The Julian Chapter, by R.J. Palacio

If you haven't read R.J. Palacio's Wonder, you really ought to.  In it, she tells the story of Auggie, a child with a cranio-facial disorder, and his struggles to become accepted in fifth grade.  In Wonder, Julian leads his classmates in widespread rejection and shunning of Auggie.  Palacio's new story, "The Julian Chapter: A Wonder Story," tells part of the story from the point of view of the bully, Julian.

Julian knows he doesn't like Auggie, and can't stand to look at him, but has to come to grips with why he feels the need to act so cruelly.  I won't say Palacio forces sympathy for Julian, but she certainly gives him a fair hearing, so we understand his point of view (terrible as it may be).  When he finally comes around, courtesy of a story his grandmother tells from her childhood, he shows that he really does get it.

So if you've read Wonder, you really must read "Julian's Chapter."  If you haven't read Wonder, do it.  You won't be disappointed, and then you'll for sure want to read this.


Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the complimentary electronic review copy!

The Heroic Path, by John Sowers

Last weekend, I went on my church's men's retreat.  One of the features of every retreat at our church is skeet shooting.  I haven't shot skeet since Boy Scout camp, about 30 years ago, so I was as close to being a beginner as is possible.  My pastor tried coaching me a little bit, but quickly identified me as a hopeless case and gave up.  I felt clumsy, awkward, inadequate, and, well, unmanly.  I can relate to what John Sowers writes in The Heroic Path: In Search of the Masculine Heart.  Sometimes it seems that there is this elusive quality of manhood, of knowing how to be a man, that suburban-raised cubicle dwellers like me don't quite grasp.

Sowers, whose father left when he was young, began to wrestle with what it means to be a man in this world when his twin daughters were born.  His desire to be their protector, their provider, their hero, led him to start a journal and ultimately to write this book about the heroic path to manhood.  Drawing on Robert Bly, J.R.R. Tolkein, C.S. Lewis, and especially the life of Jesus, he describes "the way to the wild masculine" which "follows the wind trails of Jesus as he walked into manhood."  Sower expounds on "the heroic path," "the mythic steps": severance (from Mom), confrontation, transformation, and return.

Sowers has some strong encouragement for men to be bold, to take risks, to step into the wild and be changed. For Sowers, coming face to face with a giant Kodiak bear was a turning point.  After an experience like this in "the wild," "everything has changed. The Secret Fire lights your eyes and simmers in your bones. You are coiled steel, burning with quiet intensity."  You will then be compelled to "walk into the center of town, climb the watchtower, and ring the bell.  We are to awaken the sons of long-dead knights, rousing sleepwalking men, men who are tiptoeing safely down to the grave."

Sowers bemoans the fact that American culture doesn't have a rite of passage to manhood like many cultures do. He's probably right that men would be stronger for it if we did. But he did tend to lose me with much of his "wildness" rhetoric, which sometimes made it seem like a manhood is incomplete without wilderness survival skills. Plus, while self-reliance and independence of thought are admirable and essential qualities, they must be rightly expressed. When he talks about finding "strength to put up boundaries" at work and saying no to pressing responsibilities, he asks "what if I stopped worrying about pleasing others?"  I know exactly what would happen to me at my job if I stopped worrying about pleasing others: I'd be unemployed!  I guess then I'd have time to head to the wild to find my manhood. 

Sower's call to manhood will appeal to many men, especially Chrisitan men who feel they have been emasculated by the church. I wish The Heroic Path had more practical, realistic advice for everyday living. I just don't see a trip to stalk bears on Kodiak island to be in my future. 

Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the complimentary electronic review copy!

Kindred, by Octavia Butler

What would you do if you were a black woman living today, and suddenly found yourself transported to the antebellum South, where you were forced to live as a slave?  That's what happened to Dana in Octavia Butler's Kindred.  When the life of Rufus, son of a plantation owner, is in danger, Dana is drawn back to the past to save him.  Her stays get longer and longer, and she learns that her family is connected to Rufus's plantation, and gets to meet and mingle with her ancestors.

Butler presents a dark image of plantation life, of which Dana experiences the good and the terrible.  From a historical perspective, Kindred is a great introduction to life in the South, specifically the injustices suffered by the slaves.  Dana got first-hand experience of succumbing to the abuse and degradation.  Even in her relatively short stints, she learned to play-act her compliance, and allow herself to become numb to her plight.  My stomach ached to think that just a few generations ago, in my own country, perhaps even my own ancestors owned and abused slaves the way Dana and her forbears were treated.

