A New Psychology of Love, Traditional Values and Spiritual Growth
Author: M. Scott Peck, M.D.
Genre: nonfiction
Publication info: Touchstone, 2003 (first published in 1978)
Pages: 315
First one of my professors said this was the most important book he read besides the scriptures. Then a psychologist friend told me that every family should have this volume in their library. Now it's my turn to recommend this book to everyone I know and, by virtue of this blog, to people I don't know.
The Road Less Traveled is psychiatrist's views on life, garnered from years of giving therapy to a wide variety of patients. Dr. Peck treats the subjects of discipline, love, religion, and grace, all with the aim of helping us to achieve greater mental health. Few people, Peck believes, really have good mental health.
A lot of what he says are things you've probably heard before, or at least they should make sense. A disciplined person delays gratification to gain deeper happiness. Real love involves recognizing your beloved as a separate person. Stuff like that. But it's one thing to understand a principle and another to live by it. Our biggest problem, collectively and individually, is laziness, Says Peck. The resistance to change.
Of course, I'm not suggesting that you buy everything Peck says wholesale. I don't agree with all the points he makes. His views on religion may especially rub people the wrong way. But I recommend this book to all because it has important points that would be beneficial to anyone. The sections on discipline and love would probably be the most helpful, but I recommend reading the whole book. If you don't agree with it, fine, but at least you'll have thought about it.
Yes, I wouldn't put this book above actual scripture. But as a book that tries to make its reader a better person, it does a pretty dang good job. I think I've become at least a slightly better person from having read it. Now it's your turn. See if it can make a better person out of you.
Friday, April 24, 2009
Monday, April 6, 2009
The Significance of Insignificant Things
Author: G. David Hunt
Genre: memoir
Publication info: self-published
Pages: 93
I'm going to be a little mean here.
In the Pixar film Ratatouille, renowned chef Auguste Gusteau gives the maxim, "Anyone can cook." To this, Remy, the protagonist, replies, "Yeah, but that doesn't mean anyone should." The same applies to publishing. Anyone can publish, but not necessarily anyone should publish. The Significance of Insignificant Things is proof of that statement.
I know it's pretentious of me, a no-name blogger, to say something like this. You really have to read this book (even just one page of it) to see what I mean. Or maybe you've read a book like it—fraught with poor organization, riddled with mechanical and usage errors, and breaking virtually every principle of good design imaginable. You may say, perhaps, that I am being too picky here. It is a self-published book, after all. But the fact is that it is published, meaning that it is intended for the public to read. Publication just naturally carries with it some responsibilities.
To be truthful, I didn't expect much out of this book when I started reading it. I chose to read it because I thought there would be interesting life stories in it, and there were. The man had a pretty interesting life. He doesn't tell the stories very well, but I tried not to let that bother me. As poorly written as this book is, I look up to the man for recording his life so that others could learn from it. His family, I'm sure, is especially grateful for this book. I hope I can do the same one day for my descendants.
My only other problem with this book was the issue of significance. The author draws frequently on the theme of the title (and also the subtitle, No Event in Our Lives Is Insignificant to God) by telling about seemingly insignificant occurrences in his life. I get that much, but he usually fails to convince me of how they're actually significant. The "insignificant things" I understand, but their significance I don't always see. I suppose this problem arises from the fact that I don't know the man personally.
I don't exactly recommend this book to you, unless you're related to the author. However, he sets a good example by writing his life history. We all should follow that example. We all have significant things that happen in our life, and our families would benefit from our recording them.
But please, if you plan to publish your memoirs, make sure you get a good editor!
Genre: memoir
Publication info: self-published
Pages: 93
I'm going to be a little mean here.
In the Pixar film Ratatouille, renowned chef Auguste Gusteau gives the maxim, "Anyone can cook." To this, Remy, the protagonist, replies, "Yeah, but that doesn't mean anyone should." The same applies to publishing. Anyone can publish, but not necessarily anyone should publish. The Significance of Insignificant Things is proof of that statement.
