jdhomrighausen plugs away at the pile in 2014.

Welcome!

I am a university student, majoring in religious studies in classics. I aspire to be an academic, and mostly read nonfiction in philosophy, psychology, and religion. My 2013 thread is here:
http://www.librarything.com/topic/159211

I am also doing the 14 in 14 challenge:
http://www.librarything.com/topic/158882

Some goals for this year -

I hope to hit 175 books this year.
I hope to read more stuff pre-1900, more classics.
I hope to actually finished my 14 in 14.
I hope to re-read some of the best stuff I read in 2013, and dive further into new authors I discovered, such as:
G. K. Chesterton
H. P. Lovecraft
Milton Steinberg, although he only has one famous novel
Barbara Brown Taylor
J.R.R. Tolkien
Oliver Sacks
Barbara Ehrenreich
Irvin Yalom
George MacDonald

Some group reads I am doing:
N.T. Wright's Christian origins series: http://www.librarything.com/topic/162163#
Harry Potter: http://www.librarything.com/topic/162724
Dan's Bible read-through: http://www.librarything.com/topic/154880
The Science, Religion, and History group read: http://www.librarything.com/topic/162852
Neil Gaiman's Sandman series: http://www.librarything.com/groups/sandman
Thomas Mann read: http://www.librarything.com/topic/162664#

I hope you will join me this year as I spectacularly fail to get all this reading done!

January 2014
1. Father Brown Mysteries, The - The Blue Cross, The Secret Garden, The Queer Feet, and The Arrow of Heaven: A Radio Dramatization by G. K. Chesterton
2. The Summit of the Gods Volume 1 (of 5) by Yumemakura Baku
3. The Two Towers: Being the Second Part of The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien
4. A Natural History of Latin by Tore Janson
5. The Return of the King by J.R.R. Tolkien
6. What the Buddha Thought by Richard Gombrich
7. Discipline: The Canonical Buddhism of the Vinayapiṭaka by John Clifford Holt
8. The Odyssey by Homer, translated by Robert Fagles
9. Fifth Business by Robertson Davies
10. The Art of Gandhara in The Metropolitan Museum of Art by Kurt A. Behrendt

February 2014
11. Edicts of Asoka by N. A. Nikam
12. Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain
13. The Buddha Image: Its Origin and Development by Y. Krishan
14. The Fault in Our Stars by John Green

March 2014
15. Going Clear: Scientology, Hollywood, and the Prison of Belief by Lawrence Wright
16. The Odyssey of Homer: The Great Courses by Elizabeth Vandiver
17. Islam and the Ahmadiyya Jama'at: History, Belief, Practice by Simon Ross Valentine
18. Parallel Lives: Five Victorian Marriages by Phyllis Rose
19. Chaucer's Language by Simon Horobin
20. The Muslim Jesus: Sayings and Stories in Islamic Literature, ed. By Tarif Khalidi

April 2014
21. Life of the Buddha (Clay Sanskrit Library) by Ashvaghosha, trans. Patrick Olivelle
22. Inanna, Queen of Heaven and Earth: Her Stories and Hymns from Sumer by Diane Wolkstein and Samuel Noah Kramer
23. Walking With The Gods: Modern People Talk About Deities, Faith, and Recreating Ancient Traditions by W. D. Wilkerson
24. Prometheus Bound by Aeschylus, translated by James Scully and C. John Harrington

May 2014
25. Haunting the Buddha: Indian Popular Religions and the Formation of Buddhism by Robert DeCaroli
26. Emergence: Labeled Autistic by Temple Grandin
27. Jataka Stories in Theravada Buddhism by Naomi Appleton
28. When Dead Tongues Speak: Teaching Beginning Greek and Latin, ed. by John Gruber-Miller

June 2014
29. The Sparrow by Mary Doria Russell
30. The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien
31. The Rabbi's Cat by Joann Sfar
32. The Penelopiad: The Myth of Penelope and Odysseus by Margaret Atwood
33. Medieval and Modern Greek by Robert Browning
34. Agamemnon by Aeschylus, translated by Philip Vellacott and by Robert Fagles
35. Seven Against Thebes by Aeschylus, translated by Philip Vellacott and Helen H. Bacon/Anthony Hecht
36. My Name is Asher Lev by Chaim Potok
37. How to Read the Qur'an by Carl Ernst

July 2014
38. Persians by Aeschylus, trans. by Philip Vellacott and by Janet Lembke/C. J. Herington
39. California Apricots: The Lost Orchards of Silicon Valley by Robin Chapman
40. St John of the Cross: His Life and Poetry by Gerald Brenan
41. John of the Cross: Doctor of Light and Love by Kieran Kavanaugh
42. University of Santa Clara: A History, 1851-1977 by Gerald McKevitt, S.J.
43. The Dead Sea Scrolls Today by James C. VanderKam
44. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone by J. K. Rowling
45. The Dark Night of the Soul: A Psychiatrist Explores the Connection Between Darkness and Spiritual Growth by Gerald G. May
46. The Selfish Gene by Richard Dawkins
47. Heaven on Earth: Art and the Church in Byzantium, ed. by Linda Safran
48. Call of Cthulhu and Other Stories by H. P. Lovecraft

August 2014
50. A Gentle Introduction to Old English by Murray McGillivray

September 2014
51. A New History of Christianity in China by Daniel H. Bays
52. The Making of Buddhist Modernism by David L. McMahan
53. The Buddhist Art of Gandhara: The Story of the Early School; Its Birth, Growth and Decline by John Marshall
54. The Missionary's Curse and Other Tales from a Chinese Catholic Village by Henrietta Harrison
55. The King James Version Debate: A Plea for Realism by D. A. Carson
56. Scripture Matters: Essays on Reading the Bible from the Heart of the Church by Scott Hahn
57. The Making of Buddhist Modernism by David L. McMahan
58. Sacred Ground: Pluralism, Prejudice, and the Promise of America by Eboo Patel
59. Illuminating the Word: The Making of the St. John’s Bible by Christopher Calderhead
60. The Clash of Gods: A Reinterpretation of Early Christian Art by Thomas F. Mathews
61. Christ the Miracle Worker in Early Christian Art by Lee M. Jefferson
62. Oedipus Rex by Sophocles

October 2014
63. Heracles: The Twelve Labors of the Hero in Ancient Art and Literature by Frank Brommer
64. Philoctetes by Sophocles
65. Medea by Euripides
66. Herakles in the Art of Classical Greece by Rainer Vollkommer
67. Herakles: Passage of the hero through 1000 years of classical art by Jaimee Pugliese Uhlenbrock
68. The Lansdowne Herakles (J. Paul Getty Museum. Publication no. 1) by Seymour Howard
69. Alcestis by Euripides
70. Ajax by Sophocles
71. Alcestis by Euripides
72. Women of Trakhis by Sophocles
73. Herakles by Euripides
74. Ion by Euripides
75. Helen by Euripides

November 2014
76. The Bacchae of Euripides: A Communion Rite by Wole Soyinka
77. Agamemnon by Aeschylus

Hi Jonathan & welcome - Please make sure to also introduce yourself over at the introductions thread!

http://www.librarything.com/topic/162099

I was a religion major in undergrad (mostly Jewish studies, with a tish of Islam here and there) and came to it through a classics professor, so I'm excited to see what you're reading this year!

I just checked out your 14 in 14. I like your categories.

Hello Jonathan! I've starred your thread so I can check up on what you're reading. I majored in religion & philosophy when I was an undergrad and went on to an MA in medieval studies, so our interests will certainly cross over at points :)

Whew! I found you! I've been absent from LibraryThing so long that I had trouble remembering what you'd changed your name to. I only vaguely remembered that you'd changed it. :) My thread is open over on 75ers. :) Come on over! I promise this year I'll be around more. ;)

Welcome back, Jonathan, and happy new year!

Just stopping by to place my star on top of your thread.

Thank you everyone! I have starred your threads too. Except avidmom - where is yours?

Kris and Erratic_Charmer, I attend a Catholic (Jesuit) university so religious studies here is a mix of theology and comparative religion. I think I am getting the best of both worlds. I mostly focus on Christianity and Buddhism and work as an intern in campus ministry building interfaith dialogue and community on campus.

I took Greek to read the NT, but it was so much fun that I bit the bullet and declared a full classics major. I have since started Latin, the medieval variety, with the religious studies department chair who is a medievalist. So Erratic, I see where you are coming from too. Kris, we do have a Jewish studies person; he studies contemporary Jewish philosophy, especially Buber. We also have a Jesuit who does Talmud (!).

8> Ah, Jesuits are terribly sexy! The professor of religion where I did my undergrad degree was a medievalist as well, but we didn't have a classics department and I only started doing Latin in grad school. I miss it - maybe I'll try to pick up some books from the Loeb classics library this year. Judd Books in London has a pretty good selection of them and I'll be in London next Sunday :) If I'm lucky they'll have Catullus.

>8 JDHomrighausen: It's over here. Sorry 'bout that. Somebody stayed up way past their bedtime last night!

http://www.librarything.com/topic/163397

Somehow, with the almost nothing I know about Jesuits, I'm not surprised that one could get into studying Talmud!

> 9

Erratic, I don't know how we keep our classics department alive. It's a very small major, and the department increases its appeal by teaching a LOT of fun general ed courses. But the language sequences must be a financial loss for the university. I took Greek from a professor who had been teaching there since 1977 and she said our course of 9-10 students was the biggest she had ever seen. The Greek reading courses (this year we are doing Herodotus, the Odyssey, and New Testament) usually only get 4 students.

As the department chair told me, "The Jesuits keep us because they feel guilty that they should know Latin and Greek."

LOeb is good, but have you started collecting from the Dumbarton Oaks library?

Well, day one of the new year has already given me a bounty of books!

Father Brown Mysteries, The - The Blue Cross, The Secret Garden, The Queer Feet, and The Arrow of Heaven: A Radio Dramatization by G. K. Chesterton

Last year I started listening to audiobooks, which completely changed the way I read, especially fiction. I picked up what I thought was an audiobook of I, Claudius and it turned out to be a BBC radio drama. I was hooked. This dramatization of selected Father Brown mysteries was no disappointment. The Colonial Radio Theatre did a great job. I am ready to try more!

