I am currently reading two books- MAYFLOWER, by Nathaniel Philbrick, which is a history of New England, from the time of the Mayflower’s settlement until the end of the 17th century, and SHOPPING FOR PORCUPINE, by Seth Kantner, which is a memoir of his growing up in the arctic.
Most of this post will be about something I read this morning in MAYFLOWER, but I have noticed at least one similarity between the two books.
MAYFLOWER talks about how the Indians recognized almost at once the large number of possessions the English had, and began craving most of those things themselves. The English took advantage of this as away of encouraging trade- they wanted to but furs to ship to England, and they wanted to buy land for their growing population.
In particular, the Indians craved flintlock guns. The pilgrims brought with them matchlock guns, which were an earlier technology. Most Indians could actually shoot arrows faster, more accurately, and more scrumptiously, than the English could fire their matchlocks. But the Indians recognized a superior weapon in flintlocks, and the English were glad to sell them so they could get more fur.
But within a few decades the fur bearing animals were almost gone from New England, and when they were the Indians had lost much of their sustainability on the land. They still farmed, but they had sold much of their land in order to buy the English things they admired.
The connection with SHOPPING FOR PORCUPINES is that Kantner, a Caucasian, states that in Alaska the natives likewise were eager to acquire material things, even many things that did not contribute to making a living in the arctic (such as snowmobiles, boats and guns). While Kantner grew up in an igloo and leaned many of the native ways of living, most of his native neighbors were quick to give up the practices that had sustained them for millennium.
The remainder of my comments here refers to a particular narrative in MAYFLOWER.
The book is well-written and easily holds the reader’s interest. Philbrick offers many insights into the fluid nature of the relationship between the Puritans and the Indians. The pages I read this morning dealt with an incident in the so-called “King Philip’s War,” 1675-76.
In February of 1676 two-thousand Indians were fleeing north to reconnoiter with another group of Indians, to take refuge, and to evade a troop of 600 English Cavalry. Philbrick says, “It was a scene worthy of Exodus.” His facts are based on an account written by one of their captives, Mary Rowlandson, a minister’s wife.
“Keeping two thousand Native men, women, and children ahead of a mounted English army might seem out of the question. But as Mary Rowlandson witnessed firsthand, the Indians knowledge of the land and their talent for working cooperatively under extraordinary duress made them more than a match for the fleetest of English forces.” (p. 293)
Rowlandson’s account tells how they crossed a swollen icy river by building rafts and then piling the rafts high with brush so that most crossed without ever getting so much as a foot wet.
In fact, Philbrick reports that when the Puritans arrived at the river, they were afraid to cross and pursued the Indians no further (as perhaps Pharaoh’s army would have been wise to decide in the original Exodus!)
One more element reminded me of the Exodus, in particular the account of manna in the desert:
“It was the third week of her captivity, and Rowlandson’s hunger was such that she greedily ate what she had earlier regarded as “filthy trash,” form groundnuts and corn husks to the rancid offal of a long-dead horse. Rowlandson was often on the edge of starvation, but so were her captors, whose ability to extract sustenance from the seemingly barren winter landscape seemed nothing less than a God-ordained miracle. ‘(S)trangely did the Lord provide for them,” she wrote, ‘that I did not see (all the time that I was among them) one man, woman or child die with hunger’” (p. 294)
Philbrick later quotes Rowlandson’s account of their arrival at their destination “But now I may say as Psalm 137, ‘By the Rivers of Babylon…(I) wept.”” (p. 295)
George R. Pasley
January 2, 2009
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Sunday, December 7, 2008
UNDER THE OVERPASS, A JOURNEY OF FAITH ON THE STREETS OF AMERICA
By Mike Yankowski
Multnomah Books
Review by George Pasley
Here is an amazing but simple true story that will both inspire and challenge Christians non-Christians alike. It is the story of two college-aged Christians (Mike and Sam) who decide to live on the streets, five months among the homeless in five American cities.
Their purpose was multi-faceted. To begin, the author was wrestling with the issue of how most Christians live in some form of hypocrisy, saying the right words of faith and love but not doing all they can for those in need. Living among the homeless became a way of entering into their suffering, identifying with their needs, and evaluating the response of the church. But along the way they came to understand much more about faith then most Americans, and they had to wrestle with many of their own stereotypes and beliefs.
“I sat there in church trying to remember a time when I’d actually needed to rely fully on Christ rather than on my own abilities” (p. 15)
They traveled together to protect their safety, still they found themselves in danger more than once. They kept their story a secret, yet at least one person figured it out. After all, what were two young, smart, sober people doing on the streets? Still, they found themselves being ignored, scorned, and verbally abused day-by-day. They came to love the people they met, regardless of their addictions.
