Blogs, Socials, Music

Your Starting Word is Everything, Jazz Hope, and Manhood

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Yesterday, the socials were torn up with complaints about the Wordle word of the day. Wordle renews at midnight, and some people rush to solve it first. I usually play it in the middle day, and yesterday I happened to see the angst from other players ahead of time.

The word was parer. It’s not Merrium-Websters or Oxford, but it is the American Heritage. This is enough to inspire fulminating effusions of grief over how hard the game is or the loss of a win streak. It’s not even a real word, they say.

I did guess this word, perhaps because it’s one in another word game I play but perhaps because the perceived difficulty of a Wordle level depends on your starting word. You could go vowel heavy (audio, ideas, adieu) or consonant heavy (smart, plumb, track). You could attempt more common letters (scope, trace, broke).

I like word light (or sight, might, fight) because of the common letters. If H is eliminated, then CH and SH are too. If I is out, then AI, OI, EI are too.

But with a word like parer, if you approach it as PA_ER, then you can see the potential for angst. Is it paper, paver, pager? When you have a word like this, it’s good to attempt a word with three possible letters, like grave, so if all three out, you can attempt a fourth option, like the P if the R hadn’t been the answer.

I’m sure, as they say in the podcasts, nobody cares. Let’s move on.

Manhood: For the Church | Episode 177: Brant Hansen on The Men We Need. Here’s an enjoyable podcast ep. on a manhood book that may be more grounded than some of those you’ve heard about. Hansen, an “Avid Indoorsman,” appears to keep his advice within the bounds of Scripture and argue for flip-flops as a sign of failed masculinity.

True Crime: “Nothing But the Night takes readers back to 1924, when two students at the University of Chicago, Nathan Leopold and Richard Loeb, kidnapped a fourteen-year-old boy named Bobby Franks and callously killed him. When the crime came to trial, Leopold and Loeb were defended by the celebrity lawyer Clarence Darrow, whose passionate courtroom antics were read in newspapers and circulated like the latest radio drama.” (Get the book here)

Education: In the book Letters Along the Way, a young believer says he intends to go to Yale to help Christians gain academic respectability. The corresponding senior saint writes, “At the risk of sounding pedantic (though realizing I sometimes come across that way), I doubt very much that evangelicals are wise to pursue academic respectability. What we need is academic responsibility. There is a world of difference.”

Jazz: In the current issue of ByFaith (not yet online), there’s a conversation with jazz pianist William Edgar, who is also a professor at Westminster Theological Seminary. He says, “I used to be fairly pessimistic about the future of jazz, but then I listen to these guys like Jon Baptiste or the guitarist Kurt Rosenwinkel, and it’s the real thing. . . . it’s the theme of my book, ‘from deep misery to inextinguishable joy.’ You can’t take a shortcut to the joy, because it becomes happiness instead. You also can’t swell in the sin without becoming morbid. Jazz is that journey that goes from one place to the others.”

You can listen to Jon Baptiste with friends in this recording from 2020.

Photo: Fire Department, Columbus, Indiana. 1977. John Margolies Roadside America photograph archive (1972-2008), Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division.

Fiction, Reviews

‘Key Lime Blues,’ by Mike Jastrzebski

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First, a quibble. Although the cover blurb says Key Lime Blues is a “Wes Darling sailing mystery thriller,” the story really has little to do with sailing, though there is a little boat business along the way. The hero lives on a sailboat called the Rough Draft, which is the name, we’re informed on the Amazon page, of the author’s boat. But that’s a name that’s really only appropriate for a writer’s boat, not a private eye’s.

Wes Darling is a bartender in Key West, Florida. He fled to the Keys after quitting his job with the successful detective agency run by his mother. A bad case which ended in the death of a young girl left him traumatized, and he wants nothing more to do with investigations.

But then one of his mother’s operatives, an older man who was her boyfriend and Wes’ father figure, shows up shot to death on a nearby beach. Wes can’t refuse his mother’s request that he look into it, but he’s adamant he’s not coming back to the firm.