The Summit of the Gods Volume 1 (of 5) by Yumemakura Baku

Picked this up at Fanime last year. Woke up this morning and wanted a light read while my house guests woke up from the couch. (I am the only morning person in my friends group, I am sure.) I have read very little manga, but Baku's book does not disappoint. It follows a Japanese photographer in Nepal who stumbles across what might be the camera of one of the first Mount Everest explorers, who died in 1924 in a failed attempt to scale the behemoth. Along the way the reader is led into the life story of a presumed-missing Japanese mountaineering genius who seems to have turned up in Kathmandu. The mountain drawings are stunning (just google around). I definitely want to get my hands on the next four volumes.

The Two Towers: Being the Second Part of The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien

Continue to be stunned. I want to re-read these in paper format last this year (I'm listening on audio). My favorite part was Sam and Frodo's dialogue on the nature of stories and literary immortality.

“It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were. And sometimes you didn't want to know the end… because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it’s only a passing thing… this shadow. Even darkness must pass.”

12 > "The Jesuits keep us because they feel guilty that they should know Latin and Greek." Ha! I bet there's a lot of truth in that. Language study in general seems to be in a bad state in the US and UK. When I was studying Old Norse we had a crusty professor of Icelandic who kept trying to recommend German sources to us and getting annoyed because none of us could read German. Apparently back in his day grad students came fully equipped with reading knowledge of both French and German.

Enthusiastic thumbs-up for Father Brown! Funny you should mention The Queer Feet; I just started that particular story last night.

Dumbarton Oaks library? No, I've never even heard of it. It's only the second of January - are you enabling already?!

Erratic, Dumbarton Oaks is Loeb for medievalists. It's a recent invention, but already they have published dual-language editions of Beowulf, the Rule of St. Benedict, and the Vulgate. It answers a long frustration of mine with Loeb for not going past late antiquity. Behold:

http://www.hup.harvard.edu/collection.php?cpk=1320

A Natural History of Latin by Tore Janson

I don't feel like reformatting my review, so I'll link you to my blog:

http://jdhomie.com/2014/01/03/book-review-a-natural-history-of-latin/

This will not be a regular occurrence. My blog concerns ancient languages and only reviews about that topic will go there.

Awesome! Have you read Ad Infinitum: A Biography of Latin? I've been planning to read that for years now....

I think I will pass on that one, as it appears to cover the same territory. There are some books on later Latin I've been eyeing though: Jozsef Herman's Vulgar Latin, F.A.C. Mantello's Medieval Latin: An Introduction and Bibliographical Guide, and Joseph Solodow's Latin Alive: The Survival of Latin in English and the Romance Languages.

If you're interesting in history of languages, I also enjoyed Joel Hoffman's In the Beginning: A Short History of the Hebrew Language, which I read back in 2012.

>18 JDHomrighausen:, yes please, thanks!

I've just added both the Latin and the Hebrew books to my list of LT book recommendations -- thanks (I think)!

J - I would be overwhelmed by your blog, so I'll have to restrict myself to following you here and in our OT read. However, the blog is impressive.

Thank you Dan. It's a recent project. At the very least you might find the Hebrew material interesting.

Just saying 'hello' and dropping by to star your thread. I read somewhere (Fanny's thread?) that you're a Hebrew speaker, so we have that in common! I'll be interested to follow some of your planned reading this year - particularly any Bible reading, the Thomas Mann read, and any other comparative religion stuff. Mann's Joseph and His Brothers tome is staring me from its shelf as I type...

Hi Polaris! You are half right. I can read biblical hebrew. Were I in Israel I would be completely lost, unless I came across a road sign with something like "Moses and the Israelites made a covenant with God."

One of my 14 in 14 is biblical fiction. I am intimidated by Joseph and his Brothers. Make sure to get the John Woods translation. I've heard from many sources that it is better than Lowe-Porter's, whom Mann himself didn't even like (she was appointed by his publisher).

Just starred your thread.

Absolutely get the John Woods translation, and don't be intimidated. It is very long but very readable, and even funny in spots.

Readable or no, a book of that girth must wait until summer!

I read other things while I was reading it (largely because I couldn't take it on the subway for obvious reasons). Just saying!

Damn it all - I've just checked and I've got the Lowe-Porter translation. Arggh! I have the Vintage Classics edition published 1999. Disappointing. I might have to replace it when the chance arises, OR just dive in to the 'Tales of Jacob' biblical language and all...

JD - I can think of quite a few places where your Ancient Hebrew would do just fine... Anyway, I'm sure you'd get by anyway - at least as far as reading stuff out and about, and understanding what you'd hear - Modern Hebrew's often this odd mix of a floral sort of classical language mixed with an odd combination of the high-minded early revivalist language together with Army-type jargon and acronyms galore, plus the modern slang-based vernacular from international languages (typically English or Arabic or Russian - the latter especially so since the post-90s immigration from the ex-Soviet Union) and a smattering of Yiddish and a few other vocabularies.

You make it sound fun. Maybe some day...

I highly recommend Joseph and His Brothers.

Oh, rats, I just checked my copy of Joseph in Egypt, and it's the dreaded Lowe-Porter translation.

15 -- thanks for the link to Dumbarton Oaks -- I'll have to keep an eye on their publications.

The edition I read of Joseph and His Brothers was all in one book, a Modern Library publication. Joesph in Egypt is the third of the four novels, so probably not the best place to start, Lisa.

I know. I found a nice two-volume edition once and picked it up thinking that I would eventually collect the set. Now I think I'll just start over with the Woods translation. The Modern Library single volume must be quite a tome! I would like to read The Magic Mountain as my first Mann. Just have to get my courage up. I wish I had read it at the time of the group read for moral support.

You can still go and read the posts in the group read: Start here. I reread it along with the group read and found a lot of the posts insightful and helpful.

That's a good idea. Thanks, I'll favorite it for that special moment when I finally crack open the book!

What an interesting subthread!

For everyone here: this first week of school is going well. I am, as usual, getting my money's worth out of my overpriced college degree:

Classics 109: Hellenistic Age
English 142: Chaucer
Classics 152: Homer's Odyssey (in Greek)
Classics/Philosophy 131: Stoicism
Religion and Society 154: Islamic Jesus

I am also helping as a 'peer educator' for the Catholic mysticism class I took last year. We begin with the New Testament and Desert Fathers and end with Thomas Merton and the contemporary centering prayer movement.

All these classes are fun but my work is cut out for me.

Sounds like another fascinating and exhausting semester. Good luck and hope you can enjoy it.

What Dan said!

Yeah! -- you decided to take Chaucer!

>37 JDHomrighausen: Fantastic choices, especially the Homer.

I was just going back over your thread and noticed this class: "Religion and Society 154: Islamic Jesus". I'd love to know what you're reading and how you're finding this class!

Your semester looks great overall but my ears perked up particularly at the Christian mysticism. If it's allowed I'd love a nosey at the list of sources you're using on centering prayer ;)

Hi Erratic Charmer: we are using Cynthia Bourgeault's Centering Prayer and Inner Awakening.

Hi everyone!

The quarter has been very eventful. And it's only week three.

What the Buddha Thought by Richard Gombrich

Gombrich's book purports to be an introduction to Buddhism. But in fact it's more of a disjointed review of current debates about early aspects of Buddhism. Gombrich, a senior scholar of early Buddhism, gives his rather gnarly opinions about other scholars (sometimes cheap swipes) and popular theories. The biggest theme tying this book together is Gombrich's examination of the way in which both Buddhists and scholars of Buddhism get key terms and doctrines wrong because they forget the context of the Buddha's words. Gombrich examines Vedic and Jain texts to find parallels with the Sutras.

Gombrich's biggest issue is his hardline assumption that the Pali Canon almost entirely originates in the Buddha's life, that the Buddha was a historical figure, and that the Pali Canon is largely unchanged and very accurate about the Buddha's life. Of course, there is very little evidence for any of these assertions. But it is nice to believe that the only evidence we really have happens to be highly reliable. Note the audacity of the title of this book; it's not just what the Buddha taught, or even what the Sutras say, but what the Buddha thought. Gombrich sets a high standard for herself.

Gomrbich is a fun writer, but I wouldn't recommend this as a real introduction to Buddhism.

Discipline: The Canonical Buddhism of the Vinayapiṭaka by John Clifford Holt

A brief intro to Buddhist scripture: Buddhists, unlike Christians, do not even agree on what their canon is among sects. (Christians have some small differences, but not over the most important texts.) So Tibetan Buddhists, Zen Buddhists, Theravadin Buddhists all have different canons which they read in different languages.

The earliest Buddhist scriptures, the Pali canon, were transmitted orally for many generations (at least 400 years) before being written down either between 29-17 BC (the canon's own account) or the 4th-5th centuries AD (more skeptical scholars). Unlike the New Testament, we lack ancient manuscript evidence for the Pali Canon (India's climate is not conducive to textual remains). Scholars differ on how reliable and how ancient the Pali Canon actually is. The fact is that we have very shaky evidence that there was a Buddha at all, and even shakier evidence that much of the Pali Canon is what it purports to be: an accurate record of the life and teachings of the Buddha.

That said, the Pali canon is still a very important source for early Buddhism. It's just that we need to read it with a critical eye. It is divided into three sections: Sutras, or discourses of Buddhist teaching; Abhidhamma, very dense literature detailing different types of psychological states; and the Vinaya, rules for monastic discipline. Holt's book covers the third.

Holt examines the Vinaya from a number of perspectives: the moral basis of Vinaya rules, their relation to early lay-monastic relations, and the rituals of communal identity and purity enacted in early monastic circles. I really enjoyed this insightful and concise book.

The Odyssey by Homer, translated by Robert Fagles

This quarter I'm taking a course on the Odyssey so I decided to listen to it as a refresher. I've read it, a few years back, but I wanted to get the real experience. Or at least an approximation: the real experience would involve having it orally composed impromptu in ancient Greek.

What piqued my curiosity the most this time around was the way Athena interacts with Odysseus and Telemachos. She helps them, but sometimes when they need help she stands back and tests their ability to handle the situation on their own. I also found it interesting how she reveals and disguises herself in different contexts and to different people.