Theirs is a journey few would dare, but there is much that we can learn from the risks they took. Here are just a few lessons:
The demographics of homeless differed from city to city. Black, older veterans in Washington DC made way to young whites in Portland.
The geographies of the cities made huge differences, and not merely because of differences in climate. In some cities it was easy to get around, but in other cities long distances between good places to sleep and sources of food made life difficult.
Real human contact between the homeless and those who serve them makes a huge impact on individual lives.
The author has a web site, undertheoverpass.com , where more information is available. I plan to lead a book discussion group on this book at my church, and would recommend it to pastors and teachers in churches, to persons outside the church working with the poor and homeless, and to persons studying social issues in any context. It is well written, simple to use, clear and insightful.
By Mike Yankowski
Multnomah Books
Review by George Pasley
Here is an amazing but simple true story that will both inspire and challenge Christians non-Christians alike. It is the story of two college-aged Christians (Mike and Sam) who decide to live on the streets, five months among the homeless in five American cities.
Their purpose was multi-faceted. To begin, the author was wrestling with the issue of how most Christians live in some form of hypocrisy, saying the right words of faith and love but not doing all they can for those in need. Living among the homeless became a way of entering into their suffering, identifying with their needs, and evaluating the response of the church. But along the way they came to understand much more about faith then most Americans, and they had to wrestle with many of their own stereotypes and beliefs.
“I sat there in church trying to remember a time when I’d actually needed to rely fully on Christ rather than on my own abilities” (p. 15)
They traveled together to protect their safety, still they found themselves in danger more than once. They kept their story a secret, yet at least one person figured it out. After all, what were two young, smart, sober people doing on the streets? Still, they found themselves being ignored, scorned, and verbally abused day-by-day. They came to love the people they met, regardless of their addictions.
Theirs is a journey few would dare, but there is much that we can learn from the risks they took. Here are just a few lessons:
The demographics of homeless differed from city to city. Black, older veterans in Washington DC made way to young whites in Portland.
The geographies of the cities made huge differences, and not merely because of differences in climate. In some cities it was easy to get around, but in other cities long distances between good places to sleep and sources of food made life difficult.
Real human contact between the homeless and those who serve them makes a huge impact on individual lives.
The author has a web site, undertheoverpass.com , where more information is available. I plan to lead a book discussion group on this book at my church, and would recommend it to pastors and teachers in churches, to persons outside the church working with the poor and homeless, and to persons studying social issues in any context. It is well written, simple to use, clear and insightful.
Friday, November 14, 2008
HOPE, HUMAN AND WILD
HOPE, HUMAN AND WILD
By Bill McKibben
Milkweed Editions, 1995 & 2007
ISBN 978-157131-300-3
I’ve read a few (very few) articles by Bill McKibben and even corresponded with him by email but had never read one of his books. This fall I resolved to do so, and found Hope, Human & Wild in a bookstore while I was on vacation. Buying and reading it was an excellent course of action!
The book is a sequel of sorts to The End of Nature, but it did not matter that I had not read that particular book. McKibben himself states that End of Nature was a negative book, and having seen some signs of promise he decided it was necessary to write something hopeful. Hope, Human & Wild is that, though it is also sober and cautious.
McKibben starts by describing the rejuvenation of the Adirondack wilderness, but concludes that though the rejuvenation has been assisted by a certain amount of political assistance, it is primarily due to temporary economic and social conditions and can in no way be considered permanent. Therefore, he set out to see what sorts of things might need to happen in order to preserve some wilderness places on earth in sufficient scale as to preserve biodiversity. He thinks perhaps that cities must provide the answers.
His search for answers led him to two unlike urban areas: the city of Curtiba, in Brazil, and the region of Kerala in southern India.
Curtiba provides McKibben, and the reader, with a description of a place that has managed to make public life more important than private life, and to do the things necessary from a political standpoint to enhance the public life. Their mass transit system has become a model for the world, and it is all buses. Recent changes in the bus system have involved some expenses but the system itself was designed very simply and run privately at a profit. Its convenience and low cost have meant fewer cars, less congestion, and more community.
But the buses are just an example. Curtiba is a city that gives hard and serious thought to public housing, and the book provides a delightful description of much that has happened in Curtiba on that account. In other examples, the poor are invited to collect garbage in the narrow alleys inaccessible by truck, and offered a bag of good groceries in exchange for collected garbage. This not only keeps the streets clean, it gives work to the poor and it provides a market for small farmers in the region. In another example, retired buses are set up as vocational schools for the poor.