He discovers that the victim was in town looking for a client’s girlfriend, with whom he says he wants to reconcile. Only that’s a lie. The girlfriend is a six-foot, drop-dead gorgeous stripper called Destiny, and the client is a gangster who wants the diamonds Destiny stole from him. He’s also got a couple low-intelligence, twin-brother thugs in town searching for her, and Wes will divide his time between trying to protect Destiny from them, and trying to get the truth from Destiny. Much blood will be spilled – some of it Wes’ – before he solves the case.

In the wake of the last book I reviewed, also set in the Keys, I appreciated the lighter tone of Key Lime Blues. I think the intention was to write a humorous mystery (lots of yuks are gotten out of Wes Darling’s last name), but I didn’t find it all that funny.

And the plot didn’t make a lot of sense to me. This is one of those stories where most of the trouble could have been avoided if the hero had just leveled with the police in the first place. It’s explained that Wes doesn’t trust cops because of bad memories from his tragic case, but it’s still stupid behavior, and that diminishes my empathy.

The main villain is supposed to be a super-genius, but doesn’t seem that brilliant, just repeating unsuccessful tactics over and over, hoping they’ll work better this time.

Also, Wes suffers multiple head traumas, and in the honored (and unrealistic) tradition of hard-boiled private eyes, is back in action an hour later. In addition, the fight scenes weren’t very well written.

There was also a psychic who appeared legitimate, which I consider cheating in a mystery.

And finally, the ultimate resolution was morally unsatisfying to me.

So I didn’t really like Key Lime Blues very much. I don’t think I’ll continue with the series.

Authors, Uncategorized

Vulgar Swedish dwarfs

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An illustration by Gustaf Tenggren for “Grimm’s Fairy Tales” (1923)

I think it says a lot about my tremendous personal modesty that, on the rare occasions when I learn something I didn’t know about Scandinavian history and culture, I share it here in public, in front of our FBI surveillance team and everybody, instead of concealing it. And I did learn something new today, in the August issue of the Sons of Norway’s Viking Magazine.

Even better, there’s an Inkling connection. An adversarial connection, but a connection nonetheless.

C. S. Lewis wrote, in Surprised by Joy:, Chapter III

I fell deeply under the spell of Dwarfs—the old bright-hooded, snowy-bearded dwarfs we had in those days before Arthur Rackham sublimed, or Walt Disney vulgarized, the earthmen.

He wrote, further, in a 1939 letter to his friend A. K. Hamilton Jenkin, “Dwarfs ought to be ugly of course, but not in that way. And the dwarfs’ jazz party was pretty bad.”

Tolkien, it is reliably reported, rebuffed offers from Disney for film rights to the Lord of the Rings, based on similar feelings.

According to “The Art of Trolls,” an article by Rowdy Geirsson in the August Viking Magazine, the fault for this “vulgarization” of dwarfs lies solidly on the head of a Swedish artist, Gustaf Tenggren (1896-1970). Tenggren made his name as an artist in his native Sweden, becoming known for illustrations of fantastical subjects, becoming the featured artist for “Bland tomter och troll,” an annual publication devoted to fairy stories. In 1936 he went to work for Disney Studios, becoming their chief conceptual artist. It was in this capacity that he designed the characters for “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs,” as well as later productions like “Pinocchio,” “Fantasia” and “Bambi.”

Judging by his Swedish work (an example is posted above), I would guess that Lewis would have been equally displeased by Tenggren’s earlier dwarfs, considering them “sublimed” in the Rackham style. (Though Arthur Rackham was an artist whose Wagnerian work he cherished.)

There’s something in Lewis’ and Tolkien’s criticism, of course, and it’s grown more apparent with the years. Animation is subject to fashions over time. I believe I read somewhere that when “Snow White” first came out, critics admired Disney’s dwarfs but found the “human” characters rather bland. Today the human characters look far better than the dwarfs, who possess a rubbery quality that’s gone out of style. (I personally particularly dislike the works of Fleischer Studios. Except for Popeye. I likes me Popeye.)

