Non-fiction, Religion

‘Marked by Miracles,’ by Dixey Behnken

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I’d like to plug a new book written by a friend of mine, retired Army Chaplain Dixey R. Behnken. Dixey was my first college roommate, and I was there when he was born again. I reviewed the manuscript of Marked by Miracles at his request before publication, so I have some fingerprints on it.

Dixey is one of the more colorful Christians I’ve ever met. He’s been through a lot and seen a lot. He’s a Pentecostal, so we have some theological differences, but he’s a good guy with a faithful story to tell. He wrote the book after suffering a devastating stroke, so it’s a kind of a miracle in its own right.

Have a great weekend.

Fiction, Reviews

‘City of the Dead,’ by Jonathan Kellerman

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At this point in time, one doesn’t go to Jonathan Kellerman’s Alex Delaware novels for novelty. A pile of them have been published over the years, and in a non-fictional world both the main characters would be long retired.

But there are other reading pleasures in the world than novelty. Psychologist Alex Delaware and his L.A. police lieutenant friend Milo Sturgis are old buddies to fans, and you don’t need a new experience every time you get together with old buddies. So we have City of the Dead, the latest in the series.

This time out, Milo asks Alex to accompany him to view a body in an exclusive neighborhood. A naked man has been hit by a moving van. The cop on the scene notices a blood trail leading to a nearby house. Inside he found a woman murdered. When Alex views that corpse, he realizes he knows her.

She is a sometime model, now an “internet influencer.” She poses as a psychological counselor, which is how Alex encountered her, pretending to a doctorate she doesn’t possess. She seems to have been a charlatan, but she didn’t deserve to have her throat cut.

A deep dive into her background, and that of the male victim, leads into sad stories of family dysfunction and personal “reinvention.” But it’s harder to find anyone who had reason or opportunity to kill them. The true solution will be far more bizarre than anyone imagined.

I found the plot of City of the Dead a bit disappointing, to be honest. The solution depended on a coincidence rather than detective work.

But it was an opportunity to spend time with a couple of my favorite literary characters. I’m not complaining.

Authors

Conservative Humorist P. J. O’Rourke Has Died

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“Always read stuff that will make you look good if you die in the middle of it.”

— P. J. O’Rourke

Author P. J. O’Rourke died yesterday evening. John Podhoretz called him possibly “the nicest man I’ve ever known.”

“It isn’t an exaggeration to say that P.J. was, for a long time, the only cool conservative writer in America.”

Our friend (I say perhaps too presumptively, as if we are actual friends or that I have friends at all), and in case you missed it, let me repeat, our friend Anthony Sacramone points to an awakening moment for him in the pages of O’Rourke’s Republican Party Reptile. “I’m not alone! You can be an anti-communist and funny!”

Music, Religion

‘Eg Veit i Himmerik ei Borg’

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Another day in between reviews, and I’ve been at work translating. Also I didn’t leave the house today, except for my a.m. gym visit. So what shall I post?

I’ve had Norway on my mind lately (to the surprise of nobody, I know), so a hymn from Sissel is indicated (again to the surprise of… you know). I’m not sure if I’ve used this song here before. It’s an old hymn – Eg Veit i Himmerik ei Borg (I Know a Castle in Heaven). The text is German, from the 16th Century. But the music is traditional Norwegian – in fact it survived as a folk song rather than as a formal church hymn.

Translation, via Wikipedia:

I know of a heavenly stronghold
shining as bright as the sun;
there are neither sin nor sorrow
and never a tear is shed.

I am a weary traveller;
may my path lead me
from here to the land of my father;
God, protect me on my way.

We thank you for eternity
God the Father, one in three.
For you are gentle and mild to us
in Jesus Christ! Amen.

James Cameron heard a recording of Sissel doing this one, and decided to hire her for the backup vocals in Titanic.

It’s the most medieval-sounding Norwegian hymn I know, which makes me particularly fond of it. I may have news about myself and Norway coming up soon. I’ll keep you posted.

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Please don’t Include me, thank you very much

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So I took myself out for lunch yesterday. Went somewhere I hadn’t been in a while. It’s a diner called “The 50s Grill.” Not far from where I live. Excellent food and tremendous desserts. Kind of expensive for a diner, but really worth it.

They do the best hamburger I know of in town (no doubt I’ve missed some; don’t look to me as an authority). But I didn’t want a burger that day, so I got the meatloaf lunch. Very nice. And then they were advertising this Black Forest Cake with cherries in it, and I couldn’t resist that. My only complaint was that it was too large. (I skipped supper to make up for it.)