Kerala is a region in India that has managed to become 100 percent literate and break the injustices of both the caste system and the Indian preference for boy children. McKibben and the experts he interviewed all had a hard time defining the roots of such success, but they seem to emerge from some progressive Hindu theologians and from the region’s willingness to experiment with socialism. Instead of seeking more wealth, the region has shared the wealth it had. McKibben points to the breakup of large estates and the current abundance of small farms, as well as the existence of innumerable coconut trees.
These two locales are then offered as alternatives to a world with an ever increasing demand for consumption. McKibben then returns to his home in the Adirondacks, and talks about the problems being faced and how local persons are beginning to imagine a different scenario than what is imposed by the global economy.
The 2007 edition includes an afterward that describes events that transpired in the three places over the 12 year interim.
McKibben knows that he is asking a lot- he is asking the wealthy nations of the world to adopt a lower standard of living, but he suggests that something might be gained if we do. That something is community, summed up by a Gandhian disciple in Kerala: “What is the good life? The good life is to be a good neighbor; to consider your neighbor as yourself.” (p. 155)
It seems to me that McKibben has succeeded in offering a vision of possibilities that though difficult, might just be possible- if we can find the resolve.
George R. Pasley
November 14, 2008
By Bill McKibben
Milkweed Editions, 1995 & 2007
ISBN 978-157131-300-3
I’ve read a few (very few) articles by Bill McKibben and even corresponded with him by email but had never read one of his books. This fall I resolved to do so, and found Hope, Human & Wild in a bookstore while I was on vacation. Buying and reading it was an excellent course of action!
The book is a sequel of sorts to The End of Nature, but it did not matter that I had not read that particular book. McKibben himself states that End of Nature was a negative book, and having seen some signs of promise he decided it was necessary to write something hopeful. Hope, Human & Wild is that, though it is also sober and cautious.
McKibben starts by describing the rejuvenation of the Adirondack wilderness, but concludes that though the rejuvenation has been assisted by a certain amount of political assistance, it is primarily due to temporary economic and social conditions and can in no way be considered permanent. Therefore, he set out to see what sorts of things might need to happen in order to preserve some wilderness places on earth in sufficient scale as to preserve biodiversity. He thinks perhaps that cities must provide the answers.
His search for answers led him to two unlike urban areas: the city of Curtiba, in Brazil, and the region of Kerala in southern India.
Curtiba provides McKibben, and the reader, with a description of a place that has managed to make public life more important than private life, and to do the things necessary from a political standpoint to enhance the public life. Their mass transit system has become a model for the world, and it is all buses. Recent changes in the bus system have involved some expenses but the system itself was designed very simply and run privately at a profit. Its convenience and low cost have meant fewer cars, less congestion, and more community.
But the buses are just an example. Curtiba is a city that gives hard and serious thought to public housing, and the book provides a delightful description of much that has happened in Curtiba on that account. In other examples, the poor are invited to collect garbage in the narrow alleys inaccessible by truck, and offered a bag of good groceries in exchange for collected garbage. This not only keeps the streets clean, it gives work to the poor and it provides a market for small farmers in the region. In another example, retired buses are set up as vocational schools for the poor.
Kerala is a region in India that has managed to become 100 percent literate and break the injustices of both the caste system and the Indian preference for boy children. McKibben and the experts he interviewed all had a hard time defining the roots of such success, but they seem to emerge from some progressive Hindu theologians and from the region’s willingness to experiment with socialism. Instead of seeking more wealth, the region has shared the wealth it had. McKibben points to the breakup of large estates and the current abundance of small farms, as well as the existence of innumerable coconut trees.
These two locales are then offered as alternatives to a world with an ever increasing demand for consumption. McKibben then returns to his home in the Adirondacks, and talks about the problems being faced and how local persons are beginning to imagine a different scenario than what is imposed by the global economy.
The 2007 edition includes an afterward that describes events that transpired in the three places over the 12 year interim.
McKibben knows that he is asking a lot- he is asking the wealthy nations of the world to adopt a lower standard of living, but he suggests that something might be gained if we do. That something is community, summed up by a Gandhian disciple in Kerala: “What is the good life? The good life is to be a good neighbor; to consider your neighbor as yourself.” (p. 155)
It seems to me that McKibben has succeeded in offering a vision of possibilities that though difficult, might just be possible- if we can find the resolve.