Reading Homer in Greek is difficult, but easy in some ways. There are no definite articles (making it harder to figure out case) but there are also many stock phrases and epithets that repeat themselves. As poetry it can be elliptical and leave things implied and unsaid.

I've heard good things about the Fagles translation, Jonathan, and wonder what you thought of it. For several years, I've been working my way up to reading The Iliad and The Odyssey and so I'm interested in what different people think of different translations.

Rebecca, it depends on what you are reading it for. If you want to study the English alongside the Greek, Fagles is not a good translation, and my professor recommends Lattimore. If you want to read the story and enjoy it, Fagles is great. I really like his translation, and the fact that he is a bit loose in translating idioms and phrases makes it a great read in English. Also his edition has a lot of notes at the back. :)

"(sometimes cheap swipes)" - this drives me crazy in academic writing. Grow up folks! Enjoying your reviews - hope classes are going well!

Thanks for the lessons on the early Buddhist texts. Once I finish the OT, I'll move in the Homer - have Fagles waiting.

The quarter has been very eventful. And it's only week three.
!

Enjoying your very interesting reviews, as always. Hope the quarter isn't so crazy that it keeps you away from LT too much.

It's amazing how many books you pump through in a semester!

>48 fannyprice: "(sometimes cheap swipes)" - this drives me crazy in academic writing. That drove me crazy in academic *life*, never mind just the writing! :p

Thanks for the reference to Cynthia Bourgeault's book, JD. As it turns out that's exactly the one that I have on my to-read list; glad to know that it's considered a good source book on the subject.

I recently picked up The War That Killed Achilles on a book-buying spree in London, so will be getting into both the Iliad and the Odyssey later in the year. As I'm a just-for-fun reader I'll probably go with the Fagles translation. Thank you for the recommendation :)

I've finally made my way over to this group to find your thread. Lots of good reads already. I wish I had read through all my Greek and Latin course books in complete translation first; as it is, I've read chunks of a lot of things in the original, but very little in its entirety.

Zoe, what are your favorite texts/authors in Greek and Latin?

#37 JD
1st, Hi! I found you and starred your thread.
2nd, I would love to know what your reading list for Islamic Jesus is.

Hi Clio!

Apart from the obvious - a Qur'an, the Abdullah Yusuf Ali translation - we are reading:

The Sun is Rising in the West - a collection of conversion narratives from Westerners (mostly ex-Christians) who have converted to Islam, designed to be used in missionary efforts.
Jesus and Muhammad - written by a Qur'an scholar and former Muslim who converted to Christianity.
The Muslim Jesus: Sayings and Stories in Medieval Literature - a collection of medieval Islam folktales and other forms of literature involving Jesus.

There are a lot other articles; the class is eclectic and goes back and forth from the past and the present. Just this last week we have done both Gnosticism and doceticism and their impact on Islam views of Jesus and the contemporary conversion narratives in "The Sun is Rising." The professor for the class, David Pinault, is himself a Catholic who has spent decades studying Islam.

#56 JD
oh cool, thanks. I think I'll add a couple of those to my wish list.

#47 Thanks, Jonathan, for the recommendations. I love lots of notes at the back!

>54 JDHomrighausen: Hmm, good question. I'd say my favourite Latin authors are Catullus and Sallust (specifically the work on Catiline, which is the only one of his that I've read), and my favourite Greek author is Herodotus. It's interesting to consider what factors influenced this decision: in large part, I think they're all authors who are fairly easy to read, and whose work I read in undergraduate classes when we could devote a good chunk of time to each author. During my master's degree, when we would sample each author for a week or two at a time and try to get through a ridiculous amount of text, I don't think I could appreciate anything nearly as much. I do remember being pleasantly surprised by the excerpt we read of Apollonius of Rhodes' Argonautica, though.

Edicts of Asoka by N. A. Nikam

Asoka, the most famous of the Mauryan kings of ancient India, is well-known for inscriptions he placed all over India about the morality and the teaching of dharma. He was for Buddhism what Constantine was for Christianity, a king who founded his dynasty by co-opting a religious tradition to give him imperial credibility. So his inscription can be seen either cynically (as mostly political rhetoric) or idealistically (as the writings of a king motivated by pure intent). I prefer to stick somewhere in the middle. Judge for yourself – one of his inscriptions:

Beloved-of-the-Gods, King Piyadasi, honors both ascetics and the householders of all religions, and he honors them with gifts and honors of various kinds. But Beloved-of-the-Gods, King Piyadasi, does not value gifts and honors as much as he values this — that there should be growth in the essentials of all religions. Growth in essentials can be done in different ways, but all of them have as their root restraint in speech, that is, not praising one's own religion, or condemning the religion of others without good cause. And if there is cause for criticism, it should be done in a mild way. But it is better to honor other religions for this reason. By so doing, one's own religion benefits, and so do other religions, while doing otherwise harms one's own religion and the religions of others. Whoever praises his own religion, due to excessive devotion, and condemns others with the thought "Let me glorify my own religion," only harms his own religion. Therefore contact (between religions) is good. One should listen to and respect the doctrines professed by others. Beloved-of-the-Gods, King Piyadasi, desires that all should be well-learned in the good doctrines of other religions.

This particular edition of the edicts assumes Asoka to be the most benevolent Platonic philosopher-king to ever walk the earth. Also, they arrange the edicts thematically, which makes them more accessible for the general reader but more confusing for the historian who does not want the primary source pre-digested for her. I would prefer their introduction have been less adulatory and more critical.

(P.S. This book had a red cover!)

So many good books, so little time.

Fifth Business by Robertson Davies

Davis’ book is a first-person narrative, told by a man looking back on a long and interesting life. The main character is a committed bachelor who works by day as a history teach at a boarding school for boys but finds his true passion in stories of medieval saints.

I REALLY liked this book. The main character is a lot like me: bookish, interested in obscure religious subjects nobody else cares about. I want to read more of this trilogy.

The Art of Gandhara in The Metropolitan Museum of Art by Kurt A. Behrendt

Behrendt describes the art of Gandhara, a region in Northwest India that began producing some of the first statues of the Buddha in the first century. Gandharan art represented some of most sophisticated art of ancient India, and there is good evidence to point to its having influences from Hellenistic styles in its iconography and ways of portraying the human body. Behrendt gives a good overview of its chronology (what little we can know) and the different types of artistic products (mostly Buddhist sculpture and relief from stupas and monasteries).

Personally, I am writing my senior thesis for classics on the Hellenistic heritage of early Christian and Gandharan Buddhist art, and this is a good first look at Gandharan art in general. I only wish Behrendt had included more on the way in which Western scholars have theorized about Gandharan art and its ties to the Greco-Roman world.

Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain

I had never read a Mark Twain book before, and I can’t say I am too crazy to read another. Twain tells the story of a young boy who is a general scoundrel, always getting in trouble and acting selfishly. But he keeps being loved and adulated for his escapades, which by coincidence often turn out in his doing things that look altruistic and virtuous. In a way I think Twain is poking fun at “adult” society and how ridiculous all our petty vanities and social aspirations are. But it fell a tad flat with me. This was a fun book, full of adventure and humor, but I didn’t really walk away with any kind of new insight.

The Buddha Image: Its Origin and Development by Y. Krishan

Krishan’s short book, read for my preliminary thesis research, both introduces and comments on scholarly debates surrounding the early development of the Buddha image. Earliest Buddhism, while not entirely aniconic, did not portray the body of the Buddha. Artists would use symbols such as a lotus flower or a dharma wheel to represent the Buddha’s presence. Krishan made me aware that this was a common tradition in India, as Jains and the Vedic religion also had this sort of quasi-aniconism. Krishan reviews some of the other major debates surrounding the earliest Buddha images. Were they first in Gandhara or Mathura? Krishan argues for either Gandhara or a simultaneous development in both places at once. He also examines the question of whether or not Buddha images began with the Mahayana, and says no. Overall this book was a useful introduction, but I would have preferred for explanation of historical background.

#61 JD
A book bullet! Fifth Business sounds really interesting.

Nice to get an update from you. Looks like you are pretty deeply entrenched with you senior thesis on top of whatever else you have going. Interesting that you started a Robertson Davies trilogy, and fun to read your response to Huck. I think I've been forced to read that twice, although long ago before I kept track and I can't be sure I finished. But, yeah, I didn't find it a fun read. It got quite boring to me. I like Huck and Jim more in concept, thinking about what they did, then I did as a reading experience.

Hi Dan! Yeah the thesis is a bit nuts. I am (tentatively) looking at ancient Buddhist and Christian art and the way in which they both take on the heritage of Greek art. Yikes.

I am going to read Esther soon. You might see that I am leaving facebook. This will surely make time for things like Esther. LOL!

Very cool thesis choice. I recall reading--I'm pulling down my Gardner's Art Through the Ages as I say this--that Greco-sculptural techniques (garments, tunics) made lasting impressions on Buddhist sculpture. It's been a while since Art History 101, though.

J - Good for you leaving facebook (I say that even though I'll miss your posts)

Always like catching up with your reviews. I'm a Robertson Davies fan so I encourage you to continue . . .

The Fault in Our Stars by John Green

I almost never read YA fiction, but my girlfriend insisted I read this, one of her favorite novels. Green tells a typical teenage love story, but with one non-typical plot twist: the main character is a girl dying of terminal cancer.

I won't reveal the ending, but this is a really sad book, one that is brutally honest about what it is like to be a teen dying of cancer, about the ways we try to sugarcoat and avoid death. As someone who dealt with death as a child (I am an orphan) I could really connect with the main character as she tried to figure out what happened to her.

Cancer does raise a question for me though. My parents died very suddenly (car accident). What would be preferable, dying suddenly or dying slowly and painfully? What would be easier for the dying and for those surrounding them? I honestly don't know.

What would be preferable, dying suddenly or dying slowly and painfully? What would be easier for the dying and for those surrounding them? I honestly don't know.

I've experienced both kinds of loss - swift & shocking & slow and painful. My brain went into immediate shock and denial both times. *sigh* Both suck.

It is a luxury rarely given to be able to say goodbye. I have shepherded one person through cancer and am now shepherding another. When they go, it still sucks.

But, as AuntieClio says it is a luxury to say goodbye. Before my dad passed away from cancer, he refused any meds that would knock out his pain so he could say goodbye to everybody, friends and family. He told me and my mom he thought he had a pretty good life. There's a lot of comfort in that.

