The Washington Post thinks it is. Steven Levingston, senior editor of Book World, states Glenn Beck’s purpose for The Overton Window
A book for terrorists. Really?
In related stories on Beck’s novel, Newsweek’s reviewer only read ten pages and talks about another book in the article.
As you’ll note from the comments on my last post, Dr. Hunter Baker (fiend in human shape that he is) heartlessly refuses to engage in a public exchange of insults with me, appealing, apparently, to some principle of non-retaliation or something. Thus am I stymied in my ploy to try to raise interest in my books through a blog feud.
I need to find somebody to fight with. Somebody who’s actually a published author, but not so venerable (like Dr. Gene Edward Veith) that my insulting him would seem impertinent. As my mama always told me, “Keep your hair combed, wear clean underwear, and always be pertinent.” Continue reading Of conflicts and critics
Yesterday, those who care, who give a rip, who find interest in James Joyce’s novel Ulysses (or perhaps just want another excuse to drink beer), did something or other to celebrate Bloomsday, June 16. For your literary edification, The Daily Beast has a run down of novels from various countries which have been called the Ulysses of that county. (via Literary Saloon)
In related news, Apple will not allow a webcomic version of Ulysses to be on its iPad product because of “frank nudity,” to quote the co-illustrator, Rob Berry. Though it wasn’t illustrated, Joyce’s novel was banned from the U.S. when it was released in 1920. Several years later, Random House staged a customs incident to get the courts to review the ban, and judges released it for print in 1934.
My mortal enemy, the unspeakable Hunter Baker (don’t buy his book) relates a positive experience with colleagues in his new teaching gig, over at his blog.
A female colleague in the sciences opened our discourse by asking the philosopher, “Why did you find this author’s argument either intereresting or persuasive?” She quickly followed that by adding, “Because I didn’t.” In many circles, her question and comment would set up a quick ending to the discussion. Instead, she merely piqued our interest as the philosopher patiently explained his choice and his opinion. Soon, we were well down the road in trying to find some common ground. Before I knew it, over two hours had passed.
Maybe there’s hope for the nation after all.
The next The Chronicles of Narnia movie is coming: The Voyage of the Dawn Treader
Stefan Kanfer has a fascinating article over at City Journal about a man who has always been (in an ambivalent sort of way) one of my personal heroes—the cartoonist Al Capp, creator of Li’l Abner (thanks to Daniel Crandall of The American Culture for the tip).
Back in its heyday, during the Great Depression, World War II, and the Fifties, Li’l Abner occupied a place in the American consciousness for which it’s hard to find an analog in today’s world. Back then everybody—except members of the most extreme religious communities—read the daily comics. Comic strips were what network TV used to be (but also is no more). If there were a page on the internet that everybody in the country visited every day, that would be something like what Li’l Abner was back then. When Abner finally gave up his fight to remain a bachelor and married Daisy Mae, the nation rejoiced (or grieved, depending on their point of view). Continue reading No feather in his Capp
The legend of Saint Julian the Hospitaller seems to have risen in the Middle Ages, and is today considered entirely folklore. Possibly inspired by the story of Oedipus, it tells of a young man of noble family cursed to commit an appalling, shameful crime. As with Oedipus, his very efforts to make the crime impossible actually bring it about, but Christians added the element of redemption, a demonstration that no crime is beyond the mercy of God.
Author and clergyman Walter Wangerin Jr. has written Saint Julian
Medieval Christians believed that Julian lived at the beginning of the Christian era, but Wangerin places it in the epoch that produced it—somewhere in the Middle Ages, apparently during the Crusades. His book combines the classic style of the hagiographical tale with the allegory of Pilgrim’s Progress. Julian is a sort of Everyman, or Everychristian. Born to many advantages, blessed with physical beauty and rich natural gifts, he falls—almost innocently, one might say—into the sin of pride, seeing no need to curb his desires. His immoderation leads to a great sin, which brings upon him the curse of the tale. And when he commits his crime, it is again because of his intemperance. What follows is a long journey to discover the miracle of grace, a journey in which God is always guiding, generally unseen, along hard and painful roads.
Saint Julian lacks the emotional peaks and valleys that broke so many of our hearts in Wangerin’s greatest novel, the delightful The Book of the Dun Cow. In his attempt to mimic the style of medieval chroniclers, the author starts the book slowly, and probably loses a lot of readers along the way. The very universality of his themes tends to make the characters one-dimensional, like figures in a Gothic church painting.
Fans of Wangerin will enjoy Saint Julian, but not consider it his finest work. Those new to him would do best to start with The Book of the Dun Cow.
Mrs. Yates’ 3rd Grade Class Receives A New Message From Space, a funny monologue from Christian Lynch.
Poet Natalie Merchant talks poetry and receives praise in this four part video.
A few thoughts on how can Christians appreciate non-Christian art