George R. Pasley
November 14, 2008
Friday, August 22, 2008
FALL OF THE PHANTOM LORD
FALL OF THE PHANTOM LORD
By Andrew Todhunter
Anchor Books, 1998
ISBN 0-385-48641-3
Review by George R. Pasley
The title “Phantom Lord” is a name given by climbers, jumpers and various sorts of extreme sports enthusiasts to the fear of death. Todhunter’s book chronicles a series of visits the author had with Dan Osman, known for the dangerous sports of “free-soloing” (rock climbing without ropes or other safety gear); and "rope jumping" (controlled free-falling) (falling several hundred feet from a cliff then being caught by a safety rope), for which his record was over 1000 feet. Osman died in 1998, shortly after publication of the book, from a fall in Yosemite National Park.
Death of the Phantom Lord occurs when a rope-jumper stands on the edge, confronts his or her fear of death, and leaps. In leaping, fear of death dies, hence, “fall of the Phantom Lord.”
Todhunter intersperses accounts of his visits with Osman with memories of his own risk-taking (Todhunter is a diving instructor and a sailor). The book does not seem to encourage risk-taking, but is instead a guide through the conflict occurring in the author as he wrestles with putting his risk-taking youth behind him in order to take on the responsibilities of marriage and fatherhood.
Todhunter is something of a climber too, and well versed in the techniques of climbing and mountaineering. That knowledge adds depth to the story as he is able to give detailed descriptions of the climbs and jumps that he observed, and of his own attempts to follow Osman on some of the rock-climbing and ice-climbing adventures. Not being a climber myself I did not understand much of the technical descriptions but they did not overwhelm the story.
Talking about people who don’t face fear the way he does, Osman says “I strongly admire that quality in people, those people who are secure in themselves enough to say, ‘You’re not getting me out there. I’m fine right here.’” (p. 130). Another climber is described as being well respected because he was not afraid to back down the mountain if conditions were not safe.
As Todhunter makes an assortment of visits to Osman, his wife becomes pregnant and gives birth. Todhunter describes the birth, a difficult one in which at one point the baby’s life was in jeopardy and after which the mother’s life was briefly in jeopardy. That experience was numbing to Todhunter so that he didn’t really understand the depth of his fear until hours later, after mother and child were both safe. His best writing describes that experience:
“I have never been hit by an avalanche but in the hospital bed I am struck so fast and hard by such a fear that it feels as if I am going to disintegrate, to rip apart. I clutch the sheet with my hands. Erin is bleeding and I can’t stop it. The blood is running from her. I am drowning. The ceiling is upon my chest and crushing me. My bones are snapping. I am choking, gasping for air.
“I throw myself to the floor, kneel on the tiles, and lean into the seat of the chair. I crush my hands together and grind my forehead, brutally against my clasped hands, I cannot escape. My wife and child are dying and I cannot help.
“The walls stop shaking, suddenly. The roaring is extinguished.
“There is someone else in the room. I can feel the distinct presence of Erin and Julia, alive behind me, as clearly as I can feel my two hands, clasped the one within the other. But there is another, near the foot of the bed behind me, closer to the ceiling than the floor. I do not look. I know exactly where he is… (pp. 163, 164)”
Todhunter does not use the name, but in being overcome by fear, he has met the real Lord.
At the book’s conclusion Todhunter decided he will not join Osman on a high jump from a bridge. He describes that decision as “feeling like loss”, but he realizes he will never face another fear as great as that which he experienced after the birth of his daughter. He writes:
“Throughout a youth spent largely in pursuit of fear, I never for a moment suspected where I would find its source. We all draw lines, spontaneously or after long reflection, and every one that matters is a kind of death. And yet each line is an offering, less a bar of closure than a circle, inscribed to shelter something we love more (p. 209).”
I found this to be a profound book, a book that should be appealing to risk-takers and thinkers of many types.
August 22, 2008
By Andrew Todhunter
Anchor Books, 1998
ISBN 0-385-48641-3
Review by George R. Pasley
The title “Phantom Lord” is a name given by climbers, jumpers and various sorts of extreme sports enthusiasts to the fear of death. Todhunter’s book chronicles a series of visits the author had with Dan Osman, known for the dangerous sports of “free-soloing” (rock climbing without ropes or other safety gear); and "rope jumping" (controlled free-falling) (falling several hundred feet from a cliff then being caught by a safety rope), for which his record was over 1000 feet. Osman died in 1998, shortly after publication of the book, from a fall in Yosemite National Park.
Death of the Phantom Lord occurs when a rope-jumper stands on the edge, confronts his or her fear of death, and leaps. In leaping, fear of death dies, hence, “fall of the Phantom Lord.”