Right now I am sitting in the room next to my own friend who is dying. He is asleep - when I got here he was already sleeping so I am just doing homework waiting for him to awake.

He is 94, a retired Jesuit priest who has lived all over the country and done many diverse ministries. Just a month ago he was biking around town and playing tennis. Now he has been brought low by a bout of pneumonia and is in hospice. So this question is close to home. Personally, I am sad he is going, but he is also at peace with it and has had a long life, and that makes me content. I have dealt with death an abnormal amount for one who is 23, so I guess I am used to seeing people go and do not feel grief sharply any more. But that may change. I think if my girlfriend or mom were to go I would be hysterical.

I think dealing with a lot of death when one is young perhaps makes one a bit more philosophical about death. I know it did me -- by the time I was 21, I had lost 3 great-grandparents, 4 grandparents, and my father -- and had known 2 or 3 high-school and college classmates who had died. I was sort of numb and refused to go to any more funerals for a long time. But like you, I'm not sure I would be very philosophical if either of my children or my grandchild were to die.

I definitely think age makes a difference. Of course I was upset when my grandmother died (in her 90s), but knowing that she had lived a good full life provided a lot of comfort. There was no sense that things could have or should have gone differently, though I would have liked to have a few more years with her. In some ways, I'd say it was the ideal death: in her home, at an advanced age, but without a long decline preceding it (though she had been confined to a wheelchair for a few years). We didn't know when exactly it would come, so we didn't really have a chance to say our goodbyes, but her age meant that it wasn't exactly unexpected either.

On the other hand, it just seemed horribly wrong when a friend's 17-year-old brother died unexpectedly (during a soccer game, from a congenital heart defect). I had only met him a few times, but in a way it hit me even harder. There was such a sense of regret for a life not lived.

>68 JDHomrighausen:,

I read The Fault in Our Stars and found it moving. Having had the opportunity to be with two people as they died, I would say I prefer to be able to say good-bye. On the other hand, I nearly died suddenly. Had I died, it would have been quite comfortable for me because I did not have time to be afraid. My husband, on the other hand, found the ordeal excruciating because he was not allowed to accompany me to the hospital in the trauma helicopter nor see me until I was stabilized and conscious.

Sudden death must be far more traumatic for the survivors than those who died. I've always thought the best death would be just to die in one's sleep -- but I'm horrified by the thought that may be how my husband would die, and I would wake up and find him dead.

Berossos and Manetho: Native Traditions in Ancient Mesopotamia and Egypt by Gerald Verbrugghe and John M. Wickersham

This book collects all the fragments by and about Berossos and Manetho, two historians in the early Hellenistic age who wrote about their own cultures for a Greek audience. I read this for my Hellenistic Age, which is so far one of the most fascinating courses I’ve taken at university.

Berossos was a Babylonian priest who later moved to Egypt, perhaps to be a “fellow” at the library of Alexandria. He wrote many works, all in Greek. The most important one is his history of Babylonian culture, beginning with the start of the universe and incorporating Near Eastern king-lists and mythological tales. He also texts on astrology. Manetho, an Egyptian priest, also wrote a massive history of Egypt for Greek audiences. His is the primary literary (e.g. not hieroglyphs on temple walls) source that we have about ancient Egypt.

Although coming from different cultures, it makes sense that their writings are collected in one volume. Both wrote in Greek. Both integrate Greek thought into their work, often giving Greek equivalents for whatever deities in their pantheon they were speaking of. One wonders in both cases how much they had to interpret (perhaps distort) their history to be sensible and palatable to a Greek audience.

Also, both have their primary writings lost to history, coming down to us only in fragments and paraphrases from later authors that Christian scribes saw more fit to copy. Early Jewish and Christian historians took interest in both of them, so much of what we have of Berossos and Manetho comes from Josephus and Eusebius. Both of these men in turn used Berossos and Manetho to both bolster their account of the historicity of the Bible (sometimes stretching their sources a bit) and polemicize against the two men when their accounts didn’t match biblical chronology.

The editors speculate on why their texts did not survive – especially in the case of Berossos. One reason they give is that their histories just weren’t as interesting to a Hellenistic audience. Near Eastern king lists are not the best bedside reading. But given that for many parts of Egyptian and Babylonian history this might have been all that was left, what more could they do? From one perspective, it is better to be accurate than fascinating. But if you want your text to survive and be copied, best to add titillation.

As a long-time sucker for anything of the ancient near east (really, anything ancient), I enjoyed this book immensely. I can only fantasize what we might discover if we came upon complete manuscripts of either of these mens’ works. Verbrugghe and Wickersham have done a great job introducing the fragments and speculating on how they relate to broader cultural changes in the Hellenistic world.

Continuing my education through your reviews . . . .

I showed up in the news today for about 10 seconds. NBC came and interviewed students at my school about the Dalai Lama visit:

http://www.nbcbayarea.com/news/local/Dalai-Lama-Spreads-Message-of-Compassion-at...

They used what I thought was the most inconsequential thing I said. I have heard others say the same thing. I guess I don't know what video news people are looking for.

That was very cool to see you, Jonathan! Did you have a chance to hear him yourself?

Thank you for sharing that, Jonathan.

I didn't get to see him personally. I wasn't even in the stadium -- I was watching the overflow livestream in the cafeteria! Being within a mile of him was enough for me.

I was fortunate enough to hear him speak when I was in grad school. What an amazing presence he has, even speaking before a crowd. I can't imagine what it's like to speak to him one on one.

What an awesome thing to have happen!

So cool!

That was cool to see you interviewed and an interesting news story. (And thanks for the history lesson in Berossos and Manetho)

Thanks for all your commentary and support, everyone. I am now entering week 9 of the quarter so all bets of sanity are off. Enjoying my time on LT this morning though!

My elderly friend died Thursday. I'm actually glad. He was not in a good place the last few days. He was very much at peace and ready to go -- a real luxury.

His father superior (he was a Jesuit) called me to let me know and also told me that George wants me to have his books. "Would you be interested in taking his books?" he asked. A silly question, but also a dangerous for my piles. Still, an honor to have them.

In 2010 a family friend died, a literature professor whose favorite subject was myth. Her husband and kids did not share her passion, but they knew I did, and they told me I could take whatever I wanted. So I have Diane's copies of Homer, Dante, and Virgil, all heavily marked up in her sloppy, spidery scrawl. She had several translations so I now have about a half dozen Infernos.

Whose books are in your library? Whose books are you honored to possess?

Whose books are in your library? Whose books are you honored to possess?

Neat question! My (now late) grandmother passed on her Readers' Digest Condensed Book collection to me when I was a kid. Never been too thrilled about the books themselves (much rather read the "real" books), but treasure them simply because they were hers. Last summer I found a book on my shelves that my great grandmother had owned; that was pretty stellar. :)

This would make a good question for the "Questions for the Avid Reader" thread!

LOL! When my grandpa was 90, he was forced to move due to eminent domain. He had entire bookcases full of the condensed editions. We had to recycle them since even Goodwill didn't want them.

I always wondered who got the job of doing the condensing, and whether or not they enjoyed what they did.

I am honored to have a small percentage of my mother's and father's books, as well as some of my mother's parents (I come by my love of books honestly).

And yes, avidmom, that would make a good question . . . maybe the next one . . /

Sadly, or not, I pretty much built my own library from scratch. When the time comes, I hope my nieces and nephew, or their now theoretical children, will adopt my library.

My daughter knew that we had recently redone our will and wanted reassurance that when I pass, she "will really get to keep all my books for her own?"

Greetings all,

I write at the conclusion of what has undoubtedly been my worst quarter ever. Too many people going to the hospital; and on top of that my car needed a new clutch and transmission repairs add up.

The good part, however, about driving to LA and back a few times is that I got some great audiobook reading in.

Going Clear: Scientology, Hollywood, and the Prison of Belief by Lawrence Wright

Wright's book is a history of Scientology (what little there is) as well as a biography of Hubbard and those around him who helped build the church. Wright writes (haha) very well.

When I began this book, I disliked Scientology. Now, I can say I am more nuanced. Wright helped me understand individual Scientologists and what motivates them to join the religion. I feel sad for people who join needing something to structure their lives around only to get sucked into a parasitic and controlling cult. At the same time, Wright acknowledges that the pseudoscientific Scientologist techniques of psychological growth have helped people in real ways.

Even as I became more sympathetic to individual Scientologists, this book only made me hate Hubbard more. Given the facts Wright reports, it's hard not to see the man as a sexist, homophobic, psychopathic con man. Wright seems to do a bit of flipping himself. He paints a horrific image of the man early in the book only to later ruminate on how Hubbard may have been really trying to help others in whatever misguided way he knew how.

For me the most interesting parts were the intellectual and spiritual background of Scientology (lots of Theosophical influence) and the concluding ruminations on the promise and peril of a new religion. Creating a new set of religious practices and symbols allows for the joy of creativity, but the symbols do not carry the same weight of centuries that venerated crosses and Buddha statues do in their cultures.

The Odyssey of Homer: The Great Courses by Elizabeth Vandiver

I listened to this to help me review for my final in my class on Homer's Odyssey, which we read three books of in Greek. Ever since I got Audible and Great Courses became affordable, I have been greatly enjoying them! But they can be hit and miss. One of their most popular lecturers, Kenneth Harl, is impossible to follow for me. Vandiver was just the opposite. I didn't need to take notes or have the book in front of me to follow along with her explication of the poem itself. I actually want to listen to this again! Thankfully, Vandiver has done several courses on classical literature and myth, and I am going to listen to her Classical Mythology course as I take my own class on that subject this spring.

Islam and the Ahmadiyya Jama'at: History, Belief, Practice by Simon Ross Valentine

I read this for my Islamic Jesus course to understand the belief system of the Ahmadis, a group of Muslims who believe that Jesus didn't die on the cross, but went into a coma, woke up, and went to Kashmir as an old man to die a natural death there. The Ahmadiyya movement, founded as an Islamic reform movement in late nineteenth century India, is a very minority movement despised by Muslims worldwide. While there is some amount of scholarship on them, it is mostly focused on their social relations with other Muslims, not on their distinctive theological views.