It’s a rule that we Norwegians have understood for many centuries – you can never go wrong blaming the Swedes.

Fiction, Reviews

‘Tropical Freeze,’ by James W. Hall

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It was only after I’d purchased James W. Hall’s Tropical Freeze (got a deal on it) that I realized I’d already read the first book in this series (originally published in the late ‘80s), and didn’t much care for it. But having it at hand, I figured I’d give the series a second shot. Results: ambivalent.

Thorn (his only name) is a beach bum in Key Largo, Florida. He occupies his time making fishing lures and rebuilding his house, which got blown up in the last book. He gets a job offer from his friend Gaeton, who used to be an FBI agent. Now he works for Benny Cousins, another ex-FBI agent who runs a private security form. There’s a place there for Thorn, Gaeton says, if he wants it. Good money.

Thorn doesn’t want it. In fact, he takes an instant, intense dislike to Benny.

Then Gaeton disappears off the face of the earth. And Thorn falls for Darcy, Gaeton’s sister, who’s a weather girl in Miami. Darcy, in turn, is being stalked by a dim-bulb local bartender with delusions of Nashville stardom. Meanwhile, Benny Cousins is doing his best to make himself the most important man in Key Largo. And people who cross him have a way of vanishing mysteriously.

I wanted to like Tropical Freeze better than I did. The prose is really good – lines like “He was feeling sorry for Key Largo, for Florida, for North America. For men and women everywhere. For the race of lonely creatures that walked upright.” James W. Hall can turn a phrase (though he does have a problem with logical logistics, as when he has a guy carry three pistols in one hand).

But I found it impossible to like the characters in this book. The narrative forced us to spend considerable periods of time with sociopathic low-lifes, which always annoys me. But I didn’t even like the hero. I never had a sense of Thorn as a character. We’re told things about his background, but I never grasped him as a person.

And there’s was a pervading sense of gloom all through the story. I found it depressing.

Maybe you’ll like it better. Cautions for language and fairly explicit sexual situations.

Authors, Fiction, Publishing

An Undset day

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Above is the trailer for the 1995 Norwegian film production of Sigrid Undset’s Kristin Lavransdatter, directed by Liv Ullman. As you’ll see from the link, it’s prohibitively expensive on Amazon, so I don’t expect I’ll be getting it on DVD. I do have the VHS version, but my machine isn’t hooked up so I can’t watch it.

I was, frankly, not entirely happy with the movie version. Liv Ullman was probably the least suitable director in the world; wholly unsympathetic to the author’s intentions. One could come away from watching it with the impression that Kristin and Erlend lived happily ever after, precisely not the point of the exercise.

But Sigrid Undset is on my mind tonight, because I just got an article about her accepted by a journal. My first draft was returned for improvements, which is of course kind of a bummer, but we professionals soldier on. I sent in a second draft, and they told me my prose was so good that they could go ahead and publish it without running it through the usual editorial processing.

That’s what I like to hear.

Music, Religion

‘Amazing Grace’ for 250 Years

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Daniel Johnson writes about one of the most famous hymns throughout the world, 250 years old this year.

“Newton’s practice was to write hymns to be sung following his sermons. When he preached on 1 Chronicles 17:16 –17 in January 1773, he introduced his congregation to the hymn ‘Faith’s Review and Expectation’ (which was only later retitled ‘Amazing Grace’).

Newton wrote, “If the LORD whom I serve, has been pleased to favor me with that mediocrity of talent, which may qualify me for usefulness to the weak and poor of his flock, … I have reason to be satisfied.”

This hymn might have slipped into obscure, at least for a while, had it not been taken up by American revivalists and abolition movement, specifically Harriet Beecher Stowe.