Todhunter intersperses accounts of his visits with Osman with memories of his own risk-taking (Todhunter is a diving instructor and a sailor). The book does not seem to encourage risk-taking, but is instead a guide through the conflict occurring in the author as he wrestles with putting his risk-taking youth behind him in order to take on the responsibilities of marriage and fatherhood.
Todhunter is something of a climber too, and well versed in the techniques of climbing and mountaineering. That knowledge adds depth to the story as he is able to give detailed descriptions of the climbs and jumps that he observed, and of his own attempts to follow Osman on some of the rock-climbing and ice-climbing adventures. Not being a climber myself I did not understand much of the technical descriptions but they did not overwhelm the story.
Talking about people who don’t face fear the way he does, Osman says “I strongly admire that quality in people, those people who are secure in themselves enough to say, ‘You’re not getting me out there. I’m fine right here.’” (p. 130). Another climber is described as being well respected because he was not afraid to back down the mountain if conditions were not safe.
As Todhunter makes an assortment of visits to Osman, his wife becomes pregnant and gives birth. Todhunter describes the birth, a difficult one in which at one point the baby’s life was in jeopardy and after which the mother’s life was briefly in jeopardy. That experience was numbing to Todhunter so that he didn’t really understand the depth of his fear until hours later, after mother and child were both safe. His best writing describes that experience:
“I have never been hit by an avalanche but in the hospital bed I am struck so fast and hard by such a fear that it feels as if I am going to disintegrate, to rip apart. I clutch the sheet with my hands. Erin is bleeding and I can’t stop it. The blood is running from her. I am drowning. The ceiling is upon my chest and crushing me. My bones are snapping. I am choking, gasping for air.
“I throw myself to the floor, kneel on the tiles, and lean into the seat of the chair. I crush my hands together and grind my forehead, brutally against my clasped hands, I cannot escape. My wife and child are dying and I cannot help.
“The walls stop shaking, suddenly. The roaring is extinguished.
“There is someone else in the room. I can feel the distinct presence of Erin and Julia, alive behind me, as clearly as I can feel my two hands, clasped the one within the other. But there is another, near the foot of the bed behind me, closer to the ceiling than the floor. I do not look. I know exactly where he is… (pp. 163, 164)”
Todhunter does not use the name, but in being overcome by fear, he has met the real Lord.
At the book’s conclusion Todhunter decided he will not join Osman on a high jump from a bridge. He describes that decision as “feeling like loss”, but he realizes he will never face another fear as great as that which he experienced after the birth of his daughter. He writes:
“Throughout a youth spent largely in pursuit of fear, I never for a moment suspected where I would find its source. We all draw lines, spontaneously or after long reflection, and every one that matters is a kind of death. And yet each line is an offering, less a bar of closure than a circle, inscribed to shelter something we love more (p. 209).”
I found this to be a profound book, a book that should be appealing to risk-takers and thinkers of many types.
August 22, 2008
Friday, August 15, 2008
WONDROUS DEPTH
WONDROUS DEPTH: Preaching the Old Testament
By Ellen F. Davis
Westminster/John Knox Press, 2005
ISBN 0-664-22859-3
Book Review by George R. Pasley
I purchased this book by Davis after hearing her lecture on preaching the Psalms at the Calvin Institute of Worship in 2006. Only recently did I read it, and I am exceptionally joyful that I did not neglect that task entirely.
What we have is a relatively simple book on preaching. It does not try to accomplish a great number of things, but that which it seeks to do it does well. The book contains only about 75 pages of text by Davis on how to exegete and preach. The remainder of the book consists of sermons- two from 17th century preachers and four by Davis.
Davis starts out with a theme that has recently been expounded on in excellent manner by Anna Carter Florence, homiletics professor at Columbia Theological Seminary (See, “Preaching As Testimony.” I have not reviewed it, but highly recommend it. I gave it away to a colleague as soon as I read it.). The best way to describe it is to quote Davis:
“The plain fact is that no preacher can ever be astonishing (in a positive sense) unless she has first been astonished. And the only regular and fully reliable source of astonishment for the Christian preacher is Scripture itself.” (p. 2)
Davis claim is that Scripture is astonishing, and in an extremely successful attempt to prove scripture’s astonishing nature she exegetes the story of the binding of Isaac. Those few pages alone deem this book worthy of a place on every preacher’s bookshelf.
Davis urges preachers to immerse themselves I scripture and especially to pay attention to each word, and she makes extensive use of examples of paying attention to the Hebrew words found in the Old Testament.
An Episcopalian, Davis also provides some very solid commentary on the way that lectionary texts, tied to the liturgical context, can be used to teach theology to congregations.
