The Book of the Dun Cow, by Walter Wangerin

Despite all of the praise I heard for The Book of the Dun Cow, I still smirked through the first few chapters. It has a great setup for a terrible challenge to the earth, even the galaxy, but the characters are farm animals. How terrifying can a story get with a proud rooster for a leading man? But then if I understood myself properly in relation to the God of heaven and earth and the fatally wounded enemy who still plots our defeat, I may think of mankind in the same way–mere animals standing between the Almighty and the Lord of the Flies.

Let me briefly give you the plot. Chauntecleer, the rooster, is lord over a patch of farmland, field, and forest. He is king and cleric to the animals who live there, crowing canonical blessings throughout the day to give their lives order and spiritual purpose. Far away, another farm and another rooster have slacked off holding the order of the day, giving a profound and powerful evil an opportunity to fight for its freedom. The animals are called Wyrm’s Keepers, though I doubt they would recognize the label. By keeping their proper order, they unknowingly keep the evil Wyrm imprisoned, so when one farm has grown tired of the cares of the world, Wyrm exploits his opportunity. Gradually, you might say, all of something breaks loose.

I love most in this story the animals leaning on their daily order, their time-honored tradition. It gave their dirt-scratching, grub-hunting, cleaning, and sleeping greater meaning and consequently greater peace. From Lauds to Compline, Chauntecleer crows through the day, usually because that’s how its done, but when their world become overcast with troubling clouds, he crows to bless those creatures he cares for. In a somewhat comical way, it’s glorious.

And there’s a good bit of comedy throughout the book too. John Wesley Weasel and Mundo Cani Dog are hilarious in their own way as is the rooster’s obnoxious pride.

I have to wonder how much of this fantasy is reality. How much or what kind of grace does the Lord give us through liturgy and the mental transformation he calls us to by meditating on his precepts throughout the day? What is robbed from us when we think of our lives and world in secular terms, when we see the planet instead of creation, when we look into space instead of the heavens? Would we keep the evil imprisoned a little more if we gave ourselves and our families lauds and vespers?

News about buried old stuff



Avaldsnes Church

Today’s stop on the Virtual Book Tour is this interview at Fodder For Fiction. I think it’s a good one; maybe I bared my soul a little too much.

Sorry to go back to Viking news, but it’s all I’ve got today, and this is big stuff in my strange little world. This news item was recently published by the website forskning.no (“forskning” means research). The article is in Norwegian, but my translation follows:

During the summer of 2006 post holes from the Viking Age were found at Avaldsnes, near Karmsund.

In November of that year discoveries indicated that what had been found was the royal farm of King Harald Finehair.

But it took several years before the all clear for excavation came on Thursday, says Haugesunds Avis.

“The answer was the one we’d been hoping for. As I understand the response of the national antiquities authority, there will now be excavations, beginning next May. There are a number of conditions the antiquities authorities indicate, but I believe we can say that we have the go-ahead for excavations,” says project chief Dagfinn Skree, a professor at the University of Oslo.

National antiquarian Jørn Holme is also enthusiastic about the project getting under way.

“This is one of the most important projects we have in this country. At the same time I believe and hope that it will be an important event for the people of Karmøy and Haugesund,” says Holme.

The first thing that occurs to me on reading the above is that bureaucracies are the same everywhere. It would appear (unless my translation is way off) that the archaeologists got a reply from the government that seems to say they can go ahead, but they’re not entirely sure.

For those of you who missed your Norwegian history classes, King Harald Finehair (or Fairhair, depending on the translator) is the monarch traditionally credited with beginning the consolidation of Norway as a unified kingdom. Like all Viking kings, he lived a roving life, moving from one royal farm to another, at locations scattered strategically around the country. But his chief residence was Avaldsnes on Karmøy, near present-day Haugesund. This interests me particularly because my great-grandfather was baptized in Avaldsnes church, and several of my ancestors are buried there.

