The Reader, by Bernhard Schlink

You may have noticed I frequently will read a book after I've seen a movie or vice versa.  Frequently there's some disappointment one way or the other.  Rarely will you see a movie as faithfully drawn from a book as The Reader.  I watched the movie a few weeks ago (review here) and was sufficiently impressed as to want to read the book on which it was based.  I found that the tone and content of the book are quite well preserved in the movie version.  Rather than repeat my comments on the story from the movie review, I'll just mention a couple of things that jumped out at me.

Michael first met Hanna when he became ill walking home, when she aided him.  After a prolonged illness he returned to express his gratitude.  At that visit, he became enamored with her, and caught a glimpse of her changing clothes.  He became obsessed with her and fantasized about returning to visit her.  He doesn't explicitly quote Jesus' admonition that if you look with lust on a woman you have committed adultery, but he refers to it in a classic justification for premeditated sin.  When struggling with whether to visit Hanna again, he asks,

Did my moral upbringing somehow turn against itself?  If looking at someone with desire was as bad as satisfying the desire, if having an active fantasy was as bad as the act you were fantasizing--then why not the satisfaction and the act itself?  As the days went on, I discovered that I couldn't stop thinking sinful thoughts.  In which case I also wanted the sin itself.

Granted, lust and the act of adultery are both sins, but there is certainly a qualitative difference between imagining the act and actually doing it.  Still, many Christians can relate to his quandary.

In a later passage, as he observes Hanna's trial, he reflects on his generation's rejection of his parents' generation's moral authority.  Every generation has a sense of rebellion against their parents, but in their case, they see the manifest moral failure of the Germans during World War 2 and the years leading up to it. Whether they were active participants, passive approvers, or silent observers, Michael considers the atrocities of that era to reflect a lack of morality for all of their generation, so who can blame young people for wanting to distance themselves from the culture and mores of the previous generation?

As I mentioned in the movie review, the age gap between Michael and Hanna is unnerving, but is essential to the story.  If such a thing can be looked past, once you do look past it, The Reader is a terrific read and brings up questions of moral culpability and ethical decision making in very interesting ways.

The Stars, Like Dust, by Isaac Asimov

A few weeks ago, I read Asimov's Pebble in the Sky.  The Stars, Like Dust, second in the Galactic Empire series, carries on in the same universe, but there's no story or character continuity, just the same historical events and political and social structures.  We continue to see Asimov's ground-breaking influences on the genre: warp travel, the pre-history of the galactic empire, and technological and cultural trends.

The cover of the first edition.

Even though The Stars, Like Dust was published a year after Pebble in the Sky, it takes place many years before.  The story follows Biron Farril, a young man who has been studying on Earth.  His father, a nobleman on the planet Widernos, has been killed as a suspect in the rebellion against the aptly named Tyranni.  The Tyranni rule a large sector of the galaxy with an iron fist.  Brion gets caught up as a suspect as well and falls in love along the way.

There's action, deception, betrayal, romance, adventure; it would make a fun movie.  This is probably not one of Asimov's best efforts.  It lacks the depth and complexity of the Foundation novels, and is not as compelling as the Robot novels.  But fans of rollicking space adventures will enjoy it, and certainly fans of Asimov will want to pick it up.

Money, Greed, and God, by Jay W. Richards

The discerning thinker should make a habit of reading books written from perspectives other than his own, with which he or she is sure to disagree, and which will challenge his thinking by presenting views contrary to those he holds dear.  For me, this is not that book.  For me, this is a book I wish I had written, with which I could find nary a word with which to disagree. 

Jay Richards is or has been affiliated with the Heritage Foundation, the Discovery Institute, and the Acton Institute for the Study of Religion and Liberty, for whom I worked for 4 years.

Richards spends a chapter tearing apart each of these myths about capitalism:

1. The Nirvana Myth (contrasting capitalism iwth an unrealizable ideal rather than with its live alternatives)
2. The Piety Myth (focusing on our good intentions rather than on the unintended consequences of our actions)
3. The Zero-Sum Game Myth (believing that trade requires a winner and a loser)
4. The Materialist Myth (believing that wealth isn't created, it's simply transferred)
5. The Greed Myth (believing that the essence of capitalism is greed)
6. The Usury Myth (believing that working with money is inherently immoral or that charging interest on money is always exploitative)
7. The Artsy Myth (confusing aesthetic judgments with economic arguments)
8. The Freeze-Frame Myth (believing that things always stay the same--for example, assuming that population trends will continue indefinitely, or treating a current "natural resource" as if it will always be needed)

The basic point of Money, Greed, and God, as the subtitle ("Why Capitalism is the Solution and Not the Problem") suggests, is that capitalism, more so than collectivist or socialist solutions touted by many Christians, offers a structure which can foster prosperity and virtue, and, more importantly, is not by its nature in conflict with the Gospel and teachings of the Bible.