That which I enjoyed most in Davis’ work was her fine commentary on the two early 17th sermons provided in the book, one by the famous poet John Donne and the other by Lancelot Andrews. Each sermon was first introduced with instruction by Davis. Then, the sermons were printed in narrower column on the following pages, with comments and interpretation by Davis in the margin. While their archaic language virtually made interpretation necessary, that circumstance allowed commentary on techniques and sermon structure by Davis. I would like to see more sermons that are published in collections or examples be commented on in this way (I’m sorry to see that she didn’t choose to do the same thing with her own four sermons). The two old English sermons were definitely long by modern standards but there was certainly much to be learned by studying them, and it seems that Davis makes use of many such sermons in her teaching at Duke.
August 15, 2008
Ketchikan AK
By Ellen F. Davis
Westminster/John Knox Press, 2005
ISBN 0-664-22859-3
Book Review by George R. Pasley
I purchased this book by Davis after hearing her lecture on preaching the Psalms at the Calvin Institute of Worship in 2006. Only recently did I read it, and I am exceptionally joyful that I did not neglect that task entirely.
What we have is a relatively simple book on preaching. It does not try to accomplish a great number of things, but that which it seeks to do it does well. The book contains only about 75 pages of text by Davis on how to exegete and preach. The remainder of the book consists of sermons- two from 17th century preachers and four by Davis.
Davis starts out with a theme that has recently been expounded on in excellent manner by Anna Carter Florence, homiletics professor at Columbia Theological Seminary (See, “Preaching As Testimony.” I have not reviewed it, but highly recommend it. I gave it away to a colleague as soon as I read it.). The best way to describe it is to quote Davis:
“The plain fact is that no preacher can ever be astonishing (in a positive sense) unless she has first been astonished. And the only regular and fully reliable source of astonishment for the Christian preacher is Scripture itself.” (p. 2)
Davis claim is that Scripture is astonishing, and in an extremely successful attempt to prove scripture’s astonishing nature she exegetes the story of the binding of Isaac. Those few pages alone deem this book worthy of a place on every preacher’s bookshelf.
Davis urges preachers to immerse themselves I scripture and especially to pay attention to each word, and she makes extensive use of examples of paying attention to the Hebrew words found in the Old Testament.
An Episcopalian, Davis also provides some very solid commentary on the way that lectionary texts, tied to the liturgical context, can be used to teach theology to congregations.
That which I enjoyed most in Davis’ work was her fine commentary on the two early 17th sermons provided in the book, one by the famous poet John Donne and the other by Lancelot Andrews. Each sermon was first introduced with instruction by Davis. Then, the sermons were printed in narrower column on the following pages, with comments and interpretation by Davis in the margin. While their archaic language virtually made interpretation necessary, that circumstance allowed commentary on techniques and sermon structure by Davis. I would like to see more sermons that are published in collections or examples be commented on in this way (I’m sorry to see that she didn’t choose to do the same thing with her own four sermons). The two old English sermons were definitely long by modern standards but there was certainly much to be learned by studying them, and it seems that Davis makes use of many such sermons in her teaching at Duke.
August 15, 2008
Ketchikan AK
Thursday, August 7, 2008
THE FIRST WORD
THE FIRST WORD: The Search for Origins of Language
By Christine Kenneally
ISBN 978-0-14-311374-4
Book Review by George R. Pasley
I saw this book and, being a man who deals in language all day long, I just had to pick it up. I was not disappointed.
Strictly speaking it is not an academic book. It is written for the general population. But it is a book about an academic subject and for the most part it is not “dumbed down.” Consequently it is not a book for the intellectually uncurious.
The book is arranged in four parts. Part one deals with the history of research into the origins of language, which for the most part is pretty recent. Much of the discussion in part one is fairly philosophical and sometimes hard to understand, but a general understanding of what is going on helps lay a framework for the later parts of the book. An interesting side note to part one is the realization that academic debates are sometimes emotional and even knee-jerk reactions, something we might do well to remember.
Part two gets into the nitty-gritty of what we have learned about language, mostly in the last 30 years. It is neatly arranged into seven chapters that start with thought, and proceed through words, gestures, speech, structure, the human brain and human mutations.
By that list alone one can see that a study of the origins of language would involve a great number of disciplines. Research field that have contributed to the subject range form early childhood development to anthropology to robotics. Within these various chapters I found a great many interesting tidbits that tell me how language works: not only the way words work when put together, but how they work in conjunction with gestures, why they work, and why we communicate.