Three verses of Newton’s “Amazing Grace” performed by Andrea Bocelli and Alison Krauss
Fiction, Reviews

‘Weird Tales from the Northern Seas,’ by Jonas Lie

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In the days of our forefathers, when there was nothing but wretched boats up in Nordland, and folks must needs buy fair winds by the sackful from the Gan-Finn, it was not safe to tack about in the open sea in wintry weather. In those days a fisherman never grew old. It was mostly womenfolk and children, and lame and halt, who were buried ashore.

I thought I was buying a collection of north Norwegian folk stories when I purchased (OK, it was free) Weird Tales of the Northern Seas, by Jonas Lie (considered one of the “four greats” of Norwegian literature in the National Romantic period, along with Ibsen, Bjørnstjerne Bjørnsson, and Alexander Kielland [whose writing retreat near Stavanger I visited this summer]). What I got was something somewhat different, and in some ways better. It certainly left its impression on this reader.

Jonas Lie wrote novels in the “realistic” style (I’ve never read any of them), but he didn’t mind incorporating a folk tale or two into them, as sort of psychological local color. He also assembled some collections of genuine folklore stories. It from both of these categories that the editor (and translator? I’m not sure) R. Nisbet Bain collected this volume in 1893.

These stories are grim. They mirror the attitudes of a culture that learned to eke a marginal existence from the cruel sea at the cost of perpetual danger and human tragedy. The monster that shows up most often here is the draug. The name refers to a kind of revenant in other parts of Norway, but in the north he was a sea-troll who had a head like a seal’s (or a lump of seaweed), who took ruthless, often long-delayed revenge on those who offended him. Most often the lesson of the story is that you will pay for your sins, and nothing can be done about it.

Probably the most famous of the stories is the first, “The Fisherman and the Draug,” which is exactly the sort of thing I just described. The one that impressed me most was the next, “Jack of Sjöholm and the Gan-Finn,” probably the weirdest of the collection. It shows the most obvious marks of literary craftsmanship, especially in its poetic, dream-like quality, and ends in an obscure manner that you never find in real folk tales.

But all in all, these stories are genuinely atmospheric and haunting. If you like this sort of thing, I recommend it. The translation isn’t bad – a little stilted, but that very likely echoes the original text. This was the 1890s, after all. The worst problem is that the footnotes at the end of each story aren’t linked, which creates a difficulty for non-Norwegian readers.

Music

Sunday Singing: My Soul’s Been Anchored

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“My Soul’s Been Anchored,” performed by Moses Hogan Chorale & Singers during the Moses Hogan Reunion Concert, 2013

This folk song is rare among hymnals, and the arrangement above comes from Moses Hogan (1957-2003). Not something we would sing together as a congregation, but we could sing along with the choir and have it stick in our ears for the week.

Refrain:
In the Lord, in the Lord,
My soul’s been anchored in the Lord;
In the Lord, in the Lord’
My soul’s been anchored in the Lord.

1 Before I’d stay in hell one day,
My soul’s been anchored in the Lord;
I’d sing and pray myself away,
My soul’s been anchored in the Lord, O Lord!
My soul’s been anchored in the Lord, O Lord!
My soul’s been anchored in the Lord. [Refrain]

2 I’m born of God, I know I am,
My soul’s been anchored in the Lord,
I’m purchased by the dying Lamb,
My soul’s been anchored in the Lord, O Lord!
My soul’s been anchored in the Lord, O Lord!
My soul’s been anchored in the Lord. [Refrain]

3 Going to shout and pray and never stop,
My soul’s been anchored in the Lord;
Until I reach the mountain top,
My soul’s been anchored in the Lord, O Lord!
My soul’s been anchored in the Lord, O Lord!
My soul’s been anchored in the Lord. [Refrain]

Authors, Blogs, Socials, Bookselling, Reading

The Queen Overwhelmed, Author Regrets, and Other Sad Things

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No matter where they are in the world, when someone refers to the Queen, they almost always mean Elizabeth II, by the Grace of God, of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland and of Her other Realms and Territories Queen, Head of the Commonwealth, Defender of the Faith.

