest I found this one kind of dreary reading. The puzzle was interesting enough, and some opinions were expressed that didn’t entirely offend me. But Peter Diamond is not a charismatic guy, and I didn’t finish the book eager to read more about him.

I’m not saying it’s a bad book. As I mentioned, the low key might just be a touch of realism. You may like it better than I did. Cautions for the usual.

Baker on Odd

Our friend Hunter Baker praises Dean Koontz’ Odd Thomas books over at Touchstone Magazine:

Years of major market success gain an author freedom to do what he wants. In the last decade, Koontz has invested his considerable artistic capital in becoming a more intentional instructor of the soul. His device for moral and spiritual teaching is a young man named Odd. Odd, like Koontz, is a Catholic. He is bright, handsome, and athletic. His parents are divorced and both highly dysfunctional. Odd’s inattentive, playboy father comes from a family with a lot of money. His mother doesn’t deserve the name. Given his upbringing, Odd is a miracle. He is God’s child more than he is the child of two people who refuse to grow up.

Avoiding Message Movies

Writer Bill Kauffman and director Ron Maxwell both hate heavy-handed message movies, so they worked together to give us a Civil War story that doesn’t paint in primary colors. Christian Toto writes, “Copperhead… examines an aspect of history Kauffman says is often ignored—the side of the argument told by those who lost the war.

“‘We tend to sweep the losers down the memory hole as though there was only one side in any debate,’ he says. ‘The guys who lost … we paint Snidely Whiplash mustaches upon them.'”

Cover Versions of Shakespeare's Play

Author Jeanette Winterson, who loves cover versions of established stories, is writing a prose version of Shakespeare’s The Winter’s Tale as part of Random House’s effort to rewrite all of the bard’s plays for his 400th anniversary.

“The Shakespeare purists,” she says, “miss the point about his exuberant ragbag of borrowings thrown into the alchemical furnace of his mind and lifted out transformed. He sums up the creative process, which is not concerned with originality of source but originality of re-making.”

I understand retelling stories, but while West Side Story may be based on Romeo and Juliet, it isn’t the same story. Play it cool, boy. And we all know you can retell essential stories again and again. People like cliches, but they will love one story over another because of the details around the essentials. When contemporary writers retell Shakespearean tales, it’s usually like telling a good joke wrong.

Hollywood Stories, by Stephen Schochet

I’ve mentioned before that I’m fascinated by old Hollywood. Even modern Hollywood interests me mildly, but the silent era and the Golden Age draw me like a beautiful woman (no doubt the prevalence of beautiful women in the town’s lore has a lot to do with that).

So I downloaded Hollywood Stories: a Book about Celebrities, Movie Stars, Gossip, Directors, Famous People, History, and more! by Stephen Schochet. (The hardcover’s pretty pricey, but the Kindle version isn’t bad.) I found a fascinating, highly entertaining collection of anecdotes, loosely organized by theme with little regard to chronology. A special plus was that – contrary to my expectations for Hollywood books – this one is conservative-friendly. Author Schochet, whose main career is doing Hollywood tours, has made a special effort to find conservative, and even Christian-friendly, incidents in the wicked old town’s long history, thus offering a generally fresh angle.

He describes Jim Caviezel suffering through the filming of The Passion of the Christ: “At one point, when he was on the cross he was actually struck by lightning. The people on the ground scattered for cover while Jim Cavaziel (sic) looked up to the sky and asked, ‘What, you didn’t like that take?’”

And he delights in telling of how Shirley Temple once plinked Eleanor Roosevelt in the bottom with a slingshot. He goes on to say:

Extra: Later that year, Shirley met Massachusetts Governor Charles Hurley (1893-1946). The Democrat politician accidentally slammed a car door on Temple’s hand and chased the kids away from his limo. The ten-year old star didn’t like the way Hurley treated others and decided that she would be a Republican.

I don’t know if all these stories are true; probably no one does. But I enjoyed them immensely, and recommend this book highly.

Is Christian Martyrdom a Myth?

Carl Trueman reviews Candida Moss’ book, The Myth of Persecution: How Early Christians Invented a Story of Martyrdom.