Part three has thee significant chapters on evolution, the first being evolution of species, the second being evolution of culture and the third a description of how things evolve. Kenneally’s argument is that language has evolved on its own, separately from human biological evolution. These chapters contain significant detail on how evolution happens, and they are not for the faint-hearted. The challenge of her argument might be best summed by these words of Kenneally: “The point is that although we experience ourselves in some sense as finished or perfected, we are not in any way intended. There is no blueprint for what humans are meant to be. And as this moment is merely one moment in the past and future history of our evolutionary lineage, your life right now is merely an instant in the past and future history of the interaction between your genome and your environment” (p. 197, italics original). Not especially affirming!
However, there are significant details in this portion, and they are enlightening. For instance, I learned there is no single one-to-one correspondence between specific genes and their expression- for the most part a biological expression is influenced by a host of genes, and they in turn are influenced by the environment.
Part four is very short and deals with the future of language studies and the future of the human race itself.
In conclusion, if you are curious and want answers, this book will provide some. And if you think you know all the answers, this book will leave you with some new questions.
George R. Pasley
July 30, 2008
By Christine Kenneally
ISBN 978-0-14-311374-4
Book Review by George R. Pasley
I saw this book and, being a man who deals in language all day long, I just had to pick it up. I was not disappointed.
Strictly speaking it is not an academic book. It is written for the general population. But it is a book about an academic subject and for the most part it is not “dumbed down.” Consequently it is not a book for the intellectually uncurious.
The book is arranged in four parts. Part one deals with the history of research into the origins of language, which for the most part is pretty recent. Much of the discussion in part one is fairly philosophical and sometimes hard to understand, but a general understanding of what is going on helps lay a framework for the later parts of the book. An interesting side note to part one is the realization that academic debates are sometimes emotional and even knee-jerk reactions, something we might do well to remember.
Part two gets into the nitty-gritty of what we have learned about language, mostly in the last 30 years. It is neatly arranged into seven chapters that start with thought, and proceed through words, gestures, speech, structure, the human brain and human mutations.
By that list alone one can see that a study of the origins of language would involve a great number of disciplines. Research field that have contributed to the subject range form early childhood development to anthropology to robotics. Within these various chapters I found a great many interesting tidbits that tell me how language works: not only the way words work when put together, but how they work in conjunction with gestures, why they work, and why we communicate.
Part three has thee significant chapters on evolution, the first being evolution of species, the second being evolution of culture and the third a description of how things evolve. Kenneally’s argument is that language has evolved on its own, separately from human biological evolution. These chapters contain significant detail on how evolution happens, and they are not for the faint-hearted. The challenge of her argument might be best summed by these words of Kenneally: “The point is that although we experience ourselves in some sense as finished or perfected, we are not in any way intended. There is no blueprint for what humans are meant to be. And as this moment is merely one moment in the past and future history of our evolutionary lineage, your life right now is merely an instant in the past and future history of the interaction between your genome and your environment” (p. 197, italics original). Not especially affirming!
However, there are significant details in this portion, and they are enlightening. For instance, I learned there is no single one-to-one correspondence between specific genes and their expression- for the most part a biological expression is influenced by a host of genes, and they in turn are influenced by the environment.
Part four is very short and deals with the future of language studies and the future of the human race itself.
In conclusion, if you are curious and want answers, this book will provide some. And if you think you know all the answers, this book will leave you with some new questions.
George R. Pasley
July 30, 2008
IRRITABLE MALE SYNDROME
IRRITABLE MALE SYNDROME
By Jed Diamond
Rodale Inc., 2004
ISBN 1-57594-798-2
Review by George Pasley
I checked this book out of the library for some “self-improvement” (please don’t laugh so hard) and before long I wished I had purchased a copy for my pastor’s library.
Jed Diamond is a licensed psychotherapist who has read, researched and written extensively on issues of male mental health. This particular book is written not only as a researcher and therapist but as a man suffering from the problems he described.
The first portions of the book include anecdotal accounts of the syndrome, its effects, results and some possible treatments. As I read each anecdote I thought to myself, “I’m not THAT bad,” but I could recognize certain behaviors. More specifically, there is a quiz that can be used for self-diagnosis or by a relative/spouse/partner who is concerned about the man in their life. I took it online and was told I have the syndrome. Ouch!
The book contains much helpful information on hormonal causes of irritability, more helpful information on social and cultural causes of irritability, and more helpful information on evolutionary sources of certain behaviors. I found these insights all helpful.
More helpful though are certain chapters written to help spouses and parents help their loved ones address the issue.