This photo of the young queen hangs in Nottingham’s Council House (Lee Haywood/Flickr).

A photo from the coronation in June 1953 is in this BBC photo essay of her life.

C.S. Lewis watched Elizabeth’s coronation on TV and wrote this in a letter:

. . . the Queen herself appeared to be quite overwhelmed by the sacramental side of it. . . .

The pressing of that huge, heavy crown on that small, young head becomes a sort of symbol of the situation of humanity itself: humanity called by God to be his vice-regent and high priest on earth, yet feeling so inadequate. As if he said, “In my inexorable love I shall lay upon the dust that you are glories and dangers and responsibilities beyond your understanding.”

C.S. Lewis on the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II (via Mindy Belz)

Celebrities: “But over time, it seemed, the fallen leaders managed to accrue immense social power without true proximity. They cultivated an image of spiritual importance while distancing themselves from embodied, in-person means of knowing and being known.” Gina Dalfonzo reviews Celebrities for Jesus: How Personas, Platforms, and Profits Are Hurting the Church by Katelyn Beaty.

A Writer’s Regrets: A.N. Wilson, who has published over 40 novels and other books, has released a memoir. He “says that he cannot believe that the ‘young fogey’ of the 1970s and 1980s, dapper, elegantly suited, was him. He describes himself as thrustingly ambitious, full of himself and unfaithful not only to his wife but to his own better nature.”

Stolen Books: Joel Miller has a roundup of stolen book news, such as the Gospel manuscript that was taken during WWI and how Bibles were a common stolen good when he worked at a bookstore in California.

“Growing up, I often heard that the medieval church used to chain up Bibles so average people couldn’t read it. It’s a common myth. The reality is that illiteracy was the norm, average people had better things to do than read, and books were only chained to keep clerics, monks, and visiting scholars from stealing valuable property—or reading in the latrine.”

Religious History: “. . . the more you got to know the men, the more human did they become, for better or worse; you were more concerned to find out why they thought as they did than to prove it was wrong.”

Photo: 7-Up Building, Portland, Oregon. 1976. John Margolies Roadside America photograph archive (1972-2008), Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division.

Fiction, Reviews

‘Desperate Justice,’ by Dennis Carstens

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Dennis Carstens is not a very good prose stylist. His diction can be awkward, even confusing, and his punctuation is best described as whimsical. But I like his characters, he poses very challenging moral problems to the reader, and he’s not politically doctrinaire.

At the beginning of Desperate Justice, Minneapolis attorney Marc Kadella is enjoying an upswing in his business fortunes. His success in his last big case has brought in needed clients. But when a prominent local defense attorney asks him to come on to defend his client’s co-defendant in a linked case, Marc is suspicious. Still, he takes the job, and soon regrets it. He and his client have been set up to take a fall, and Judge Gordon Prentiss – whom we remember with distaste from the last book – does not hesitate to take his personal rancor out on Marc’s client, who goes to prison.

So Marc is astonished when Judge Prentiss is himself charged with murder, and asks for Marc to defend him. Marc has no objection to representing a guilty man (and Prentiss looks guilty as sin), but he considers him a complete sleazeball. Which, the reader soon learns, is entirely correct. Perhaps the man ought to go to prison on general principles.

Desperate Justice is a kind of a diffuse story, which heads off in several directions before bringing it all together in the end. But I very much enjoyed the ethical dilemmas raised. What does “presumption of innocence” really mean? How do you defend a man you despise? How do you respond when even the good guys lie to you?

Stories of moral ambivalence can be corrosive and depressing, if they’re done nihilistically. But the Marc Kadella books never fall into nihilism. They ask honest questions, leaving the reader to draw judgments.

The politics seem pretty moderate to me, but the very fact that Democrats in Minnesota get criticized at all (Republicans come in for it too) is a breath of fresh air.

Cautions for language, sexual situations, and themes of extreme perversion.