I know it's pretentious of me, a no-name blogger, to say something like this. You really have to read this book (even just one page of it) to see what I mean. Or maybe you've read a book like it—fraught with poor organization, riddled with mechanical and usage errors, and breaking virtually every principle of good design imaginable. You may say, perhaps, that I am being too picky here. It is a self-published book, after all. But the fact is that it is published, meaning that it is intended for the public to read. Publication just naturally carries with it some responsibilities.
To be truthful, I didn't expect much out of this book when I started reading it. I chose to read it because I thought there would be interesting life stories in it, and there were. The man had a pretty interesting life. He doesn't tell the stories very well, but I tried not to let that bother me. As poorly written as this book is, I look up to the man for recording his life so that others could learn from it. His family, I'm sure, is especially grateful for this book. I hope I can do the same one day for my descendants.
My only other problem with this book was the issue of significance. The author draws frequently on the theme of the title (and also the subtitle, No Event in Our Lives Is Insignificant to God) by telling about seemingly insignificant occurrences in his life. I get that much, but he usually fails to convince me of how they're actually significant. The "insignificant things" I understand, but their significance I don't always see. I suppose this problem arises from the fact that I don't know the man personally.
I don't exactly recommend this book to you, unless you're related to the author. However, he sets a good example by writing his life history. We all should follow that example. We all have significant things that happen in our life, and our families would benefit from our recording them.
But please, if you plan to publish your memoirs, make sure you get a good editor!
Monday, March 2, 2009
Relentless Pursuit
A Year in the Trenches with Teach For America
Author: Donna Foote
Genre: nonfiction
Publication info: Knopf, 2008
Pages: 338
Teach For America began in 1990 with a mission to end "the nation's greatest injustice"—that is, the achievement gap in education between privileged and underprivileged children. It works by recruiting college graduates, putting them through intensive training over the summer, and then sending them to work for two years in underprivileged schools around the country.
Relentless Pursuit tells the story of four such recruits, or corps members, as they are called. Phillip Gedeon, Hrag Hamalian, Taylor Rifkin, and Rachelle Snyder recently fulfilled their two-year commitment to TFA at Locke High School in Watts, California. If you know anything about Watts (which I didn't until I read this book), you know that it's not exactly one of the top-ten best cities to live in the U.S. And Locke is definitely not the best place to go to school. But these four young college graduates took on the challenge to help the students improve, and this book shows their struggles and triumphs.
I read a review of Relentless Pursuit in the newspaper, right around the time it came out. Already I had been interested TFA and wanted to learn more about it. I thought that perhaps this book could tell me or even show me more than brochures and a Web site could. I was right.
Thanks to this book, I think I understand the TFA experience the best I could without actually doing it myself. And it scares me to death.
Those TFAers, as the author calls them, are some pretty tough cookies. First there is the rigorous selection process, which Foote depicts with intimidating detail. Then there is the summer institute, more commonly known as boot camp, at which the recruits receive their training. And then there is the teaching itself, which is probably the hardest part of all. These young teachers face challenges you wouldn't believe as they try to get their students to achieve more.
They're far from perfect and definitely don't do it without complaining (one of the chapters is titled "What the Hell Am I Doing?"), but I don't see myself doing any better than they did. Far from it, in fact. Now that I have become more familiar with TFA, I really don't know if I'm up to the challenge. But it's better to know that now than later, right?
I recommend this book to anyone who is interested in the condition of our nation's education. What TFA teachers do is heroic and inspiring. If you're considering joining the ranks of TFA to make a difference in the world, I'd definitely recommend this book, but I'd also warn you that it may frighten you. Teaching is a serious business. And Teach For America requires some really gutsy people.
Author: Donna Foote
Genre: nonfiction
Publication info: Knopf, 2008
Pages: 338
Teach For America began in 1990 with a mission to end "the nation's greatest injustice"—that is, the achievement gap in education between privileged and underprivileged children. It works by recruiting college graduates, putting them through intensive training over the summer, and then sending them to work for two years in underprivileged schools around the country.
