Here are a couple holiday ideas for you to consider when you can get a moment’s peace tonight.
Professor Collin Garbarino notes the connection Halloween has to Celtic paganism is largely, if not entirely, speculation. “The Celts didn’t write stuff down, and the Romans who did write stuff down didn’t give us much reliable information about the Celts or their religion.” But we do have a solid record of All Hallow’s Eve and All Saints’ Day.
The Protestant Reformation had political ramifications as well as religious ones, notes Professor Adam Carrington. Sola Scriptura supported the rule of the written law and public education so everyone could read the Bible for themselves. “The equality of human beings before God naturally bolstered ideas of human equality in the political realm. This enhanced arguments that the people should be the ultimate human authority since no person was born, or otherwise made by God, superior to another.”
Stay safe out there.
And also this artwork of Nazgul by Anato Finnstark.
“Come back! Come back!” they called. “To Mordor we will take you!” #Nazgul#LOTR#Tolkien
“I Know That My Redeemer Lives–Glory, Hallelujah!” performed by ChurchFolk Project of Weaton College
You may know this hymn by another arrangement and more words. Samuel Medley wrote the words in 1775, and an uncredited someone paired it with a new refrain and this American folk melody. It’s a strong, foot-stomping song that can get a body going.
1 I know that my Redeemer lives– glory, hallelujah! What comfort this sweet sentence gives– glory, hallelujah!
Refrain: Shout on, pray on, we’re gaining ground– glory, hallelujah! The dead’s alive and the lost is found– glory, hallelujah!
2 He lives, he lives, who once was dead– glory, hallelujah! He lives, my everlasting Head– glory, hallelujah! [Refrain]
3 He lives, to bless me with his love– glory, hallelujah! He lives to plead for me above– glory, hallelujah! [Refrain]
4 He lives, all glory to his name!- glory, hallelujah! He lives, my Jesus, still the same- glory, hallelujah! [Refrain]
Religious Liberty: A new book by Norte Dame political scientist Vincent Phillip Muñoz “provides one of the best treatments we have on the meaning of the religion clauses” focusing on the debates held in each state “about establishments and religious freedom. . . . These debates, and the views of a spectrum of Founders, allow Muñoz to craft a convincing argument. He contends that the founding generation’s concept of religious liberty was rooted, first and foremost, in natural law and inalienable natural rights.”
Science Fiction: Disney now has creative input into the BBC’s Doctor Who series, boasting it with financial support. I loved the classic series growing up. I watched every episode broadcast on PBS from Jon Pertwee’s run (#3), Tom Baker’s (#4 and still the best ever), Peter Davidson’s (#5), and Colin Baker’s (#6). I may have watched all the episodes with Sylvester McCoy, but the show lost its appeal for me during that time. Recently, I watched the new season 5 and part of 6 with Matt Smith, who is great as a title character, but over half of the stories were so much nonsense, I lost interest again.
Book Banning: At least 520 Penguin Random House staff and connections are arguing that Justice Amy Coney Barrett’s book contract be cancelled. They don’t oppose free speech, they write. They aren’t calling for censorship. “Rather, this is a case where a corporation has privately funded the destruction of human rights with obscene profits.”
Photo: Tivoli Theater, Stephenson, Michigan. 1980. John Margolies Roadside America photograph archive (1972-2008), Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division.
The narrow stairs creaked a little, but they were carpeted now. It hardly seemed like the same house. The chilly bareness of the disused top floor had gone, replaced by the smell of someone else’s children, like cheese rinds and warm flowers.
When you pick up books by unfamiliar authors based on online deals, as I do, you read a lot of pretty amateurish prose. As you may have noticed, I do a fair number of negative reviews here.
But now and then you find a gem. John Barlow’s Right to Kill is a superior novel, worthy to stand proudly in any genre.
Detective Sergeant Joe Romano is a cop in Leeds, North Yorkshire. Once a promising officer, he got his career stalled during a stint in Interpol, and now he’s back in Leeds, reduced to missing persons cases, no promotions in sight.
When a mother calls in to report her son, Craig Shaw, missing, no one is very concerned. First of all, Craig is legally an adult. Secondly, he’s a known drug dealer, no loss to anybody but his distraught mother. But Joe has principles about these things. He investigates seriously.