The waitress, an older later, was very nice. When I was done, as she was passing, she patted my shoulder and whispered, “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

I was, frankly, surprised. I hadn’t even been thinking about the holiday. I suddenly saw myself through her eyes. Old man, eating alone on Valentine’s Day, orders a fancy dessert. Probably a widower, reliving past happiness.

But no, really, that wasn’t my intention. I just wanted to eat out somewhere different. I had no intention of horning in on someone else’s holiday.

On Facebook, I saw a couple instances yesterday of single people trying to redefine the holiday to include them. Give it a new name. Make it Inclusive.

I’m frankly sick of the word “Inclusive.” When I happen to see a couple I know out on a date, I don’t sit down at the table with them, “including” myself in their night out. It belongs to them. If I want a date, I should get my own girlfriend. If I want a holiday, I should start one. Nobody’s stopping me. I’d be celebrating by myself, but that would kind of be the point, wouldn’t it?

One of P.G. Wodehouse’s great characters is Uncle Galahad Threepwood. Uncle Gally is the brother of Clarence, Earl of Emsworth, and shows up periodically in the Blandings Castle stories. It’s often said of him that it’s unfair that anyone should have had so much fun for so many years and still look so youthful and healthy. His chief function in the stories is to smooth the way for young couples whose parents are trying to keep them apart for one stuffy reason or another.

Occasionally Uncle Gally’s back story is mentioned. He once fell in love with a music hall performer, and his parents prevented their marriage. He has taken his revenge in the best way, by doing for others what no one was there to do for him.

As I’ve frequently mentioned, I don’t believe in the religion of True Love as understood in our culture (though The Princess Bride is great). But I think old single people ought to have Uncle Gally for a role model, rather than trying to Include Themselves in everybody else’s happiness.

Fiction, Reviews

‘Dark Horse,’ by Gregg Hurwitz

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Aragón set the glass down, pushed it away. “Maturity is graduating from the belief that the world misunderstands you to the awareness that you misunderstand the world.” He laced his fingers together. “Who I have failed to become is the story of why my daughter suffers. That load of product I burned yesterday? I could have burned it, burned them all, two years ago or three. And then maybe she would be safe. I didn’t need you to tell me to do it. I didn’t need you. But clearly I did.”

The Orphan X series by Gregg Hurwitz is an amazing set of books that keeps getting better and better. I have a couple personal quibbles, but reading the latest, Dark Horse, was a delight overall.

As you may recall, Orphan X is Evan Smoak (also known as the Nowhere Man). A former super-secret government agent, he managed to get free and now operates as a freelance white knight, rescuing people in bad trouble. He lives in an expensive Los Angeles penthouse apartment. It’s a sterile, minimalist space where he finds comfort in his OCD.

That space was violated in the last novel, and now he’s in the process of rebuilding. But he’s interrupted by a plea for help from someone to whom he ordinarily wouldn’t give two seconds – a drug lord from the Texas border country.

Aragon Urrea tries to operate at a higher level than the cartels. He eschews terrorist tactics, contributes to the welfare of the people in his territory, and has always maintained his family’s home as an island of normal life. He has raised his daughter Anjelina to be a good person. But now she’s been kidnapped by a cartel, from her 18th birthday party.

Evan doesn’t like the idea of working for a drug dealer, but Anjelina is an innocent. He agrees to try to get her out, which involves infiltrating the cartel.

But that’s not Evan’s only problem. He’s having trouble relating to his teenaged ward, the female computer hacker Joey, who wants his permission to go on a solo road trip. Evan has no idea how to deal with adolescent rebellion, but he knows he doesn’t want her running around unprotected in this dangerous world.

And then there’s his almost-girlfriend Mia, who lives in the same building, and is facing a personal crisis beyond Evan’s power to help. Except that she wants him to give support to her son Peter. Another kid needing guidance from a guy who never experienced a real family.

Dark Horse is more than an action thriller. It’s about a damaged, obsessive-compulsive man forced (reluctantly) to engage with the world of human feelings and needs, far outside his comfort zone. He can put a bullet through a human heart with no trouble – but can he comfort a broken heart?

Author Hurwitz has been constantly raising the level of the Orphan X books. They’re becoming (in my opinion) something really wonderful and moving. I highly recommend them. Cautions for language and mayhem.

My only problem was that some PC elements were inserted where they really weren’t necessary. I hope the author gets over that.

Music

Sunday Singing: Be Still, My Soul

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“Be Still, My Soul” performed by the Norton Hall Band

Catharina Amalia Dorothea von Schlegel, an 18th century German, wrote the original of this marvelous hymn, “Be Still, My Soul.” The tune is “Finlandia,” originally a tone poem by the brilliant Jean Sibelius of Finland.