Relentless Pursuit tells the story of four such recruits, or corps members, as they are called. Phillip Gedeon, Hrag Hamalian, Taylor Rifkin, and Rachelle Snyder recently fulfilled their two-year commitment to TFA at Locke High School in Watts, California. If you know anything about Watts (which I didn't until I read this book), you know that it's not exactly one of the top-ten best cities to live in the U.S. And Locke is definitely not the best place to go to school. But these four young college graduates took on the challenge to help the students improve, and this book shows their struggles and triumphs.
I read a review of Relentless Pursuit in the newspaper, right around the time it came out. Already I had been interested TFA and wanted to learn more about it. I thought that perhaps this book could tell me or even show me more than brochures and a Web site could. I was right.
Thanks to this book, I think I understand the TFA experience the best I could without actually doing it myself. And it scares me to death.
Those TFAers, as the author calls them, are some pretty tough cookies. First there is the rigorous selection process, which Foote depicts with intimidating detail. Then there is the summer institute, more commonly known as boot camp, at which the recruits receive their training. And then there is the teaching itself, which is probably the hardest part of all. These young teachers face challenges you wouldn't believe as they try to get their students to achieve more.
They're far from perfect and definitely don't do it without complaining (one of the chapters is titled "What the Hell Am I Doing?"), but I don't see myself doing any better than they did. Far from it, in fact. Now that I have become more familiar with TFA, I really don't know if I'm up to the challenge. But it's better to know that now than later, right?
I recommend this book to anyone who is interested in the condition of our nation's education. What TFA teachers do is heroic and inspiring. If you're considering joining the ranks of TFA to make a difference in the world, I'd definitely recommend this book, but I'd also warn you that it may frighten you. Teaching is a serious business. And Teach For America requires some really gutsy people.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Bird by Bird
Author: Anne Lamott
Genre: nonfiction, how-to, inspirational
Publication info: Anchor Books, 1994
Pages: 237
There are a lot of books on writing out there, and I know as well as anyone that you can get so wrapped up in reading such books that you never actually write. But some books on the craft of writing are just classics, and I think this is one of them. I judged that by how often other writers refer to it (for example, Gail Carson Levine highly recommended it when I went to her reading). One day my sister and I were Christmas shopping, and I pulled this book off the shelf and said I was interested in it. I didn't think much of it, but she did, apparently, because guess what I got for Christmas! My thanks go to her.
As it turns out, this book is fantastic.
Someone once said that books on writing can be divided into categories: how-to and inspirational. Notice that I used both terms to describe this book. I did so because, well, it fits into both categories. With the subtitle Some Instructions on Writing and Life, this book has plenty of advice for the learning writer—and it's terrific advice at that—but it doesn't have the rigid structure that how-to books tend to have. In the introduction, Anne Lamott says that the book is a collection of thoughts she gives to her writing classes. And it does feel as though she's just sitting down and having a conversation with you. Her style is highly enjoyable from beginning to end.
And yes, the book is hilarious. She uses some great images to illustrate her points (my favorite dealt with drop-kicking a puppy across the fence every time it piddles on the carpet). I have to warn you, though: as gentle-mannered as she is, Lamott uses some surprisingly coarse language sometimes. You can tell by just looking at the chapter titles. Normally I don't tolerate language like that, but the book was just so dang good that I couldn't help but keep reading. And I think I will be a better writer for having read it.
Genre: nonfiction, how-to, inspirational
Publication info: Anchor Books, 1994
Pages: 237
There are a lot of books on writing out there, and I know as well as anyone that you can get so wrapped up in reading such books that you never actually write. But some books on the craft of writing are just classics, and I think this is one of them. I judged that by how often other writers refer to it (for example, Gail Carson Levine highly recommended it when I went to her reading). One day my sister and I were Christmas shopping, and I pulled this book off the shelf and said I was interested in it. I didn't think much of it, but she did, apparently, because guess what I got for Christmas! My thanks go to her.
As it turns out, this book is fantastic.