Valentine has written an engrossing book that look just at Ahmadi theology, but at their position in the global scene today. A Brit, he moved to an Ahmadi neighborhood in a neighboring town to live and work among them for a few years. His Ahmadi neighbors were very inviting and friendly, all too willing to help him once he disclosed he was writing a book about their religion. He eventually went to Pakistan to visit the world leaders of the religion and get a better sense of the Ahmadi movement worldwide. I really like how he mixes personal narrative and analytical rigor to create a good primer on this understudied movement.

Just a brief update on what I am up to.

I am still blogging at jdhomie.com. Feel free to see what I write about.

Next quarter I am picking up Classical Arabic, as well as continuing Hebrew, Greek, and Latin. This quarter has been very Greek-filled with my Homer course. Next quarter is New Testament Greek which is closer to my heart but also linguistically much easier. After my exhausting fall course in Biblical Poetry I have been away from Hebrew but intend to pick it up again now.

My schedule:
CLAS 65: Classical Myth
CLAS 156: New Testament Greek
ENGL 141: High Medieval Literature (taught by my Beowulf professor; this will be mostly Arthurian literature)
ARTH 110: Early Christian and Byzantine art (my first art history course!)
RSOC 107: Seminar in Comparative Mythology
RSOC 90: Theories and Methods in the Study of Religion

I was just offered a part-time summer job in university archives, so I will be around very old books this summer. Well, not old by the standards of my classics department, but old relative to my own books. My university is built around one of the California Missions so we have archives dating back to the 1700s. By West Coast standards that is pretty old.

Also, I might be working as a research assistant this summer, so keep your fingers crossed for me. If the grant goes through, I will be helping my professor with Dead Sea Scrolls textual criticism, a topic I know nothing about.

>94 JDHomrighausen: Oh, wow. So happy for your job opportunities!

>93 JDHomrighausen: It sounds like Going Clear has all the things I felt were missing in Inside Scientology. That's really fascinating about the "Islamic Jesus." I had no idea such a thing even existed!

>93 JDHomrighausen:
Well Islam and the Ahmadiyya Jama'at just went on my wish list :-)

Nice to see you back; I'll have to catch up with you next week because I'm getting ready to go out of town and don't have time to concentrate on anything!

Fascinating reviews and summer job prospects. Good luck! Wil you be taking classes at the same time? Or is that your fall schedule?

> 98

These are my spring classes -- my school is on quarter schedule. :)

Oh, I see. I went to school on a trimester system, so I never get these things right.

I admire your language skills, especially learning several simultaneously.

I'm so glad you enjoyed Going Clear. It was one of the best things I read/listened to last year. I found particularly interesting the portions of the book that dealt with methods of "reeducation" or otherwise punishing wayward members of the church - it becomes easier to understand how ordinary Scientologists (not celebrities) could be so financially, emotionally, and physically tied to the organization that they can't separate from it, even when they recognize they are being abused. I listened to that and then a new book about Charles Manson in succession and was fascinated by the many parallels between his life and L. Ron Hubbard's, their shared influences and similar tactics of gaining followers, and the different paths they ultimately went on.

Your classes sound great. They make me long for academia. I too am impressed by your ability to work with so many different languages at the same time and not get confused! Especially the Hebrew and the Arabic - when I first started Arabic after having done Hebrew years before, I read every alif as a vav because of the similarity between their shapes. My instructor was convinced I was an idiot!

The archives and research jobs sound fantastic! That's also a great list of courses.

When exactly do your quarters start and end? I'm trying to figure out whether you're doing Arabic, Latin, and Hebrew on top of all the courses listed there, or whether that's some other quarter.

Looks like a great upcoming semester. Fingers crossed for the research assistantship. Like others, I am in awe of your linguistic breadth.

Just because I'm doing several languages does not mean I am doing them well.... lol!

Thanks for your kind words, everyone. Indeed the issue of linguistics crossover is a real one. I have definitely mixed up Greek "mala" and Latin "mal" before. One means "more" and the other means "bad." When I was in first quarter Greek I had the opportunity to take up Sanskrit and passed it up because I was so worried about linguistic interference.

My university does not teach Hebrew so my ability to learn it has always been dependent on peoples' willingness to give me independent studies. Thankfully I had learned the basic grammar from a rabbi before transferring to uni so I didn't need to learn the tedious basics. My school does teach Arabic but I am taking a non-credit course in solely the Qur'anic kind. I may well be the only non-Muslim in the course. Kris, I will keep your fear in mind, but I am hoping that once I get past the writing system I will have an easy time with the grammar and the vocabulary.

Ah, that makes sense about the non-credit courses. I hope the Qur'anic Arabic course doesn't turn out to be full of people who already know a lot of Arabic. I definitely think the grammar and vocab will be easy for you, once you get past the script. There are times when studying multiple languages is actually a benefit! At one point I actually noticed my Hebrew improving slightly, despite a ten-year hiatus, because I had been studying Arabic and Akkadian in the meantime.

Zoe, the course is mainly for Muslims who have prayed and chanted the Qur'an their entire lives but never learned how to actually read it. (It's the Muslim equivalent of Jews who learn to sound out the Torah portion for their Bar/Bat Mitzvah but never learn the language.) And thank you for making me hopeful!

At this point I feel pretty ready to tackle any Indo-European or Semitic language. After my failed attempt at Tibetan I am too scared to try any Sino-Tibetan, particle-based languages.

"Going Clear" always makes me think of Leonard Cohen. Keep busy Jonathan - enjoying your thread.

I'm glad I could make you hopeful! I took three years of Arabic, and found that they tended to follow a pattern: at the beginning of the first semester, I would feel like I was a bit behind because other people had previous experience, or had spent the summer in an Arabic-speaking country while I had spent the summer forgetting things. But when it came down to it, experience learning other languages meant that I could grasp grammatical concepts much more quickly and basically just learn the language at a faster rate, so that I always did well in the end. I imagine your experience will be similar.

I mostly agree with you about languages that aren't Indo-European or Semitic, though. I once attended what was supposed to be a basic Chinese course, and it turned out to be for heritage speakers, and I basically didn't learn anything. On the other hand, I did enjoy introductory Sumerian.

Nice to get an update from you. Best of luck with your upcoming semester and research fellowship. i'll keep Vandiver in mind for if I ever get to Homer (I'll have to get through the psalms first)

Sumerian! I recently attended a neopagan ritual devoted to the Sumerian deities Innana and Dumuzi. (SF Bay Area = a national center of paganism.) It would be a fun language to learn.

Tibetan is very particle-based but it seemed to me like each particle had about fifty possible syntactic meanings so I just went crazy. Once upon a time I did two quarters of Chinese as well and while I enjoyed it, I don't think I will ever get back to it. There's just something so logical about inflected languages -- as a student of Greek and Latin I'm sure you know what I am talking about!

Oh, that ritual must have been interesting! And Sumerian is definitely fun to learn. It's not popular enough that there's a good recent textbook, and knowledge about it has been progressing rapidly since the last major textbook came out, while a lot still remains unknown, so all that combines to make it feel more like you're participating in puzzling out the language rather than just receiving definite established knowledge from the experts. Also, the ergativity just makes it feel so different; it presents a really different perspective to look at things primarily in terms of what's experiencing the action rather than what's causing the action.

I'm a big fan of logic in languages, and elsewhere. I like being able to learn a small set of rules with broad applications.

But the flip side of that means that it would be hard to learn without a teacher. On the other hand, studying Greek or Hebrew leads you to such a mass of material that it's hard to know where to start. I remember finding some good websites that I thought would help me with Hebrew -- then they turned out to be run by Kabbalists or fringe theorists. Not that Kabbalic interpretation of the mystical Alef-Bet is bad, but we philologically responsible antiquarians prefer to avoid it!

>112 JDHomrighausen: Yup, that's true. Although I still haven't found a basic Greek reference grammar that I like. I wish there were something other than Smyth.

I have similar problems with dubious websites all the time, especially when it comes to astrology. And it's even more awkward when odd theories pop up in conversation!

> 113

Zoe, have you checked out some of the Koine Greek grammars, such as A Greek Grammar of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature?

>114 JDHomrighausen: No, I haven't looked at those ones because I've always done classical Greek, but that's a good idea! Thank you.

I'm drooling with envy watching this convo between Zoe and JD. Sumerian and Akkadian.....

The Muslim Jesus: Sayings and Stories in Islamic Literature, ed. By Tarif Khalidi

Jesus is a one of the most important figures in Islam. In fact, the Qur’an mentions many biblical characters, including Noah, Moses, Abraham, David, Mary, and John the Baptist. Most of these figures are interpreted as prophets whose teaching is a precursor to the final revelation given to Muhammad. However, the depiction and devotional use of biblical characters changed and varied over the course of Islamic history. Khalidi takes one particular strand of Islamic story-telling about Jesus, the Sufi devotional strand, and collects them into one book. I read this for my Islamic Jesus class and it provoked quite a bit of discussion.

The Sufi Jesus, far from being a polemic figure to be refuted, is appropriated as a Sufi master. This Jesus is ascetic, as in fragment 220: “Christ said, ’The world is a bridge. Cross this bridge, but do not build upon it.’” As an ascetic, he hates women, since they are a primary distraction from the Sufi mystical path. Another thing about the Sufi Jesus is the lack of consistency when it comes to how Jesus is portrayed: sometimes very human, sometimes very divine. My professor speculated that Sufis had to take Jesus as their model because Muhammad was not an ascetic. Instead he was a wealthy political ruler who had several wives. Although he is the most revered human in Islam, these things make it difficult to morph him into a Sufi role model.

This collection and diversity is both the fun and the frustration of this book. Khalidi has done an invaluable service of finding fragments of stories about Jesus in Sufi devotional manuals from the 8th to the 18th century. He introduces and comments on many of them. But we also lose the sense of understanding the context of these fragments, which we would need to read countless Sufi text to achieve. I would recommend this book to anyone interested in the history of Muslim-Christian relations.