1 Be still, my soul: the Lord is on thy side;
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain;
Leave to thy God to order and provide;
In ev’ry change he faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul: thy best, thy heav’nly Friend
Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

Continue reading Sunday Singing: Be Still, My Soul →
Blogs, Socials, Coffee, Tea, Drinks, Publishing

A Bright Age for Dropouts Drinking Coffee and Reading Defunct Lit-mags

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One of my daughters likes spicy food but doesn’t eat it much. She’s willing to try anything hot, and this week it was a dried Carolina Reaper, the world’s hottest pepper. I urged her to prepare for eating it by reading what she could find online, but no, she just scarfed it up and downed a milk shake as a counter measure. She told me she was going to do it but not when she would, so I didn’t know she had until she came to us at 1:30 a.m. to ask for help with sharp stomach pain. She threw up a few minutes later, which I understand is a normal response to eating these peppers.

So what are we linking to today?

Local Coffee: Some poor businessman failed to read the room when launching plans to remodel an Arby’s in Livingston, Montana, into a Starbucks. The community has a number of local coffee shops, like Chadz on N. Main and Eastside Coffee in the historic district, and the Livingston Business Improvement District don’t want Big Coffee to put a squeeze on them.

The Bright Ages: On the latest Prufrock podcast, Micah Mattix talks to the authors of a medieval history that focuses on many of the details we ignore about the Middle Ages. “It was, for the most part, seen as neither a virtue nor a vice that a city or region would contain various people from various places speaking various languages. It was a fact.”

Kudos to Mattix’s revived Prufrock newsletter, which you can subscribe to through the website of Spectator World.

Dropping Out: Hippies and drop outs were afraid, in part, of societal brainwashing and the mind-control everyone was talking about in the 60s. They wanted to know and live their true selves. (via Arts & Letters Daily)

Closing Shop: Literary magazines are being shut down. (Via Arts & Letters Daily)

Racism: A popular anti-racist author claims, “The only remedy to past discrimination is present discrimination. The only remedy to present discrimination is future discrimination.” That’s how you fight bad discrimination, friends. You fight it with your own discrimination.

Photo: Newman’s Drugs, Lake Huntington, New York. 1976. John Margolies Roadside America photograph archive (1972-2008), Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division.

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The Viking Ship Museum

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More video tonight. This is an amateur video, but pretty well done, of the Viking Ship Museum in Oslo. I’ve been there, of course, but I’ll probably never see it again. They closed it down recently for a five-year expansion. While they’re at it, they’re also working on stabilizing the old ships (I personally blame their deterioration on a guy I know, whose name I won’t divulge, who once put his hands on the Gokstad ship while the guards weren’t looking). By the time the renovation project is done, I’ll probably be too old to travel over there.

The one with the curly prow and stern is the Oseberg Ship, the oldest of the two. It seems to have been sort of a royal yacht, and two women were found buried in it. One assumes they’re a mistress and her slave, but they still haven’t worked out who’s who.

The one with the plain prow and stern is the Gokstad, which is larger and a genuine fighting ship. A tall man, wounded in the leg, was found buried in it. Among his grave goods was a peacock. That always amused me. A questionable tradition says its occupant was Olaf Gierstad-Elf, an ancestor of Saint Olaf, who plays a small role, as a ghost, in my novel-in-progress.

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The forgotten palace

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Nothing to review tonight. It’s a rich moment in my reading life – just enjoyed a new Dean Koontz (reviewed the other day), then I revisited Travis McGee (review yesterday) and now I’m on a new Greg Hurwitz Orphan X novel. Times to savor.

The video above is about the church/royal residence at Avaldsnes, on Karmøy island in Norway. I’ve talked about it often before. My great-grandfather was baptized in the church with the tower (though the tower wasn’t there at the time – it had to be restored in the 1920s). I have ancestors in that graveyard.

The first time I visited, in the 1990s, the relative who was showing Dad and me around told us they’d done some archaeological excavation south of the church, and discovered a secret tunnel. They were looking forward to further discoveries.

It wasn’t until 2017 that government funding made serious excavation possible. What the archaeologists discovered amazed them. An entire royal hall had once existed south of the church (as reconstructed in the video).

What amazes me is that we’re dealing with a forgotten palace here. How do you forget a palace? It’s easy to understand how a palace could fall down after a while. But I find it harder to comprehend it being forgotten entirely. Not only was it lost from the written record, but not so much as a legend survived.

Anyway, I think recreations like this are fun. Avaldsnes (under its old name, Augvaldsness) features heavily in the Erling book I’m writing, King of Rogaland. Also in the previous book, The Elder King, come to think of it. But that’s before the stone buildings existed.