Someone once said that books on writing can be divided into categories: how-to and inspirational. Notice that I used both terms to describe this book. I did so because, well, it fits into both categories. With the subtitle Some Instructions on Writing and Life, this book has plenty of advice for the learning writer—and it's terrific advice at that—but it doesn't have the rigid structure that how-to books tend to have. In the introduction, Anne Lamott says that the book is a collection of thoughts she gives to her writing classes. And it does feel as though she's just sitting down and having a conversation with you. Her style is highly enjoyable from beginning to end.
And yes, the book is hilarious. She uses some great images to illustrate her points (my favorite dealt with drop-kicking a puppy across the fence every time it piddles on the carpet). I have to warn you, though: as gentle-mannered as she is, Lamott uses some surprisingly coarse language sometimes. You can tell by just looking at the chapter titles. Normally I don't tolerate language like that, but the book was just so dang good that I couldn't help but keep reading. And I think I will be a better writer for having read it.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
The Very Persistent Gappers of Frip
Author: George Saunders
Genre: fiction, young reader (?)
Publication info: Villard Books, 2000
Pages: 82
Sounds like a Dr. Seuss title, doesn't it? I wish it were. Not to say this is an awful book—it's actually fairly interesting and creative, but it doesn't quite have the magic of Dr. Seuss.
This is another book I just sort of came across. At 82 pages and with lots of illustrations (by the popular Lane Smith), it didn't take very long to read. Good thing, too. I'm not as angry as I sound, but the book just didn't turn out to be what I was hoping for.
It's the story of a seaside village named Frip, which consists of three families. The people of the village make their living by selling goat's milk. Once in a while, however, these little burr-like creatures called Gappers come out of the sea and latch onto the goats, frightening them and rendering them unable to provide any milk. It's the children's job to remove the Gappers from the goats. One of these children is a girl named Capable, and one day, the Gappers decide to focus exclusively on her goats. When they do so, she inexplicably loses the respect and sympathy of everyone else in the village.
This little book has its moments. Saunders's style is entertaining once in a while. And the illustrations are, of course, top notch. But the book's quality is overshadowed by an irritating didacticism. The whole thing feels allegorical (for example, the main character's name), although I couldn't tell you what each element represents, and it all seems geared toward teaching a moral to the reader. All of this is fine to some degree, but when you pick up a book expecting to be entertained, but instead the entertainment takes the backseat to teaching a lesson, it's hard not to be annoyed. If I thought the book was funnier, maybe I wouldn't be so bothered.
One more annoyance: Judging by the style of publication, I assume this to be a children's book. But the reason I put a question mark in the heading is I found some of the language a little shocking. I've read plenty of profanity in literature before, and sometimes I'm able to tolerate it or at least ignore it, but in a book of this nature I find it entirely inappropriate. Parents, take note.
Genre: fiction, young reader (?)
Publication info: Villard Books, 2000
Pages: 82
Sounds like a Dr. Seuss title, doesn't it? I wish it were. Not to say this is an awful book—it's actually fairly interesting and creative, but it doesn't quite have the magic of Dr. Seuss.
This is another book I just sort of came across. At 82 pages and with lots of illustrations (by the popular Lane Smith), it didn't take very long to read. Good thing, too. I'm not as angry as I sound, but the book just didn't turn out to be what I was hoping for.
It's the story of a seaside village named Frip, which consists of three families. The people of the village make their living by selling goat's milk. Once in a while, however, these little burr-like creatures called Gappers come out of the sea and latch onto the goats, frightening them and rendering them unable to provide any milk. It's the children's job to remove the Gappers from the goats. One of these children is a girl named Capable, and one day, the Gappers decide to focus exclusively on her goats. When they do so, she inexplicably loses the respect and sympathy of everyone else in the village.
This little book has its moments. Saunders's style is entertaining once in a while. And the illustrations are, of course, top notch. But the book's quality is overshadowed by an irritating didacticism. The whole thing feels allegorical (for example, the main character's name), although I couldn't tell you what each element represents, and it all seems geared toward teaching a moral to the reader. All of this is fine to some degree, but when you pick up a book expecting to be entertained, but instead the entertainment takes the backseat to teaching a lesson, it's hard not to be annoyed. If I thought the book was funnier, maybe I wouldn't be so bothered.