Nomad: From Islam to America: A Personal Journey Through the Clash of Civilizations by Ayaan Hirsi Ali

I mentiond above my Jesuit friend who was dying. Knowing I was taking a course on Islam, he gave two books by Hirsi Ali to me on his deathbed. So my expectations were high. After all, my friend was an intelligent person, not someone to cave in to religious fear-mongering or knee-jerk distrust of anything non-Christian. So I was surprised to find a remarkably unfair and simplistic book looking at the situation of Islam in the global realm.

One thing cannot be denied: Ayaan Hirsi Ali is an amazing woman. She grew up in a rigidly conservative Muslim family in Somalia, Kenya, and Ethiopia, always on the move because her dad was a political target. Her family was incredibly dysfunctional, and all her siblings in one way or another were left unable to function in the adult world. When her dad sent her from Kenya to Canada for an arranged marriage to a distant relatively, Hirsi Ali escaped, finding political asylum in Holland. There she found a culture where (as she puts it) questions were encouraged over dogmas, women were valued as more than just baby incubators, and positive change and innovation took place over oppressive and rigid tradition. She became a member of Parliament until moving to America, where she is a fellow at the American Enterprise Institute. All this before hitting 40 – wow.

So understandably, much of Hirsi Ali’s career is devoted to exposing radical Islam on a global scale. She wants her audience to feel that global Islam is a dangerous threat, that the line separating violent Islamists from civilian Muslims is dangerously thin.

This is where I must part with her. She always speaks of Muslims in the singular: “all Muslims” are conditioned to be violent, “Muslim women” are oppressed, etc. There is no problem that tribalism, extreme sexism, violence, and a lack of free speech are a part of the Islamic world. But she fails to qualify her statements. I have known half a dozen Muslim women, whose families come from three different Islamic countries, and only one of those six had the kind of upbringing Ali had. So already we can see that not every Muslim in the world is brought up in a family that fails to educate her, value her, etc.

Oh, and as for violence – I wonder what Hirsi Ali would make of John Esposito and Dalia Mogahed’s book What a Billion Muslims Really Think, in which they find that Muslims worldwide are not as radical as people like Hirsi Ali like to think. I’m also reminded of Reza Aslan’s point about “Muslim Rage,” that it has more to do with political agendas and regimes than being Muslim. Hirsi Ali does not argue from statistics. For example, she cites a few cases of honor killing (a young Muslim woman murdered by a family member to protect family honor from her sexual transgressions) in the U.S., then argues that honor killing must be a major problem among American Muslims. This reminded me of Richard Dawkins’ arguments that religion is intrinsically evil: find a few infuriating cases, get the reader angry, then jump to a broad conclusion. Basically, arguing from anecdotes.

Her statements about the veil were equally ridiculous. She says that the headscarf and veil “represent the mental and physical restrictions that so many Muslim women have to suffer.” Yes, in some (perhaps many) Muslim cultures, women are under immense social pressure to wear the veil, and may be legally or physically punished if they show their hair in public. But What a Billion Muslims Really Think shows that most Muslim women worldwide prefer some form of hair covering. My friends tell me that they feel more secure, more valued for their personality and intellect because men are not staring at their beauty. There’s just more ambiguity than Hirsi Ali wants to see.

So, no I would not recommend reading this book for a good portrait of global Islam. Hirsi Ali is far too much of an ideologue with all the attendant lack of self-criticism. Though she made some good points, she would have been more effective had she tempered them with some ambiguity.

Parallel Lives: Five Victorian Marriages by Phyllis Rose

Rose, a literary scholar, examines the marriages of five famous Victorian authors: Thomas Carlyle, John Stuart Mill, George Eliot, Charles Dickens, and John Ruskin. (As a side note, I find it interested that two of these men are never read today, while three still draw readers. Why?) All of these marriages were miserable in their own quirky ways. Rose explains that she was going to write a chapter of Charles and Emma Darwin, but their marriage was so happy and loving it would have been too boring to write about.

One of Rose’s main points is that human relationships and desires are far too idiosyncratic to all fit the monolithic model of marriage. Why, she asks, are we so willing to create our own life narrative and self-identity in every area of our life but marriage? This is especially true for the Victorians. Yet some of the people Rose examines just seemed to be misadjusted by their own neuroses. For example, Charles Dickens crudely shoved his wife aside at mid-age simply for not being good enough any more. This was after she bore him ten children, which apparently was her fault. Or art critic John Ruskin, who never consummated his marriage because a naked woman’s body disgusted him too much. Sometimes it’s not the institution of marriage that’s the problem, but the people who enter into it without self-examination.

A really good book - highly recommended - and this coming from someone usually not interested in the Victorian era.

Ruskin isn't read much any more, I think, but who's the other one?

Robert

I could be wrong, but I don't think Thomas Carlyle is read much any more.

Rose paints Ruskin as a very interesting character: highly intelligent but emotionally infantile. As a forty-year-old man he fell in love with a 10-year-old girl. If I were to read Ruskin now I would have a much harder time taking his writing seriously!

Maybe so regarding Carlyle, but he's still on my to be read list. He was mentioned in my schooling, and he was well regarded, although his racism had to be overlooked, by the transcendentalists. I've had one of his books in my hands to be read, but I never actually got rolling on it.

Wasn't Ruskin well regarded by Proust?

Robert

Congratulations on the job offers and good luck with languages, Jonathan. Not that luck need play a part with your industry and talent.

>118 JDHomrighausen:

But What a Billion Muslims Really Think shows that most Muslim women worldwide prefer some form of hair covering. My friends tell me that they feel more secure, more valued for their personality and intellect because men are not staring at their beauty.

If Muslims valued women for personality and intellect (assuming covering-up is directly connected to how much respect a woman gets) surely we'd see that expressed in the social conditions and statistics of those countries where veiling is obligatory or widespread? Instead, the trend seems to be rather the opposite--the more stringent the rules on veiling, the worse off the women are, by any number of indicators.

If men staring at women were a problem that can only be circumvented by veiling, why aren't women everywhere wrapping themselves in burqas?

I suggest that women who veil up because they feel more "secure" that way are living in societies in which men need to change their behaviour. People are the same everywhere and men who are attracted to women will peek, look and stare at women everywhere. What's different is what men feel free to do next or beyond looking, and how society regards their behaviour.

Jonathan, thanks for your thoughts on Ayaan Hirsi Ali.

I think it's also important to note that a lot of discussions about "Islam" ignore the role that cultural (rather than religious) practices play in people's lives and how these cultural practices shape the expression of religious beliefs or are layered on top of them and given a religious justification. The Quran doesn't lay out specifics of modest dress, culture must fill in the details; thus, the wide range of so-called "Islamic dress" we find on Muslim women. This same logic extends to their overall social and political conditions, which vary widely.

Three very different and fascinating books and reviews, Jonathan! I do hope you add them to the book pages, especially your review of Nomad, as I think you offer a nuanced and balanced view that would add depth to the mix. I enjoy your thread for both its intelligence and kindness.

I am reading a Russian novel at the moment that made me think of you. It is called Daniel Stein, Interpreter, and although I could say much about this fascinating novel, it is the man upon which the novel is based that I think would interest you. His name was Oswald Rufeisen, and he was born a Polish Jew. He survived WWII, in part by translating for the Gestapo, helped 300 Jews escape a ghetto, fought as a partisan, and after the war became a Carmelite monk then Catholic priest. He moved to Israel and applied for citizenship under the Law of Return, but was denied and appealed to the Israeli Supreme Court. His religious convictions were fascinating (at least to me, and perhaps to you). I won't try to summarize them, as I am still learning, but he seems like someone who struggled to build bridges between sects of Christianity and between Christianity and other religions. He was comfortable with his Jewish identity and his Christian faith and gave Catholic sermons in Hebrew. He seems more aligned with an early church setting (that of James?). Anyway, I thought you might find him interesting.

#124

Religion also shapes culture, though. It is a job to disentangle the two in any case, let alone in nigh-theocratic societies where dissent has no place whatsoever.

>119 JDHomrighausen: and 121, I've been trying to read a Carlyle book for some time now, Sartor Resartus. I enjoy it when I pick it up, but unfortunately, I don't think to pick it up very often. I think Ruskin is still taught in art and aesthetic related courses, but not so much in literature. ...two of these men maybe "two of these people"?

Rose's book is excellent and gives a great picture of that class in the Victorian world. I'm not sure though that self examination was a qualification for entering into marriage in those times! Perhaps that's why the Eliot/Lewes relationship was so successful; not being a legal marriage, they were more likely to think about how they lived.

So many thought-provoking responses. I hadn't heard the arguments you gave re: womens' dress and social position in Islamic cultures. If you have readings to recommend, I would be glad to delve into them.

I think another important point is that Muslims in Europe and America really are different. European Muslims tend to be poorer from what I understand, more likely to be laborers. By contrast, American Muslims tend to be more middle-class and working in white-collar professions such as technology. So there's far less anti-American sentiment among American Muslims because they don't exactly feel oppressed here the way they do in Europe. Hirsi Ali spent many years in Europe and seems to think her views on the tensions there apply to American just as easily.

First day of school today! The crop of classes looks very good, and much easier. No classes requiring one paper a week like Islamic Jesus. Whereas my Greek course last quarter (Homer) made us translate 50-60 lines of poetry a day, my Greek course this term has very short homework assignments and much more in-class sight reading.

>129 JDHomrighausen: I like the idea of in-class sight reading! One of my biggest issues with the teaching of ancient languages in general is that it tends to be very one-dimensional: after a year or two of basic introduction, pretty much all the ancient language courses I took just switched completely to prepared translation for both the coursework and most of the evaluation. I think a more varied approach, like that used in modern languages, is much more effective.

> 130

I agree with that. But this class might be the opposite extreme: 2-4 lines of prepared translation per class just seems too easy. Especially for a text that is easy in the first place.

The really interesting folk are the "conversational koine" adherents. There are a small minority of them in biblical studies. They believe that to truly internalize the language we must speak it conversationally. Reminds me of some of the odd looks I've gotten from Jews when I explain that biblical scholars only learn to read, and only in ancient Hebrew. Pedagogy takes all kinds!

What ancient languages have you studied?

Catching up and enjoying the conversation, especially about learning languages, something I wish I did more of.

>131 JDHomrighausen: I actually think speaking an ancient language would be really helpful for internalizing it! And I was disappointed when my Latin "prose composition" class turned out to be just translating given sentences into Latin rather than trying to convey our own ideas more broadly.

