Authors, Publishing, Reading, Religion, Uncategorized

A day trip, and historical meditations

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I shall tell you the tale of my adventures last Friday. I was part of a group of members of the Georg Sverdrup Society, and we went to visit a seminary not our own.

I think I won’t mention the name of this seminary, though there’ll be enough clues to work it out, if anybody cares to. It is an impressive cluster of buildings on an impressive campus, with a  history going back to the 1870s. However, the church body it serves, which I generally refer to here as the Very Large Lutheran Church Body That Shall Remain Nameless, finds itself now unable to support the institution’s real estate, so the property is being sold. The seminary will continue, but in more modest quarters.

Because of this approaching change, our society president arranged a visit. It would allow us to view the buildings, the library (now being packed up) and the archives (soon to be packed up). We got to see a number of interesting items on display. Below is a copy of Martin Luther’s death mask, with matching hands (his right one swollen and cramped from much writing). Luther was a man who liked his carbohydrates:

There was also the legendary bust of Hans Nielsen Hauge, the Norwegian lay evangelist about whom I’ve written a lot on this blog. I had the pleasure of informing those present that this bust is not actually a portrait, but the product of an artist’s imagination, originally carved in wood for a ship’s figurehead.

Our guide was very cordial, so nobody mentioned the well-attested fact that seminary students have a tradition of holding a beer bash on Hauge’s birthday, with the bust present, in order to demonstrate their contempt for the man and his movement.

We also got to visit Old Muskego Church:

Old Muskego Church is often called the first Norwegian Lutheran church building in America. This is not true – I, for one, favor the Haugean church in Fox River, Illinois. But Old Muskego, which was moved here in 1904, is the oldest surviving one. A new location will have to be found for it. All our guide would tell us was that they were in negotiations about the matter. I have my suspicions, and I wish the project well. The old place deserves preservation.

We sang the old Scandinavian hymn, “Children of the Heav’nly Father” in harmony before we left.

Afterward we wove our way through circuitous highway repairs to Lakewood Cemetery, traditional resting place of Minneapolis’ great and good. There we visited the graves of Professors Georg Sverdrup and Sven Oftedal, the founders of the Lutheran Free Church. Our guys.

This outing got me thinking about our tradition, the Haugean movement, and its place in history.

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Fiction, Reviews

‘Cutler’s Bargain,’ by Colin Conway

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I think I’m done with Colin Conway’s John Cutler books.

I like author Conway’s 509 series, which is a sequence of police procedurals involving a rotating cast of Washington state cops. He’s also written a series about “the Flip-flop Detective,” which is supposed to be light in tone. The John Cutler books, on the other hand, are contemporary Noir. John Cutler’s world is grim and shadowed, full of betrayal and moral compromise. I thought things might lighten up as the character developed, but I’ve finally concluded that that’s not the intention.

In Cutler’s Bargain, book 5 in the series, John gets an offer from a client willing to pay well. She’s a wholesome-looking woman who grows marijuana in a cellar underneath a strip mall she owns. She had been keeping the operation secret, but now somebody has broken in through a window and tried (though they failed) to get downstairs into the “grow.” She wants to know who leaked the information.

John isn’t eager to get involved with illegal drugs (this book was written before legalization), but the problem is interesting and she promises to pay double. Meanwhile, a friend has asked John to talk to a boy and try to steer him away from gang involvement – something he approaches without much confidence.

Cutler’s Bargain kept my interest all through, but – as with all these books – the final result was disappointing. The story ends on a highly ambivalent note, with Cutler negotiating a resolution that merely balances one evil against another.

The writing is good (in spite of the misuse of the word “flaunt”), but I’m tired of the depressing endings. Your mileage may vary.

Fiction, Reviews

‘Cutler’s Friend,’ by Colin Conway

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I like Colin Conway as a writer. One of the things I like about his work is that he generally keeps the politics low-key.

That is not true, however, of Cutler’s Friend, the third volume in his John Cutler series. The author published those first three books early in the 2000s, and the era may be part of the problem. This book is (in my opinion) more suited to the zeitgeist of that decade than to the present.

At the beginning of Cutler’s Friend, John has stabilized his life somewhat. He is now a licensed private investigator in Spokane, and he has a regular girlfriend.

He gets a visit from Mike, his former partner on the Seattle police force. Mike has, John discovers, become a pretty nasty racist, largely because his wife Tina left him for a black professional athlete. John wouldn’t care to do a favor for Mike at this point, but it’s Tina who needs help. Her new husband has been murdered, and she’s been arrested for it. Mike wants John to prove she’s innocent.