One more annoyance: Judging by the style of publication, I assume this to be a children's book. But the reason I put a question mark in the heading is I found some of the language a little shocking. I've read plenty of profanity in literature before, and sometimes I'm able to tolerate it or at least ignore it, but in a book of this nature I find it entirely inappropriate. Parents, take note.
Gathering Blue
Author: Lois Lowry
Genre: fiction, young adult
Publication info: Houghton Mifflin, 2000
Pages: 215
Remember The Giver, that Newberry-winner from the 90s? That book that everyone told you to read while you were growing up but you never got around to it until years later? Okay, maybe that's not how it happened for you, but the book somehow got past me until just recently. It's a young-adult book, but it wasn't until my young adulthood that I got around to reading it. (Makes you wonder why they use that label.)
Anyway, Gathering Blue is the sort-of sequel to that captivating book. I say "sort of" because it never refers specifically to anything or anyone in The Giver; only the mood is similar. Like The Giver, it depicts a society very different from our own (or is it?), but while the first book is a kind of dystopian story, this one is more of a post-apocalyptic tale. I hope Lowry doesn't mind that I pigeonhole her novels this way.
Kira, the protagonist of the book, has just bid farewell to her mother, who died of a mysterious illness. Now an orphan, and with a crippled leg that makes her essentially useless in her primitive society, Kira is in danger of being cast out and left for dead. But when she is put on trial before the Council of Guardians, she learns that they have other plans for her. Plans that make use of her remarkable talent for working with thread. Life seems secure from her now, but, as she soon learns, things aren't as good as they seem.
That's the basic idea, anyway. It's a pretty interesting book. Lowry has set up an intriguing, far-from-perfect society with a strange set of mannerisms. Children are routinely called "tykes," husbands "hubbies." And the only indication of a person's age is how many syllables there are in his or her name. Overall, it's perhaps not as interesting as the society in The Giver, but it's still pretty creative.
The ending, I have to say, leaves something to be desired. Many things are solved, many secrets revealed, but still the ending is somehow not completely satisfying. I suppose one reason for this is that at this point Lowry knew she would be writing a third book to tie the other two together. But the book should also be able to stand on its own. For the most part it does, I guess, but some things still leave me wondering. Is it just a trick to get me to read the third book?
The thing is that I probably will.
Genre: fiction, young adult
Publication info: Houghton Mifflin, 2000
Pages: 215
Remember The Giver, that Newberry-winner from the 90s? That book that everyone told you to read while you were growing up but you never got around to it until years later? Okay, maybe that's not how it happened for you, but the book somehow got past me until just recently. It's a young-adult book, but it wasn't until my young adulthood that I got around to reading it. (Makes you wonder why they use that label.)
Anyway, Gathering Blue is the sort-of sequel to that captivating book. I say "sort of" because it never refers specifically to anything or anyone in The Giver; only the mood is similar. Like The Giver, it depicts a society very different from our own (or is it?), but while the first book is a kind of dystopian story, this one is more of a post-apocalyptic tale. I hope Lowry doesn't mind that I pigeonhole her novels this way.
Kira, the protagonist of the book, has just bid farewell to her mother, who died of a mysterious illness. Now an orphan, and with a crippled leg that makes her essentially useless in her primitive society, Kira is in danger of being cast out and left for dead. But when she is put on trial before the Council of Guardians, she learns that they have other plans for her. Plans that make use of her remarkable talent for working with thread. Life seems secure from her now, but, as she soon learns, things aren't as good as they seem.
That's the basic idea, anyway. It's a pretty interesting book. Lowry has set up an intriguing, far-from-perfect society with a strange set of mannerisms. Children are routinely called "tykes," husbands "hubbies." And the only indication of a person's age is how many syllables there are in his or her name. Overall, it's perhaps not as interesting as the society in The Giver, but it's still pretty creative.