In related news, during the International Vinland Seminar in Chicago I met a gentleman from Stavanger who recently got funding to begin a general survey of Hafrsfjord (a body of water you will know about if you’ve read my Erling books. If you haven’t, do it now. I’ll wait). Hafrsfjord is the only Viking Age sea battle we can actually locate geographically with any precision, but nobody has ever looked for artifacts on the fjord bottom. Once they find something (assuming they do), they’ll have to evaluate whether to bring it up, or to leave it undisturbed in situ. It all depends on the condition of what they may find, and how much money they have to spend.

Williams Fired by NPR for "Crossing the Line"

“My Fox News Sunday colleague Juan Williams has been fired by NPR for telling an inconvenient truth,” writes Bill Kristol on The Weekly Standard’s blog this morning. Apparently, NPR’s high and mighty can’t allow their people to express certain emotions or honest fears. Perhaps certain entire topics cannot be touched on.

Here, Mr. Williams describes what he thought and how he was fired for it over the phone.

Update: For a liberal take on this story, see Gawker. Max Read writes: “‘I mean, look, Bill, I’m not a bigot,’ he told O’Reilly, and you knew it was going to be good, because who says that unless they are about to say something racist.” Help us.

Cane and dis-Abled

Wooden canes

Today, I got my first old geezer’s perk, as a result of using my cane. I stopped for a couple things at my local bag-it-yourself grocery store. Without asking (I certainly wouldn’t have asked) the checkout lady bagged my few items for me. I can only assume it was a gesture of courtesy for the infirm.

I learned about cane technique last night, when I talked to my brother Moloch on the phone. He used to be a nurse once upon a time, and he told me there’s a right way to do this thing. I, needless to say, was doing it wrong.

Most people, he said, naturally assume you hold the cane in the hand on the same side as the leg you’re favoring. Bad left leg–use left hand. This is what I was doing. This is wrong.

Instead, you use the opposite hand. This technique has two benefits. One, it provides a broader base of support for your body weight, making a fall less likely. Two, it allows you to swing your arms in the natural fashion.

I tried it. He’s right.

I hate it when that happens.

One of my very favorite authors, Stephen Hunter, wrote this fascinating and (it seems to me) extremely insightful article on the movie-generated myth of Bonnie and Clyde in an article for Commentary back in 2009. Why The Culture Alliance linked to it today I have no idea, but it’s worth reading.

But taken together they make a point. That point is that the legendary Penn movie that invented the New Bonnie and Clyde was such a ideological crock that it deserves placement in that list of other leftist crocks mistaken by gullible critics and film lovers as somehow great: Beatty’s own Reds, the appalling JFK, and the toxic oeuvre of Michael Moore and his tribe of screwball clones in the documentary field, as well as the recent spate of angry, misguided Iraq war films.

My latest stop on the Virtual Book Tour is this interview at The Writer’s Life. Another interview less truncated than some I’ve done. I appreciate it.

Nook, Kindle, Reader Finding Audiences

Readers are catching on with book lovers. One woman says her iPod with a Kindle app is “so much easier to carry than a regular book.” She’s reading much more than she used to because it’s so much easier get the books. USA Today cites Forrester to say 4 million of us have e-book readers already, and 29 million will likely have them in 5 years. (via Literary Saloon)

"There Is No Place Where God Is Not."

Charles Spurgeon writes about Psalm 8.

The solid fabric of the universe leans upon his eternal arm. Universally is he present, and everywhere is his name excellent. God worketh ever and everywhere. There is no place where God is not. The miracles of his power await us on all sides. Traverse the silent valleys where the rocks enclose you on either side, rising like the battlements of heaven till you can see but a strip of the blue sky far overhead; you may be the only traveler who has passed through that glen; the bird may start up affrighted, and the moss may tremble beneath the first tread of human foot; but God is there in a thousand wonders, upholding yon rocky barriers, filling the flowercups with their perfume, and refreshing the lonely pines with the breath of his mouth. Descend, if you will, into the lowest depths of the ocean. where undisturbed the water sleeps, and the very sand is motionless in unbroken quiet, but the glory of the Lord is there, revealing its excellence in the silent palace of the sea. Borrow the wings of the morning and fly to the uttermost parts of the sea, but God is there. Mount to the highest heaven, or dive into the deepest hell, and God is in both hymned in everlasting song, or justified in terrible vengeance. Everywhere, and in every place, God dwells and is manifestly at work. Nor on earth alone is Jehovah extolled, for his brightness shines forth in the firmament above the earth. His glory exceeds the glory of the starry heavens; above the region of the stars he hath set fast his everlasting throne, and there he dwells in light ineffable. Let us adore him “who alone spreadeth out the heavens, and treadeth upon the waves of the sea; who maketh Arcturus, Orion, and Pleiades, and the chambers of the south.” (Job 9:8, 9.)