As John begins the investigation, the job raises tension with his girlfriend Erika, who is black. She starts discussing racial issues with John, and distancing herself from him. He finally realizes that he has to choose between helping an innocent woman and keeping his girlfriend.

This book pushed all my buttons – negatively. It started with a scene where John is dealing with a guy in a wig and a dress, in which he keeps condemning himself for “prejudice” when he forgets to use “her” preferred pronouns. Then we go on to the scenes with Erika, where the point seems to be that, as a miserable white man, there’s nothing John is allowed to do but kneel in repentance and apologize forever.

This bothered me a lot. Because if that’s the way the races have to relate to one another, it will always be impossible for us love each other, or even to be friends. It’s a formula for eternal racial segregation. I have to believe there’s some better way.

If I weren’t already fond of the series, I’d have dropped it with Cutler’s Friend. But I’m reading on. People learn and grow, and I see no signs of this kind of self-conscious political correctness in Colin Conway’s later work.

Fiction, Reviews

‘The Weans,’ by Robert Nathan

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The currency of the Weans consisted of the grand, the fin, the buck, the bit, and the payola.

Ever read a book about archaeology, and wonder how accurate the scholars’ guesses, based on very partial information, are? Robert Nathan had fun with that question in his 1960 short novel, The Weans.

The idea of The Weans is that it’s a book written thousands of years in the future, about what archaeologists have learned in “the Salt Continent” (North America) based on meager findings from their archaeological digs.

Much of the humor rises from the archaeologists’ assumptions. Too many artifacts are assumed to have religious significance, for instance. The book also includes a number of puzzles for the reader, which said reader only figures out gradually (I may have missed a couple, I fear): we wonder why the Americans are known to history as “Weans.” Or why our capitol city is remembered as “Pound-Laundry.”

An amusing book. It contains one gag about underage sex that didn’t age well. But all in all, fun to read.

Fiction, Reviews

‘Cutler’s Chase,’ by Colin Conway

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“What?” I asked.

“You used to be a cop.”

“And?”

“You seem to hate them.”

“I don’t hate them.” I stood. “But I hate who I became while I was one of them. That’s a truth I will never escape.”

The second novel in Colin Conway’s John Cutler series is Cutler’s Chase. This book has him back in Spokane, where he’s working as a nightclub bouncer. He’s flirting with a woman who likes him, but he’s afraid to get close to her because he’s sure she’s bound to reject him in the end. And he’s found a friend in a guy in a neighboring apartment, a retired Marine.

There is a murder, and Cutler finds himself, uncharacteristically, taking on a responsibility – for the murder victim’s dog. He’s certain who the killer is, and he won’t listen to the decent detective who asks him to stand aside and let them do their job. He gets in a lot of fights. There’s a major plot twist at the end (which I have to say I saw coming).

But Cutler’s Chase was a good book, and not as dark as the first book in the series. I recommend it.

Bookselling, Fiction

A Skjalg Erlingsson story

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I hope you’ll be happy to learn that I’ve just published a story related to the Erling Skjalgsson saga. The Buried Farm is a tale about Erling’s son Skjalg, and deals with the lead-up to the ill-fated Norwegian invasion of England in 1066 under King Harald Hardrada.

I submitted this story to a proposed anthology of stories about the Battle of Stamford Bridge. The editors did not select it, but told me kindly that their reasons had to do with their chosen approach to the topic, and not with the quality of my wordsmithing.

So I figured my readers might like to read it as a stand-alone. It’ll only cost you a buck.

Fiction, Reviews

‘Bite Back,’ by George Prior

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Casey Stafford is the police detective hero of a series by George Prior. Bite Back is the third book in the series. Casey is a smart Los Angeles cop, distinguished by the nice suits he wears.

The assignment in this story is a high-profile murder. A female newspaper reporter has been stabbed to death. The killing was caught by a security camera, but the killer was wearing a motorcycle helmet and can’t be identified. The press is, naturally, paying close attention.

Casey and his woman partner check out the stories the victim has been working on, but she was mostly a human interest writer. However, when they discover she was looking into puppy mills and dog fighting, they follow that trail into a dark world of greed, cruelty, and Mexican mafia connections.

I’m not sure why I didn’t like Bite Back more than I did. Author Prior does a good job with characters and dialogue. Even his villains are faceted and human. The police procedural elements seem realistic. The story goes so far as to include a feel-good Boy and His Dog subplot (caution – there’s also a lot of very dark material about animal abuse).

But it all seemed to me kind of lightweight. That can’t be because I don’t like an optimistic detective, because I like Alan Lee’s upbeat stories very much. So I can’t reasonably defend giving this book a negative review, and I won’t. Bite Back was pretty good. You might enjoy it quite a lot, if you can handle the animal cruelty sections.