The ending, I have to say, leaves something to be desired. Many things are solved, many secrets revealed, but still the ending is somehow not completely satisfying. I suppose one reason for this is that at this point Lowry knew she would be writing a third book to tie the other two together. But the book should also be able to stand on its own. For the most part it does, I guess, but some things still leave me wondering. Is it just a trick to get me to read the third book?
The thing is that I probably will.
Friday, January 9, 2009
The Narnian
The Life and Imagination of C. S. Lewis
Author: Alan Jacobs
Genre: nonfiction, biography
Publication info: HarperCollins, 2006 (hardcover in 2005)
Pages: 342 (including notes and index)
C. S. Lewis has long been one of my literary heroes. As a child I enjoyed the Narnia series, a little later I read Out of the Silent Planet, and more recently I devoured some of his famous Christian writings such as The Screwtape Letters, Mere Christianity, and The Great Divorce. Throughout all this reading, I've been fascinated by Lewis's deep thinking and vivid imagination.
But I didn't know very much about him as a person—his life. Enter The Narnian. I picked this book up from a bargain book sale (it ranks among the best five bucks I've ever spent). Finally, around Christmas I got around to reading it.
I have never found a biography so gripping.
True, I haven't read many biographies, but this one had me hooked as I had no idea a biography could. I suppose this is partly due to my already keen fascination with Lewis, but I also must give credit to Alan Jacobs for doing such a stunning job. He admits in the preface that the book is "almost a biography," leaving out "certain details that a responsible biographer would be obliged to include" (what modesty!). Instead, the purpose of this book is to record "the life a mind, the story of an imagination."
It turns out that Lewis's mind and imagination make quite a story. Before reading the book, I knew the guy was smart, but I didn't know that he was actually brilliant until reading it. I can't begin to recount some of the ideas I learned about in this book—they are too deep, and Lewis and Jacobs both put them much better than I could—but I will say that this book made me think. It made me think deeply, about a lot of things. It inspired me. It turned me to introspection. It changed me.
I can't promise that this book will have the same effect on everyone who reads it. But if you have an interest in the works of C. S. Lewis, particularly in the Narnia series, than you would do well to read this book. As the back cover invites, "enter the world of a creative genius."
Author: Alan Jacobs
Genre: nonfiction, biography
Publication info: HarperCollins, 2006 (hardcover in 2005)
Pages: 342 (including notes and index)
C. S. Lewis has long been one of my literary heroes. As a child I enjoyed the Narnia series, a little later I read Out of the Silent Planet, and more recently I devoured some of his famous Christian writings such as The Screwtape Letters, Mere Christianity, and The Great Divorce. Throughout all this reading, I've been fascinated by Lewis's deep thinking and vivid imagination.
But I didn't know very much about him as a person—his life. Enter The Narnian. I picked this book up from a bargain book sale (it ranks among the best five bucks I've ever spent). Finally, around Christmas I got around to reading it.
I have never found a biography so gripping.
True, I haven't read many biographies, but this one had me hooked as I had no idea a biography could. I suppose this is partly due to my already keen fascination with Lewis, but I also must give credit to Alan Jacobs for doing such a stunning job. He admits in the preface that the book is "almost a biography," leaving out "certain details that a responsible biographer would be obliged to include" (what modesty!). Instead, the purpose of this book is to record "the life a mind, the story of an imagination."
It turns out that Lewis's mind and imagination make quite a story. Before reading the book, I knew the guy was smart, but I didn't know that he was actually brilliant until reading it. I can't begin to recount some of the ideas I learned about in this book—they are too deep, and Lewis and Jacobs both put them much better than I could—but I will say that this book made me think. It made me think deeply, about a lot of things. It inspired me. It turned me to introspection. It changed me.
I can't promise that this book will have the same effect on everyone who reads it. But if you have an interest in the works of C. S. Lewis, particularly in the Narnia series, than you would do well to read this book. As the back cover invites, "enter the world of a creative genius."
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