Several chapters are devoted to treatment, primary emphasis given to exercise and the need for men to make connections (which was a theme throughout the book). Of particular interest was a study conducted by Rena Repetti at UCLA in which working parents were asked to fill out questionnaires about the events of specific workdays and their subsequent activities at home. “When there was conflict at work, dads took out their anger on their families at home.” (p. 141) In contrast, “The mothers in Dr. Repetti’s studies behaved quite differently. When the moms had a bad day, they were more involved and more affectionate with their children.” (p. 142)
Diamond believes that our evolutionary biology has built a threat response in women that he labels “befriending,” while the threat response in men is “fight.” But, “We can no longer engage in battle to defeat the threat…in the short-run we become hypersensitive, irritable, anxious and frustrated…in the long run, continuous stress, with no ability to relieve it, leads to breakdown and sickness” (p. 142). This insight serves as scientific basis for Diamond’s emphasis on Male support groups.
In a later chapter Diamond references Erik Erikson’s landmark work on human development. I had been exposed to this in my seminary studies, but Diamond’s use of it at this stage in my life allowed me to see some things I had not fully resolved and so I found it very helpful.
Of special interest to pastors is what Diamond calls “our daimons.” The word daimon is of Greek origin, meaning something larger and greater than our every day existence. Romantics may call it destiny but Christians will use the word Diamond prefers to define it, “calling.”
On the subject of our calling Diamond says that learning our calling may likely be a decades long process, but finding and pursuing our calling is essential towards the living of a fulfilling life. It was in this context that Diamond referenced Erikson.
It is quite possible that many who read the book will not subscribe to each of Diamond’s theories, but as a whole many insights and ideas should be helpful. This review has not touched upon all the possibilities discussed by Diamond, and other persons who read the book are sure to find many more nuggets of insight and helpfulness.
George Pasley
June 23, 2008
By Jed Diamond
Rodale Inc., 2004
ISBN 1-57594-798-2
Review by George Pasley
I checked this book out of the library for some “self-improvement” (please don’t laugh so hard) and before long I wished I had purchased a copy for my pastor’s library.
Jed Diamond is a licensed psychotherapist who has read, researched and written extensively on issues of male mental health. This particular book is written not only as a researcher and therapist but as a man suffering from the problems he described.
The first portions of the book include anecdotal accounts of the syndrome, its effects, results and some possible treatments. As I read each anecdote I thought to myself, “I’m not THAT bad,” but I could recognize certain behaviors. More specifically, there is a quiz that can be used for self-diagnosis or by a relative/spouse/partner who is concerned about the man in their life. I took it online and was told I have the syndrome. Ouch!
The book contains much helpful information on hormonal causes of irritability, more helpful information on social and cultural causes of irritability, and more helpful information on evolutionary sources of certain behaviors. I found these insights all helpful.
More helpful though are certain chapters written to help spouses and parents help their loved ones address the issue.
Several chapters are devoted to treatment, primary emphasis given to exercise and the need for men to make connections (which was a theme throughout the book). Of particular interest was a study conducted by Rena Repetti at UCLA in which working parents were asked to fill out questionnaires about the events of specific workdays and their subsequent activities at home. “When there was conflict at work, dads took out their anger on their families at home.” (p. 141) In contrast, “The mothers in Dr. Repetti’s studies behaved quite differently. When the moms had a bad day, they were more involved and more affectionate with their children.” (p. 142)
Diamond believes that our evolutionary biology has built a threat response in women that he labels “befriending,” while the threat response in men is “fight.” But, “We can no longer engage in battle to defeat the threat…in the short-run we become hypersensitive, irritable, anxious and frustrated…in the long run, continuous stress, with no ability to relieve it, leads to breakdown and sickness” (p. 142). This insight serves as scientific basis for Diamond’s emphasis on Male support groups.
In a later chapter Diamond references Erik Erikson’s landmark work on human development. I had been exposed to this in my seminary studies, but Diamond’s use of it at this stage in my life allowed me to see some things I had not fully resolved and so I found it very helpful.
Of special interest to pastors is what Diamond calls “our daimons.” The word daimon is of Greek origin, meaning something larger and greater than our every day existence. Romantics may call it destiny but Christians will use the word Diamond prefers to define it, “calling.”
On the subject of our calling Diamond says that learning our calling may likely be a decades long process, but finding and pursuing our calling is essential towards the living of a fulfilling life. It was in this context that Diamond referenced Erikson.
It is quite possible that many who read the book will not subscribe to each of Diamond’s theories, but as a whole many insights and ideas should be helpful. This review has not touched upon all the possibilities discussed by Diamond, and other persons who read the book are sure to find many more nuggets of insight and helpfulness.
George Pasley
June 23, 2008
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)