Her argument is simple: the myth of the persecution of Christians has fuelled a paranoid victim mentality on the political Right that imperils intelligent civil discourse. Ironically, as she makes this case, she herself engages in precisely the kind of myth making that she rightly decries. On page 252, she recounts her shock at hearing two students at Notre Dame expressing no sympathy for a nine-year old rape victim who had had an abortion. She was right to be shocked; but if her point is that the Christian mythology of persecution polarizes the world around and destroys civil discourse, then she herself here provides a good example of how alternative myths do much the same.

Mediterranean Grave, by William Doonan


“… And I’m really going to need for you to leave us now. Sitting at someone’s table without being invited is rude.”

“Let me tell you something,” I said, helping myself to her toast, “I’ve been called rude many times and I’ve never believed it. I’m a lovely man. I think when someone calls me rude it’s because they don’t want to talk to me. And the only reason someone wouldn’t want to talk with me is because they have something to hide.”

I’ve expressed the opinion here before that a lot of the best series detective characters are wish-fulfillment figures. Hard-boiled private eyes tend to have lives their male readers dream of having. I assume female detective heroes (which I generally don’t read) fulfill a similar function for women.

William Doonan’s Henry Grave, hero of Mediterranean Grave (sequel to Grave Passage, which I reviewed a couple days back), is a new kind of wish-fulfillment hero, in my experience. He’s pretty much the guy I’d love to be (but am sure I won’t be) when I get old. Older.

84-year-old Henry Grave works as an investigator for an organization of cruise ship owners. His professional technique is reminiscent of Peter Falk’s Columbo character on TV, playing the clueless bumbler who disarms suspects to the point where they get sloppy and make mistakes. Harry takes that game up a notch by presenting himself as a semi-senile, deaf, nearsighted old codger. This method allows him to have a very good time while doing his job, drinking heavily, eating about every five minutes, and flirting with every pretty girl he meets. And yet, when it comes to a showdown, Henry Graves is Shiva, the avenger without mercy.

In Mediterranean Grave, Henry finds himself aboard the cruising yacht Vesper, an unusually small and elderly ship catering to New Agers. The ship is anchored in the Greek archipelago when the story begins. An Egyptian policeman, on board to guard a priceless archaeological artifact, has been found murdered in his cabin. The artifact, an inscribed cup that gives the promise of being a Rosetta Stone for the heretofore undeciphered Minoan language, has disappeared.

Henry proceeds to investigate in his signature fashion, saying anything he darn well pleases and going anywhere he darn well likes, and when he gets in trouble either playing the age card or pulling rank. His shamelessness sometimes makes me laugh out loud, but his serious heart occasionally moves me deeply.

Cautions for adult themes (one male character who abandoned his wife for another woman is described as a “good man,” but I don’t look to Henry for moral wisdom). At $2.99 for a Kindle download, I’d say the Henry Grave mysteries are about as good an entertainment deal as any books you’ll find. After mine, of course.

You can't get there from here



Beautiful downtown Robbinsdale

It was a weekend of detours, of cancellations and adjustments. You might be able to do what you planned this past weekend, if you had the misfortune to be me, but you had to find a new approach.

The pattern for our days in this neck of the woods has been hot weather with vicious storms overnight. Rinse, repeat. Wherever you travel in the Twin Cities, you see branches on the ground. Small branches most everywhere, large branches here and there, and now and then a whole tree keeled over onto somebody’s home or car.

I myself didn’t suffer any damage I’m aware of. But I saw some.

On Saturday I took myself off to Culver’s, a fine hamburger establishment on which I’d decided to bestow my business that day. As I drove off I saw the beginnings of what would be a momentous event in the history of my town. The street one block over from me was abundant with rivers of water, and what looked like a fountain was bubbling up in the midst of it (probably, I assume, from a manhole cover). The little park alongside was filling up with brown runoff. Police were just then pulling up to cordon the street off.

When I got back from lunch the flooding was more extensive. I was temporarily the owner of property with a lake view, though it was a pretty dirty lake. Continue reading You can't get there from here