Hand me down my walking cane

Back to work, back to the regular schedule today. This is good. I’ll go no more a-roving so late into the night, at least for a while.

I’m learning the uses of a cane. It’s a bloody nuisance, for the most part. It would be handy to have one of those with a hooked handle that I could hang over my arm when I need both hands, but this one (like most contemporary models) has a mostly horizontal one. Makes a better grip that way, I guess, but tucking your cane under your arm isn’t nearly as neat a move in real life as in the movies. The thing has a way of poking things, and people.



I’ve got a link for yesterday’s stop on the Virtual Book Tour
here (It’s the Virginia Beach Examiner. I get a little more print there than in the minimal treatment most of my interviews have been cut down to so far.) Today is a guest post at a blog called Authors and Appetizers. I’m kind of proud of this one, because I hadn’t the faintest idea what I’d write when the publicist pointed me there and told me to say something about food. I think what I finally produced isn’t half bad.



Here’s a scene
I expect is going to be played out soon (if it hasn’t been already) in the offices of the leadership of a major political party.

Chairperson: “So we’re all agreed, we’re going to put all our influence behind the Goodness Act.”

Junior Senator: “What’s the Goodness Act?”

Vice Chairperson: “That’s the law that outlaws all evil, and requires everybody to be good.”

Junior Senator: “Is that constitutional?”

Vice Chairperson: “Are you saying you’re in favor of evil?”

Junior Senator: “No, no. I’m sure it must be constitutional. You’re right. Forget I said anything.”

Congressman From Eastern State: “Wait a minute. I’m a Satanist. We believe in evil. Our only law is do as thou wilt. Are you trying to infringe my right to construct my own personal code of morality?”

Chairperson: “No, no. We’ll carve out a religious exception.”

Congressman From Eastern State: “Well, I’m still a little offended. Better fund that new highway for my state while you’re at it, and I’ll feel better.”

Vice Chairperson: “No problem.”

Congressman From Western State: “Hey, what about me? I’ve got a large sociopathic constituency in my district. What am I gonna tell them?”

Chairperson: “Don’t worry about it. By the time this bill is done, nobody’ll have a clue what’s in it. It’ll tie up the courts for years.”

Congressman From Western State: “Great! The sociopaths and the lawyers will both love it!”

Vice Chairperson: “You’re repeating yourself. I like that.”

International Vinland Seminar, Part 3

On Sunday morning we didn’t have to meet until 10:30, which was a gift more precious than gold to my battered body. It was also Sunday morning that I stopped at Walgreens and, bowing at last to the inevitable, purchased a cane. I’ve been having trouble with my left knee for about a week (I saw my doctor today, and she says it’s arthritis, possibly treatable with anti-inflammatories). The morning’s rest helped the leg, and also, incidentally, with another problem I had, that of of lack of sleep.

We met at the Norwegian Memorial Church in Chicago (Minnekirken). It was a gorgeous fall morning, and I wish I’d thought to take a picture of the building. The service consisted of a Norwegian liturgy and hymns, with the sermon in English. You know how I feel about mainline Lutheranism, but I found nothing whatever in the service to offend even my hypersensitivity. It was delightful to go through the readings and responses in Norwegian, and to sing the Norwegian hymns (most of which were unfamiliar). All in all, it was the most fun I’ve had in church in years. Continue reading International Vinland Seminar, Part 3