My only beef with the book, with I thoroughly enjoyed, was the fact that the time travel element was not developed at all.  I mean, at least give us a hint as to why the time travel took place, through what means, if there are other episodes involving other people.  Kindred is categorized as science fiction, but there is none of the explanatory material a sci-fi reader might expect.  This is no more sci-fi than, for instance, Twain's Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court.

But don't let this quibble detract you.  It's really just an observation.  This is a great book, deservedly still in print 35 years after publication.

But Enough About You, by Christopher Buckley

Christopher Buckley long ago stepped out of the shadow of his father, the legendary William F. Buckley.  He has certainly earned his place as a brilliant writer on his own merits.  Besides his tremendously entertaining and humorous political novels, Christopher Buckley has written copiously for magazines such as The New Yorker, The Atlantic Monthly, Forbes FYI, and others.  Many of his magazine pieces have been collected in a newly published collection, But Enough About You: Essays.

The essays and articles herein run the gamut, include travel pieces, reviews and criticism, memoir, and goofy stuff he must have written just because he thought it would be fun.  In the latter category, we find histories of the bug zapper, hotel alarm clock, hotel minibar, and the lobster bib, among other things.  These pieces are intelligently funny, but got a bit tiresome.  They were my least favorite part of the book, yet I know I would have appreciated them much more in the original context, as the silly humor piece in an otherwise straightforward magazine.

OK, I'm done being critical.  This really is a great collection of essays.  The great thing about But Enough About You is that if one essay is not to your liking, surely the next one will suit you.  Buckley has had such a wide range of experiences, in his travels, writing career, political experience, and his circle of friends, that it seems he has no end of interesting anecdotes.  His life is more interesting than most, and he writes movingly and brilliantly about it.  (And, I would add, humbly.  Even though he moves in elite circles, he does not come across as elitist.)

You just have to admire a writer who is as comfortable writing about a visit to Auschwitz or a tribute to Joseph Heller as he is writing about his imcompetence as a ski instructor for his 7-year-old son, or a fake questionnaire for vice presidential candidates.  Even more, he writes effectively about both. I am in full agreement with the dust jacket: "Reading these essays is the equivalent of being in the company of a tremendously witty and enlightening companion."  But Enough About You will have you alternatively laughing, thinking, and wanting to read more of Christopher Buckley.



Thanks to Edelweiss and the publisher for the complimentary electronic review copy!

Was this review helpful to you?  Tell Amazon:
http://www.amazon.com/review/R2SH5EE1D8DGAK/ref=cm_cr_rdp_perm?ie=UTF8&ASIN=1476749515

The Reappearing Act, by Kate Fagan

Perhaps the worst-kept secret in sports is the presence of lesbians on women's athletic teams.  With high-profile college and pro athletes coming out on our sports pages on a regular basis, Kate Fagan's coming out story seems to come from another time.  Fagan, now an outstanding ESPN columnist, was, 10 years ago, a starter on the Colorado Buffaloes basketball team.  In The Reappearing Act: Coming Out as Gay on a College Basketball Team Let by Born-Again Christians, Fagan tells the story of her time at Colorado, during which she came to grips with her gay identity.

As the subtitle suggests, Fagan was surrounded by outspoken Christians, and for a while joined them in Bible study and worship.  But she could not reconcile her feelings and attractions to other women to what she heard at Bible study and church.  She realized that her feeling that she was gay "was more real to me than any Bible verse or prayer session had ever felt."  More than the struggle against the Bible, she struggled against letting down her family and Christian friends.  She knew they would be disappointed in her, but she could not deny who she felt like she was becoming.

Fagan's story is unfortunate in several ways.  She was surrounded by good friends on the basketball team, but their "love the sinner, hate the sin" attitude seemed more like "hate the sin, reject, ignore, or shun the sinner."  She eventually moved out of the apartment she shared with her close Christian friends, unable to tolerate the judgmental looks.  By extension, she was driven away from God and the church.

After a pretty dark time of depression and rejection, Fagan seems to have taken some strong steps toward wholeness and acceptance of herself.  I am a straight, male, Christian, and I tend more toward her teammates' point of view, but I appreciated Fagan's perspective.  There are men and women in Fagan's shoes all around us.  In spite of growing acceptance of homosexuality in culture, being gay can still be a struggle.  Christians need to remember that we are called to love, not to judge.