What he writes is controversial to some, and he does name names, but his tone is friendly, engaging and sympathetic.  I get the impression that when he debates people, even people with who he heartily disagrees, at the end of the debate he and his foe can be buddies.

Some might argue that Christians who defend capitalism have no regard for the poor.  Richards debunks that perspective while providing a thorough, readable defense of capitalism.

Everyone Has the Right to My Opinion, by Michael Ramirez

As William Bennett says in the introduction to Michael Ramirez's collection of editorial cartoons, "editorial cartoons stir controversy, spark debate and discussion, and move minds to think thoughts not thought before."  They can succinctly and clearly express a point that would take a lengthy essay to make.  The Pulitzer Prize committee has twice agreed that not only is Ramirez a fantastic artist, but he's a brilliant commentator as well.  I don't believe there is a better political cartoonist in the country.

This collection includes his Pulitzer collections from 1994 and from 2008, plus many more.  Each one calls to mind political events and figures and debates brilliantly.  I remember when I was a kid my dad had a book, a cartoon history of the United States, but I was too historically ignorant at the time to get the humor. The cartoons in Everyone Has the Right to My Opinion cover the last 15-20 years, well within my memory.

Ramirez is definitely a conservative, and conservatives will be nodding and laughing in agreement at almost every frame.  On a few occasions he does stray from the party line, notably his balanced treatment of the Middle East.  One of my favorites clearly illustrates a pet peeve of mine: the use of biofuels, driving up the price of food and taking up arable land.  The cartoon speaks for itself:

As one who talks with self-proclaimed investing experts on a regular basis in my professional capacity, I saw another favorite:

There are too many great ones to reproduce here.  His post-9/11 pieces are moving and well worth taking a look at.  Do a google search on his name, or watch for his work on the editorial page of the Investor's Business Daily.

One more thing: when I was attending the 1992 Republican National Convention at the Astrodome, I paused for a moment to watch Ramirez at work; he was sketching the convention platform.  It wasn't until years later that I saw his work somewhere and remembered that.  I wish I had taken a moment then to shake his talented hand.

A Separate Peace, by John Knowles

This 1959 coming of age story, John Knowles's first novel, is certainly a classic, still read by school kids and adults alike.  Set in the middle of World War 2, on the campus of an elite boy's school in New England.  Knowles attended Phillips Exeter; the novel's Devon School is clearly modeled after his alma mater.  The narrator, Gene, holds his roommate and best friend Phineas, or Finny, in high esteem.  Although Finny's not as good a student as Gene, he has a charisma that wins over his teachers and draws in his peers.  As Gene says, Phineas "almost always moved in groups the size of a hockey team" such was his magnetic attraction. 

Out of his mix of admiration and perhaps jealousy of Finny, Gene makes a poor decision that results in injury to Finny.  A split-second decision, an action thoughtlessly taken, had long-lasting impact.  Gene tries to atone for his actions, and remains a good friend.  Finny presents a model of forgiveness.  I'm not sure I could have been as forgiving, and I am quite confident I would have been wracked with guilt were I Gene.  I thought about stupid moves I've made.  I remember in junior high when I got angry with a friend at P.E. and kicked him hard in his groin.  He writhed in pain and recovered quickly, but what if I had done permanent damage?  What other stupid little acts have I done or had done to me that could have had lasting effects?  Knowles explores those consequences and the impact on Gene and Finny's relationship and their lives.  Again, Finny's ability to forgive and love Gene was remarkable.

In the background of their relationship and other events at school is World War 2, drawing these boys inevitably toward service in the armed forces.  The romanticism of war is shattered by their friend Leper's experiences, yet enlisting is almost expected.  In my lifetime, in which the draft exists only in history books and the ocassional policy debate, and during which wars seem to be fought on smaller scales and with smaller numbers, the inevitability of service has not been in my experience.  It's hard to imagine today that teenagers, especially teenagers in the prep school elite, would have the expectation of military service. 

Knowles's descriptive, almost poetic descriptive passages, and his spot-on portrayal of the mind of teenage young men combine to make A Separate Peace a real pleasure to read.  It deserves a spot on your reading list whether your high school days lie before you or are a dim memory.

The Book Depository

In my last post, a review of Mark Gimenez's The Perk, I mentioned that his books aren't exactly easy to find.  I sent Mr. Gimenez an e-mail, and he recommended The Book Depository, a bookstore in the U.K.  Their prices are low, and they promise free shipping to anywhere.  I thought, why not, and went ahead and ordered 2 of Gimenez's books, Accused and The Common Lawyer.  I figured I was in no hurry.  But they arrived in one week!  I've ordered books from places in the U.S. that took longer than that!  So here's my recommendation: shop at The Book Depository!  I spot checked a few books; in some cases, their prices are lower than Amazon.  Plus, you can get a different cover and have a book with funny spellings like colour, centre, banque, and pyjamas.