I've studied Latin, Greek, Hebrew, Akkadian, and Sumerian, to various degrees. And I definitely found that simultaneously studying Arabic, in a class that required both writing and speaking, helped a lot with internalizing certain Akkadian rules.

Life of the Buddha (Clay Sanskrit Library) by Ashvaghosha, trans. Patrick Olivelle

Asvaghosha’s book, written in the first or second century CE, is a literary epic in poetic Sanskrit telling the life story of the Buddha. I really enjoyed the ambiguity with which the Buddha and his choice to renounce (aka abandon) his wife, son, and father were related. Unlike the doctrinal literature of the Tipitika, Asvaghosha seems interested in making a good story rather than merely collecting doctrinal or traditional vignettes of the Buddha’s life.

Inanna, Queen of Heaven and Earth: Her Stories and Hymns from Sumer by Diane Wolkstein and Samuel Noah Kramer

Definitely one of the most beautiful tales I have read in some time – demands retelling. Wolkstein (a professor storyteller) and Kramer (a Sumerologist) team up to give a poetic rendering of ancient Sumerian texts detailing the myth-cycle of the fertility goddess Inanna and her husband, harvest god Dumuzi. Completely with Sumerian art, footnotes, and Wolkstein’s commentary. I am reading this again later this year!

Walking With The Gods: Modern People Talk About Deities, Faith, and Recreating Ancient Traditions by W. D. Wilkerson

As a dual-major in religious studies and classics, I have recently become interested in contemporary polytheistic movements. Various groups, often billing themselves as “reconstructionist,” seek to revive the worship of Norse, Greek, Roman, Mesopotamian, Egyptian, and other ancient pantheons. Wilkerson, a scholar of folklore, seeks to tell the stories of these people in this ethnography of 120 practitioners. Her book begins with an analytical chapter, continues with chapters on selected individual participants with extensive quotes of their interviews, and ends with an epilogue on her own journey into polytheism. I picked this book up for a paper I am writing on Hellenismos, the modern reconstruction of the polytheism of ancient Greece; so I did not read all of the interviews, only those with Hellenismos practitioners.

The good: Neopaganism is already a seriously under-represented topic in modern religious studies. But my impression is that reconstructionist groups are even more under-studied. In pop culture and in academia, “pagan” usually seems equivalent to “Wiccan,” which leads some of the people in this ethnography to reject the term “pagan” entirely. I really appreciate that Wilkerson is taking a big first step to understanding those who seek to worship the ancient deities. (The book was just released this month.)

There were some surprises. For example, these contemporary polytheists differ on the extent to which they see the gods as mysterious or relatable. Some think there is much that is ineffable the gods, but others think that each god is well-explained by their ancient myths. Some attempt to stick closely to the ancient myths, while others have “personal gnosis” of a deity that may add to or even contradict the ancient myths of that deity. Many of the polytheists in her study also venerate ancestors and local nature spirits. There are also differences on the nature of the gods: are they ontologically individual, or are they all aspects of one god? Are they really “out there” or are they merely archetypal manifestations of our collective unconscious?

As an example of some of the testimonies in this book, I will quote one “Herakles,” who is identified by a pseudonym as he lives in a conservative part of America. I quote him because the paper I am writing is on Zeus, and he gives the bets quote about Zeus in the book. He says:

I also feel … an affinity, with Zeus. Kind of look at Him as a father-type figure. There have been a couple times when my own father and I were not getting along and I would pray to Zeus to give me some understanding of what a father is going through, and maybe partake of a little of His wisdom.

Herakles also quips that “there is a lot more to the Gods and Goddess then there’s dreamed up in Homer’s philosophy” – my favorite line in the book.

That said, Wilkerson’s book has some serious issues. Although she is an academic, her book was published by what appears to be her own tiny press. It seriously needs some editing work. The book was just far too long, and would have been better organized by theme rather than participant. Although she describes the book as an “ethnography,” she lacks the kind of analysis an academic ethnography would have, including any kind of suspicion or questioning of her participants, or connection of her themes to other ethnographic literature.

Also, her introduction contains some anti-Christian polemic that felt unfair and uncharitable. It’s not that I disagreed with her opinions on Christianity. She makes some good points, powerful points, about my religion. Yes, the Abrahamic traditions have allowed ecological destruction. (That said, ecological spirituality is on the rise in liberal parts of Christendom.) But when she makes the claim that the Abrahamic God is a wicked and wrathful being, she seems to forget that ancient deities have wrathful sides as well, recorded quite abundantly in ancient myth! I also saw much of the reverse - pro-polytheist apologetic - in the book, as if she also is trying to prove that polytheists are rational and sane people. Neither of these polemics are suitable for a social-scientific work.

So while I did enjoy this book, and learn quite a bit from it, it also needs some work. I would have published her ethnography in a more academic tone with an academic press and published her own polemic and her own story in a more informal venue. And I will end on a high note: her epilogue detailing her life was by far my favorite part of the book. I was entranced by her stories of dreams giving her information about her ancestors, never heard by her but later verified. I was fascinated at the synchronicity of her introduction to Voodou and her fears surrounding its cultural appropriation. Wilkerson could write another book just on her polytheism. I hope she does.

You read such fascinating books and they are nearly always books I will almost certainly never read so I appreciate your introducing me to these topics, and I always enjoy your reviews.

Great review of the Wilkerson book. Wolkstein and Kramer's Inanna is wonderful. Unfortunately Diane Wolkstein died last year, but there is a DVD of her performance of Inanna which is very evocative -- I'm sure you'd enjoy it: http://dianewolkstein.com/shop/

>135 JDHomrighausen:, How fascinating. I have always been curious about this, but it doesn't sound like this is the book to pick up.

Thanks everyone!

Jane, I was not aware of that, although I saw bits of it on youtube.

Kris, there is a small contingent of scholars looking at contemporary paganism, but my impression is that reconstructionist movements are understudied. If you're curious, some people to check out on neopaganism in general Sarah Pike and Sabina Magliocco. I did come across this book today, written by a social scientist who practices the religion she studies: Nine Worlds of Seid-Magic: Ecstasy and Neo-Shamanism in North European Paganism. I hope to check it out soon.

>139 JDHomrighausen:, Thanks Jonathan. Have you read anything by Bart Ehrman? I heard him interviewed about his new book, How Jesus Became God: The Exaltation of a Jewish Preacher from Galilee, on the radio today & it sounds really interesting. I have hardly studied any Christianity but I am always curious.

>140 fannyprice:
I've found both Bart Ehrman and Karen Armstrong both write accessibly for those not familiar with Christianity. Armstrong has also written good books about Jerusalem, Islam, Muhammed, and the Buddha.

> 140, 141

I've actually never read any Bart Ehrman, which is a shame. But when I do I intend to read the other side. Ehrman isn't inaccurate, but he has a particular slant, and reading some more traditional scholars alongside him is a good counterbalance. :)

Prometheus Bound by Aeschylus, translated by James Scully and C. John Herington

Prometheus bound is Aeschylus' play about Prometheus, the minor Greek deity who stole fire from the gods and gave it to humankind. For this act of rebellion, he is punished by Zeus. He is chained to a rock and forced to endure a crow eating his internal organs every day. By night he regenerates, never to die and never to escape the crow. He only gets freed by Herakles (Hercules), who is strong enough to break the chains binding Prometheus.

As a classics major, I encounter a lot of ancient literature. And much of that literature exists in bland public-domain translations from the late 1800s. Even worse, some translators render beautiful ancient poetry into prose. I avoid as much of that crap as possible.

This translation is just the opposite. The product of a collaboration between Scully (a poet) and Herington (a classicist), this rendering is a very beautiful even if a bit loose. See this speech by the chorus:

"May Zeus never turn
His world
wide
power against my mind
may I never
hesitate
to approach the gods
with holy feasts
of blood drenched bulls
where Father Ocean, our father, streams and streams

may I never
say a sinful word

may this be ever
engraved in my mind
not melt
as words on wax

Nothing is sweeter
than life
lived
as long as this may be

always to hope
and feast, keep
the heart while it throbs
alive, lit up
with happiness
O but my blood runs cold, I'm cold, seeing you

raked over with
ten thousand tortures

you won't cower for Zeus,
you've a mind of your own
and you
honor humans

too much! Prometheus!"

Definitely not your standard translation!

I really like how Aeschylus brings out some of the nuances in this story. We're not sure whether or not Prometheus is telling the truth about his motives - he claims he wanted to help humans. We are also not sure whether or not Zeus acted justly or unjustly in punishing Prometheus. Was he being petty and vindictive, or just setting an example for those rebelling against his authority?

I like this edition, because it also has forewards from the translators and an appendix with fragments from the other two plays in the trilogy. (Greek plays entered in the Dionysian theater-competitions were always in a trilogy, which need not be one storyline. "Prometheus Bound" is the first of this trilogy, and the only one we still have. The second and third plays, "Prometheus Unbound" and "Prometheus Firebearer," exist only in scattered quotations and paraphrases from other authors.)

I'll leave with this statement from the translator:

"This is one play that seems to have been written with the head, hands, and heart: bunched, impacted, in the solar plexus. Ideally it would not be read or seen, but undergone." (25)

>142 JDHomrighausen:
Yes I agree Ehrman has a certain slant. He and Armstrong are both populist writers, but they are a good entry into the field. Then, other, more traditional scholars can be added. Footnotes and bibliographies are great places to learn what other books to read. ;-)

Wow, that is intense. Thanks for sharing the excerpt.

Thanks for the tips - Armstrong was the first writer on religion I enjoyed. Her A History of God was one of the things that made me decide to major in religion, but I confess that since then, I haven't read a single other book of hers.

I promise, I am not dead. School is coming to a close. I have been reading some good books. :)

How are y'all?

Looking forward to those posts, Jonathan.

Nice to see you, Jonathan.

School is coming to a close.
That's a Happy Thought! :)

Emergence: Labeled Autistic by Temple Grandin

The hardest thing in life is to unravel the unevenness of one's mind.