Thanks to Edelweiss and the publisher for the complimentary electronic review copy!

Good Call, by Jase Robertson

If you watch Duck Dynasty, you know who Jase Robertson is.  One of Phil Robertson's sons, Duck Commander COO, duck call creator extraordinaire, and a colorful personality on the TV show, Jase reveals more of himself in his new book, Good Call: Reflections on Faith, Family, and Fowl.  Jase tells some funny stories on himself, which you would expect, but I was more impressed reading about Jase's active, evangelistic faith.

Jase is an entertaining guy, who loves hunting ducks, but also (perhaps more so) hunting frogs.  I went frog gigging one time, but that's not Jase's style.  He likes to stalk them and catch them with his bare hands.  He's a purist, and a connoisseur of frog legs.  But duck hunting tends to dominate his life.  Thus, the beard.  He likes the beard for aesthetic reasons, and for the practical reason of not having to shave.  More importantly, it makes sense of a duck hunter not to have his white, hairless face, shining like a beacon to scare away the ducks.

In Good Call, Jase writes about "facial profiling."  He tells the funny story of being politely escorted out the side entrance of a swank Manhattan hotel by a restaurant employee who mistook him for a homeless person.  He has been on the receiving end of plenty of wary looks due to his beard.  He insists, however, that he is "not going to judge someone for having less facial hair.  There is a place in our society for people with smooth faces; it's called the ladies' room. (That's a redneck joke.)"

Besides the funny stories and beard stories, Jase writes extensively about his ministry.  He went to Bible school and was, for a short time, a minister.  He and his wife, Missy, actively told anyone who would listen about Jesus, and had Bible studies at their house several nights a week.  By his accounting, many, many people have entered into a relationship with Jesus due to their influence.  In fact, he insists that his main goal for the popular Duck Dynasty show is that his family would have more opportunities to share about Jesus.  They certainly have been able to witness, both on TV and at events around the country.  He writes, "the only kind of stardom I and my family are interested in is the lifestyle in Christ as described in Philippians 2:15-16: "children of God . . . [that] shine like stars in the universe as you hold out the word of life."  From my perspective, it does look like the entire Robertson family has lived with that humble, Christ-centered attitude.

Of course one of the greatest challenges to Jase and Missy's faith has been dealing with having a daughter born with a cleft lip and palate.  Duck Dynasty viewers are familiar with Mia's birth and with the multiple surgeries she has gone through.  In Good Call Jase writes about how their faith has sustained them, and how Mia's spirit has out-shined any physical difficulties she has had.  I loved hearing about her great attitude, and reading about how Jase and Missy have taken this hardship and turned it into an opportunity to bring glory to God and to minister to other families who are facing the same thing.

Readers who are looking for good stories about Jase's childhood, the crazy things he gets himself into, and, of course, duck hunting, will not be disappointed.  There are surely not many people who love duck hunting more than Jase, but this book is really about his love of God and his desire to see other people fall in love with Jesus.  Good call, Jase.




Thanks to Edelweiss and the publisher for the complimentary electronic review copy!

Was this review helpful to you?  Tell Amazon:
http://www.amazon.com/review/R3IJZG7W67F8G9/ref=cm_cr_rdp_perm

Attack of the Giant Robot Chickens, by Alex McCall

So how could I not want to read a book called Attack of the Giant Robot Chickens?  I was expecting a book loaded with silliness, and I wasn't terribly disappointed on that front.  But Alex McCall's book isn't just silliness, it qualifies as legitimate, fun, young-adult fiction.  In a near-future Aberdeen, Scotland, the adults have all disappeared, the kids survive in clans, hiding out for fear of the robot chickens that scour the landscape, looking for victims.

In some ways this is a pretty standard survive and fight back after a natural disaster/ apocalypse/ alien invasion story.  Alex McCall keeps it light, but the kids have to figure out how to be heroes, how to fight these giant robot chickens, and how to survive and return to their prior way of life.  It's a clever twist on a standard genre, thoroughly enjoyable, creative, and entertaining.  A movie version by the creators of the Wallace and Gromit films would be fitting for the tone and content of the book.

Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the complimentary electronic review copy!