The Perk, by Mark Gimenez

I first heard of Mark Gimenez when I read a review of his first book, The Color of Law, in Texas Monthly a few years ago.  Then I randomly met him, and he gave me a copy of his second novel, The Abduction.  I have no idea why this guy is not more well-known around here.  He lives in Bedford, and as best I can tell, his books are difficult to obtain in the U.S.  According to his web site, they sell pretty well in the English-speaking world outside the U.S., but he remains little-known here.  Of his 5 published novels, the Bedford Public Library only has 2, as does the Fort Worth Library.  I had to get The Perk through inter-library loan.

All that said, The Perk, like his other 2 novels I've read, was a terrific story.  He's been compared to John Grisham, and I like Grisham, but Grisham, I know Mark Gimenez, and you're no Mark Gimenez.  Grisham's novels are more like a really great bag of potato chips: you can't stop eating them, and they taste good, and you're disappointed when the bag's empty, but then you realize you haven't really eaten much of anything, and it all tasted pretty much the same.  Next time you see that bag of chips, you'll have some more, with the same result.  With The Perk, it's like you're eating a full-course meal.  Ocassionally you get a dish or a flavor you didn't expect, but it was all prepared by a master chef, delicious, well-planned, and satisfying.  You end up wishing the meal was not over, and looking forward to the next feast.

The Perk opens with a major Hollywood star picking up girls in his limo during an Austin film festival; the beautiful young girls clamoring for his attention are a perk of his fame.  He picks one looker from the crowd, fills her with liquor and drugs and has his way with her, after which she passes out and dies from an overdose.  Frightened for his future, he dumps her body by the road near her hometown of Fredericksburg.

Several years later, Beck Hardin, local football hero, returns to Fredericksburg after a long absence.  He graduated and went to Notre Dame on a football scholarship, stayed for law school and a high-flying career in corporate law.  Only after his wife's death from breast cancer does he decide to return to the father and the town and the state he had sworn never to return to.  At his father's urging, he runs for county judge in a special election and wins on a fluke (but a fluke that turns out to be significant for the plot).  And he agrees to help his old high school pal, now the local high school football coach, find his daughter's killer.

With that case in the background, and the statute of limitations running down, Beck takes on the docket of a small-town county court.  It turns out to be more complicated than he thought it would be.  He finds himself in the middle of an ongoing culture clash between the old-time Germans, Mexican immigrants, and newly arrived former urbanites.  Old boy networks, town traditions, and cultural conflicts make Beck's job quite a bit more interesting.  Gimenez touches on an almost dizzying array of issues: integreation of public schools, the professionalization of high school football, illegal immigration, changing rural economies, the afore-metioned loss of a spouse to breast cancer, drug use among rural teens, racism, justice, prejudice, family relationships, grief, and more.

I particularly like his jab at the goat farmers.  Fredericksburg, in LBJ country, benefitted from President Johnson's mohair subsidy.  So area goat farmers grew wealthy raising goats and receiving these agricultural subsidies.  When Clinton eliminated the subsidy, many goat farmers had to find another way to make a living.  When one of the goat farmers criticizes the Mexicans born taking welfare, J.B., Beck's straight-talking dad, points out that the local German goat farmers got rich taking government money.  The goat farmer didn't take that too well.

Aside from the running jab against the mohair subsidy, I have a feeling The Perk won't be a very popular read in Fredericksburg, especially among the German establishment.  Gimenez paints Fredericksburg as a town divided, ruled by the old German families, many of whom have intermarried to maintain land and power.  Public offices are passed from father to son, and cousins wed to keep land in the family.  The Mexican population is mostly illegals who work at the turkey plany.  I know fiction often calls for caricatures, and Gimenez does leave some outs ("most of the Germans aren't like that," sympathetic portrayals of Mexicans), but he still portrays the town as a facade of a small-town paradise with an dark, dirty underbelly.

Gimenez's characters are believable and relatable.  The Perk sucks the reader in not only to the richly complex plot but also into the back stories and personal lives of the characters.  He does have a tendency toward melodrama, but he uses the intertwining stories effectively and purposefully to move the plot along.  The resolution emphasizes a major theme: Beck is reminded repeatedly that the legal system is concerned with the law, not necesarily with justice.  Justice is done, for the most part, but Beck's experiences demontrate the limits of law in bringing about justice.

I hope Gimenez gets the exposure he deserves and starts selling more books in the U.S.  The Perk is a gripping read, highly enjoyable, just as his other 2 novels were.  Pick it up and enjoy a great story with memorable characters and a taste of Texas.  Just don't stay up 'til 3 a.m. reading it, like I did.

[One more thing: Gimenez's books are available through a store in England called The Book Depository.  They ship to the U.S. for free!]