When Craig turns up dead, bizarrely murdered by a pencil in the eye, the cops have to take it seriously. But there’s still not much enthusiasm. The working theory, as we’re repeatedly reminded, is that some people just don’t rate the effort. The formula is 1-66 – that one person out of every 66 causes all the trouble in the world, and we’re better off without them.
But Joe can’t get Craig’s mother’s grief out of his mind. And when a second pencil murder is discovered, the media start paying attention. Too much attention, from Joe’s point of view, as his picture goes viral on Whatsapp in an embarrassing context. Soon he’s off the case, on the edge of dismissal.
And still he won’t give up. He’s no super-cop. He makes mistakes and pays for them. And in the end he’ll pay a high personal price for imperfect justice.
John Barlow is an excellent writer, a genuine wordsmith. It’s a delight to read his prose. On top of that he’s very good with characters, finding the hearts of even the worst offenders.
I had some problems with the story on a personal level, though it could have been much worse (and would have been in the hands of a less professional author). Social issues come up constantly, and we deal with some right-wing groups and characters. Although the author does a pretty good job humanizing people he disagrees with, he can’t shake the liberal (I assume he’s a liberal) conviction that all conservatives must be racists. He does his best to be fair to the racists, though.
Some statements surprised me along the way, though they probably shouldn’t have. He speaks of the famous English grooming gangs as if they were no big deal – something only a racist would worry about. Jordan Peterson is spoken of as obviously some kind of fascist. Joe finds it hard to comprehend a statement that there are things we’re not allowed to say anymore. (Maybe he’s just too young to remember.)
But he has clearly made an effort to play fair. And mostly it works.
Highly recommended. Cautions for language and stuff.
We know from the Bible that a prophet is never honored in his own country. By that standard, I definitely don’t qualify as a prophet. Because my talk last night in my home town (Kenyon, Minnesota, in case you missed it) went extremely well and was warmly received.
I gave a PowerPoint travelogue on my trip to Norway this summer, with a concentration on historical sights. Personally I think I went a little long, and some later alterations to the script came in ragged. But everybody seemed pleased and entertained, and my book sales were gratifying.
So, many thanks to the Kenyon Vikings Sons of Norway lodge.
I was looking for a video about the Battle of Hafrsfjord for tonight’s post, but everything I found was longer than I wanted. But the film above is interesting. It’s not about Hafrsfjord, but about the Battle of Nesjar (1016), which I described in my novel, The Elder King. Erling Skjalgsson gets a mention.
The theme of my life just now seems to be homecoming. I went back to the first college I attended last weekend. And tonight I’m going to my home town, Kenyon, Minnesota, to speak to the Sons of Norway lodge (and hopefully sell some books).
I’m not lecturing in Viking costume this time. I’ll be giving a presentation on my trip to Norway this summer, emphasizing the historical sites I visited. I’ll concentrate especially on the battle of Hafrsfjord.
On the unlikely chance that you can be there (I should have announced this yesterday or earlier) the meeting will be held at First Lutheran Church in Kenyon at 5:30 p.m.
In this issue, A. Trevor Sutton writes on our physical bodies in the act of worship and the problems a digitally limited, merely mental congregation can cause.
The feet, mouths, ears, hands, eyes, and hearts make it clear: Worship and the wonder of the human body come together in Luke’s Gospel. . . . The resurrection of Jesus forever altered our understanding of the human body and the way that our bodies respond in worship. Because the Divine Physician is risen, our organs cannot remain silent—they cry out in worship with hope and rejoicing.
When a free (or cheap) British mystery, in a series new to me, shows up, I’m inclined to give them a try. I like the settings, and sometimes the books can be good.
Made a Killing by Zach Abrams had some things going for it, but ultimately I wasn’t pleased.
DCI Alex Warren of the Glasgow police goes to view a grisly crime scene. Scott Stevenson, a local antique dealer with a bad reputation, has been stabbed to death with a bizarre weapon – a carved elephant tusk. Nobody, except for the victim’s old mother, is mourning him. The man was widely hated, and Alex has personal knowledge of his deceiving and defrauding numerous people.
But murder is murder, and when potential witnesses start dying by stabbing soon after, the investigation ramps up. Meanwhile, Alex is also increasingly aware of the sexual interest of an attractive co-worker.
The story was all right, the setting interesting. But I did figure out the culprit before the end. And Alex’s affair with a colleague struck me as professionally dubious.