Non-fiction, Reviews

‘Crockett,’ by Buddy Levy

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Patience and compromise were two necessities for political success at the highest levels, and Crockett would never possess either.

I am, and will always be, I expect, fascinated by the American legend of “Davy” Crockett. The “Crockett Craze,” sparked by a three-episode series on Walt Disney’s television show, exploded on the scene just at the time when I was becoming aware of the world around me. The image of actor Fess Parker in his coonskin cap and buckskins remains etched on my mind. This memory I share with many other Baby Boomers. I think each of the several books I’ve read previously about Crockett’s life have been presented in the form of a sort of dialogue with my generation’s memories of that cultural moment.

But we Boomers are passing from the scene, and it’s time for a book that handles the life of Col. David Crockett, bear hunter and Tennessee congressman, more or less from scratch. Which is what Buddy Levy’s Crockett: The Real-Life Adventures of the Frontier Legend does. Disney does not appear on stage until the mop-up chapters at the end.

Viewed historically, the 1950s Crockett Craze was a second act. Crockett was America’s (perhaps the world’s) first celebrity in the modern sense – a person made famous by the media. A rising population of literate common people was hungry for a hero with whom they could identify. And Crockett, an unpolished, definitely not wealthy congressman from the ragged western edge of the republic, filled the bill perfectly. He had sufficient credentials as a wilderness hunter and army scout to provide the bare bones for a legend, and his rustic wit and braggadocio always made him good newspaper copy.

Author Levy has organized sometimes meager documentary evidence, presenting it along with Crockett’s own (generally pretty reliable) autobiography to recount the man’s story in a fascinating and sympathetic way. He believes (as some historians doubt) that Crockett was sincere in his opposition to Pres. Jackson’s removal of the Native American tribes – certainly prejudice (which sprang from cruel warfare on both sides) caused most of his fellow settlers to hate the tribes generally, but it’s also true that Crockett had fought alongside friendly Indians during the Creek War, and some of their race had saved his life on at least one occasion. (He does gloss over Crockett’s slave-holding, though). He affirms the traditional account of Crockett’s execution at the Alamo, though a footnote mentions that there are contrary views.

All in all, I found Crockett a very readable and fascinating account of a remarkable American life. I do recommend it.

Fiction, Reviews

‘Mr. Whittle and the Morning Star,’ by Robert Nathan

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What had he thought about at that age? – at eighteen, at nineteen? Life . . . . the leap of spirit, like a salmon bent upstream, the wish blown into the wind like dandelion seed . . . . the shaken heart, the running joy . . . . And what was he thinking about now?

Death.

Some Robert Nathan books are heavy on the fantasy. Others downplay that element, or omit it almost entirely. Mr. Whittle and the Morning Star is one of that latter group. It’s a literary story that borders on earth-bound fable.

The time is 1947. The war is over, but a consumer goods shortages persist. The thrill of victory has subsided, while everyone worries increasingly about the atomic bomb.

Robert Whittle, a mild-mannered college professor, is suddenly absolutely convinced that the world about to end. Very soon. He mentions this to his family, to his friends, to his classes. He states it flatly to a ladies’ group that has asked him for a lecture. The ladies are not pleased.

When his wife Amanda learns of this, she’s very upset. She’s been a good wife and mother. She appreciates her standing in the community. Why would Robert make them a laughingstock this way? Her distress leads her to seek comfort with their best friends, and she finds herself kissing the husband.

Robert happens to see that kiss. He rebounds into the arms of an attractive student – they see a movie together and kiss too. But he does not want this girl. He wants his marriage. For him, the world has indeed ended.

But has it?

The only fantasy element in Mr. Whittle and the Morning Star is a couple conversations Mr. Whittle has with God – but we understand this God to be just his own imagination of the deity. The novel seemed to me to be a sort of a thought exercise, a way of contemplating our lives and our mortality and the things we value most.

Mr. Whittle and the Morning Star does not leave us with a moral. But it’s an intriguing story.

Blogs, Socials, The Press

For your Spectation

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Photo credit: Paris Bilal. Unsplash license.

After a long hiatus, I am once again featured at The American Spectator. My essay, ‘Defending “Adequate” Humans Against AI,’ is found here.

There’s a whole realm of life that belongs to the Adequate. Good enough for the general public. That’s the realm where most of us live, and where skilled workers used to learn their crafts.

In the AI future, infinite goods will be produced, but who will buy those goods? Where will the consumer acquire purchasing power, when both manual and mental labor have been automated? At what point will our AI masters decide that the human being, like Ned Ludd the weaver or Lars the script translator, is a downward drag on the bottom line?