But most annoying was a writing problem, dangling modifiers. Sentences like, “Being the weekend, it could take time…” and “Although cold and dark, they found a bench to sit on…” appear again and again. There were other problems with diction too, like, “The flat itself comprised of an entrance hallway….” And “She bade them to sit on the couch….”
One of the most outstanding figures of the Dark Ages was St Adomnan. Much more than merely the biographer of St Columba, he was a politician and intellectual of considerable power. Perhaps his most notable initiative was the Law of the Innocents. At the Synod of Birr in central Ireland held in 697, he proposed that women, children and clergy be protected from the brutal realities of Dark Ages warfare. Nothing else like it had been promulgated in Europe.
I bought Alistair Moffat’sThe Faded Map on a sort of a whim. It’s not directly related to my central interests, but it seemed intriguing, and it relates to all that Arthurian stuff I’ve always been drawn to. And I’ve got to say, the book proved to be more than I hoped. Fascinating stuff, and written in a lively style.
“The principal focus of this book is failure,” the author writes. The subject is what we currently know as lowland Scotland and northern England, which until the early medieval period was generally occupied and ruled by British Gaels related to the Welsh. Threatened by Picts and Scots from the north, Anglo-Saxons from the south and east, and eventually Vikings (though they made shifting alliances with all these groups as circumstances dictated), these kingdoms were gradually pushed back and subsumed, so that their southern territories became parts of British Northumbria and their northern territories parts of Scotland.
The story is a fascinating one (at least to me), as it touches on much legendary material, and provides perspective on the Viking Age at the end. I was particularly gratified that the author entirely subscribes to the historical view endorsed by Prof. Titlestad in his (wonderfully translated) book, Viking Legacy, that ancient legend and poetry ought to be considered (cautiously) by historians:
But why should word of mouth be more untrustworthy than a written source? Who would rely on the British tabloid newspapers of the last thirty years as an honest record of anything? The bards of the fifth, sixth, and seventh centuries are to be trusted no less – and no more – than the scribes of the same period.
In short, I found The Faded Map a delight to read. Highly recommended.
Salvesen Hall at Waldorf University. In my day, the library was on the ground floor at the left end, and in the cellar below.
So I did it. I went back to the college of which (out of the three I attended) I have the fondest memories, Waldorf College (now University) in Forest City, Iowa. It was Homecoming weekend, and they had an “authors’ fair” featuring four published authors who’d attended the school. I was the oldest of the lot, the Historical Footnote, you might say.
It turned out to be a fairly small affair, with maybe thirty people in attendance. The venue was a room in the new library (which looked pretty swanky to an old book gnome who used to toil in the former digs in the cellar of Salvesen Hall). We sat at a table at the front, and each of us got to do a 15-minute reading. Then there was a general Q&A session, and a time for bookselling. I read Chapter 15 of The Year of the Warrior, where Erling Skjalgsson meets Olaf Trygvesson as their ice-covered ships pass in the Boknafjord.
Two of my fellow authors were quite young, the third middle-aged but a recent graduate of the school’s Creative Writing program. That put me in the odd (to me) position of being the Grizzled Professional. A lot of the questions were directed to me as the one with the most experience of the publishing business. Although – as I took pains to point out – most of my experience is from another age and no longer applicable, except in spirit.
I hope I didn’t act like too much of an ass. Everybody was nice to me, but this is Iowa so that tells you nothing.
I sold a fair number of books for the size of the crowd, and received a handsome purple insulated cup with the school logo, from which I am drinking now, as a gift. Also an alumni sticker for my car.
The weather was glorious – bright sun and temperatures in the upper 70s, very clement for Iowa in late October. I hadn’t been back to Waldorf for decades (Christiania College in Wolf Time was modeled on it), and I was a little disoriented. First of all, the place looks smaller now than it did when I was 18. And they’ve changed a fair number of things. New buildings have been built, a reflecting pool has been dug by the Campus Center, and I had some trouble at first getting my bearings. Also, certain things are gone now, such as the World War II-era temporary classrooms where I studied Norwegian (I think I parked in that space, though I may be a few yards off).
I wanted to take time to do a walk-around, but didn’t get around to it. And it doesn’t really matter – it’s not the same school. It’s owned by new people and has a whole different mission. I came as the Ghost of Christmas Past, and I exited stage right when my scene was done.