This early book by Grandin describes her childhood and the factors that led to her making the cattle chute. Surely by now you have heard of her innovations in slaughterhouse design. Though she has autism and has a hard time reading people, she has a powerful ability to understand touch and read animals, and she uses this to design slaughterhouses that are efficient and humane. This comes from her own experience growing up, where she tried out a cattle chute at her aunt's ranch and found that it relaxed her anxiety problems. She needed the combination of trust and surrender it provided, which she got from a cattle chute even as she had problems with human touch as a child.

Grandin is such a fascinating and admirable figure. But I also feel ambivalent about this book because she implicitly supports feedlots. I am not a fan of factory farming in general, and I identify as a "flexatarian." Perhaps she has spoken about this more recently, but in this book she seems to have no problems supporting the industry. Otherwise a great book.

Thanks for the responses, everyone!

When Dead Tongues Speak: Teaching Beginning Greek and Latin, ed. by John Gruber-Miller

Perhaps a bit more pedantic, but those of you into linguistics might enjoy my review. I posted it on my blog:

http://jdhomie.com/2014/05/25/review-when-dead-tongues-speak-teaching-beginning-...

>153 JDHomrighausen: Well, that was an auto-purchase. It's a good thing Amazon has that convenient one-click button ;)

I didn't read your whole review because I'm planning to read the book, but I've always wondered why ancient languages are taught so rigidly and seemingly less effectively than modern languages. Why is the idea of putting together our own sentences (either orally or in writing) considered so crazy? Why is there no room for anything except translation? Why do we learn all the grammar and then move on to reading with minimal grammar discussion, instead of going back and forth and using one to reinforce the other?

I've been sad to realize that my PhD program, in an institute without undergraduates, doesn't really provide any opportunities for teaching at all. But I hope I'll be able to teach ancient languages one day.

>151 JDHomrighausen: Grandin has repeatedly stated that humane treatment of animals is what she favors no matter where or how the animals are housed. I read or watched something with her when she discussed the state of industrial poultry and pig farming....both less humane than the cattle industry (now).

slaughterhouses that are efficient and humane seems somewhat of an oxymoron. They can be efficient and efficiency is certainly a research concern as it reduces costs for the producer and results in a better product, but humane seems a real stretch. After all, the whole goal of the exercise is to kill the cattle. I haven't read this book, but herding cattle into chutes is not an easy matter and certainly isn't designed to improve the animals' dispositions. Taking her own feelings about the chute and projecting them onto animals seems somewhat egocentric to say the very least.

Enjoying your thread although I don't often comment.

>155 lesmel: I once visited a chicken abattoir where the creatures went from flapping their wings to pieces in saran wrapped packages in no time. Efficient definitely, and given the time involved probably as humane as could be, but I have no idea how they were transported to the abattoir or how they were raised.

It seems odd to me to worry about how food animals are treated and then eat them. That seems the least humane part of the whole process.

>153 JDHomrighausen: Interesting review of language learning. I went back to Latin after school and found it oddly relaxing to try translating. Unfortunately, I had no one to tell me how accurate I was. I seem to have lost my grammar and dictionary along the way and am hoping they will turn up during my current sorting bout.

The Sparrow by Mary Doria Russell

Russell’s novel, recommended to me by two friends, details a failed Jesuit mission to the foreign planet Rakhat for evangelical and scientific purposes. I am not usually a science fiction person but I loved this novel for its deep meditations on the human experience of God.

The novel begins with Fr. Emilio Santos, the sole survivor of the expedition to Rakhat, who is back on earth and in miserable pain. It alternates back and forth between the events leading up to the expedition and the aftermath of Santos’ recovery. So we already know at the outset that the mission is a disaster. The plot centers around on key question: how?

One of the themes I really loved in this novel is Santos’ search for God. He is described as not being much of a mystic – but then he goes to Rakhat and feels that this is what God has led him to his entire life. Then the mission fails, his friends all die, and he is crushed. Is this really God’s plan for him? After all, Jesuit spirituality calls one to “find God in all things.” The novel doesn’t really resolve the issue. It made me think about the question without forcing me into an answer. It leaves Santos’ faith ambiguous at the end.

I also really liked Russell’s comparison of the Jesuit missions to South America and Asia in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries with the mission to Rakhat. In both cases there were immense problems of cultural translation. I mean, how do you explain the Eucharist to a group of cannibals? Would they be repulsed by it or fascinated for the wrong reasons? I think she evokes so well the absolute fear the Jesuits in South America and Asia must have felt, at the mercy of foreign cultures they knew so little.

Last but not least, there is a scene where one of the characters, a woman happily married for forty years, says something profound about love. It was something like:
“I’ve been married to five different men, all named George. Every ten years I wake up and find that my husband has changed and I have changed. I have to decide: do I want to be married to this new man?”
There were many other conversations in the book about love, and I especially like how Russell portrayed celibacy as a full human choice with struggles and joys.

The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien

Prequel to my December-January read of LOTR. I enjoyed this book a lot but didn’t have anything particularly thoughtful to say about it.

Nice to see you back, Jonathan.

It's nice to BE back.

This summer, I have my dream job: working in the university archives. There's a steep learning curve but actually getting to go down into the vault is worth it.

Most of this summer I am reading sacred poetry: in Greek, Latin, Arabic, Hebrew, Old English, and English.

The Penelopiad: The Myth of Penelope and Odysseus by Margaret Atwood

As a classics major, I'm fairly familiar with Homer. So I was hoping for something really stellar, this being my first time reading Atwood. My previous experience with the Myths series has been good -- in 2012 I read Lion's Honey, a retelling of the Samson and Delilah story, and found it thoughtful and provocative. This book is a retelling of the Odyssey, from the point of view of Penelope and the twelve maidservants who were hanged.

I won't say this is my favorite book ever, but there were some interesting points. I like how Atwood took a very iconoclastic angle to the story, enabled by the fact that the narrator is in the underworld beyond the scope of the gods. It's very easy to read the Odyssey and be taken in my Odysseus' story, reading it uncritically and being amazed at his bravado. Atwood takes a different angle: perhaps Odysseus exaggerated his stories. Perhaps Penelope covered up her adultery. They are both masters of deception and trickery, well-matched in cleverness, and Atwood's novella reminds me to read BOTH Penelope and Odysseus' own stories with a grain of salt.

I really liked the setting in Hades. It lets Penelope set aside all the falsehoods of the human realm: piety for the gods, for the institution of marriage, for her husband. She’s more honest and flippant.

It reminds me a lot of Sartre’s No Exit: hell is other people, and we are stuck with the pettiness of people for eternity. I felt bad for Penelope’s inability to get closure, to apologize to the hanged maidens, to come to some finality in her on-off relationship with her husband, to resolve anything with her rival Helen.

Yay! You're back! :)

The Sparrow sounds like quite an interesting mix of sci fi and philosophy/religion. Did it remind you at all of Endo's Silence and the struggle with faith?

I read The Hobbitt years ago; liked it, but never could get any further in the series. Like the movies, though.

Aeschylus' Prometheus Bound, translated by David Grene

One of my summer projects is to read multiple translations of Greek tragedies. Above I reviewed one translation of Aeschylus' Prometheus Bound. Reading this one gave me new insights.

Grene's translation is far less freeform. Take the passage I quoted above:

"May Zeus never turn
His world
wide
power against my mind
may I never
hesitate
to approach the gods
with holy feasts
of blood drenched bulls
where Father Ocean, our father, streams and streams

may I never
say a sinful word

may this be ever
engraved in my mind
not melt
as words on wax"

Here is Grene's translation:

"May Zeus never, Zeus that all
the universe controls, oppose
his power against my mind:
may I never dallying
be slow to give me worship at
the sacrificial feasts
when the bulls are killed beside
quenchless Father Ocean:
may I never sin in word:
may these precepts still abide
in my mind nor melt away."

Grene's translation preserves the sputtering, unpunctuated quality of the other, but in a far more muted fashion. Reading this play a second time gave me a much stronger sense of despair; every character is fated to fall and suffer, from Prometheus to Zeus. There is also a stilted quality to the dialogue, a very formal and perhaps artificial tone, that evokes ritual far more than theatre. It feels liturgical to me. In my next reading of Aeschylus I want to look out for whether or not this tone shows up in his other plays.

Medieval and Modern Greek by Robert Browning

Last summer when I took New Testament Greek at the local Orthodox church, I was berated for not speaking Greek like a modern. Of course, nobody had ever told me that modern Greek was pronounced differently from ancient – though I had some vague sense that the language was still alive. Browning’s book, written specifically with classicists in mind, aims to fill the gap in knowledge of the history of the Greek language from late antiquity until the present.

One of the major themes of this book is language as self-identity. Throughout the medieval and modern history of the Greek language, Greek speakers and writers tried to draw a strict line between the “katherenousa” (elite) and demotic (popular) uses. Educated speakers and authors of elite forms of Greek, trying to preserve the glorious heritage of Attic forms, didn’t even realize that they got it wrong much of the time. The supposed purity of the language was also tainted by centuries of linguistic borrowing from Russian, Italian, and Turkish.

Browning spends the last chapter chronicling the events of the 1960s political revolution in Greece and the national adoption of the demotic tongue. He frets that Greek dialects may disappear forever. Given that this book was written in 1969 and revised in 1983, I wonder how an updated edition would look. Still, a useful and readable guide to a topic on which there is little in English.

JD, you read some of the most interesting books! Glad to have you and your reviews back.

The Browning book sounds fascinating. I have no Greek, but I love language history.

Also, congrats on your dream job!

Enjoyed catching up. In summary I can only echo AuntieCleo in 165 - you do read the most interesting books.

Great reviews as always Jonathan. I'm a fan

Hi everyone. Been a lot of work this summer. Learning languages is lowering my reading count but upping my ability to enjoy the stuff I can comprehend!

My Name is Asher Lev by Chaim Potok

I do not know what the Master of the Universe has waiting for us. Certain things are given, and it is for man to use them to bring goodness into the world. The Master of the Universe gives us glimpses, only glimpses. It is for us to open our eyes wide.

Having read Potok’s most famous book, The Chosen, I knew this would be good. This novel follows the life of a fictitious Jewish artist who is trapped between the world of his conservative Hasidic family and the secular, ‘sinful’ world of art. Asher Lev can’t figure out his dilemma: if God gave him the ability to do great art, then why does it lead to such immoral results? Why must his portrayals of two stock tropes of Western art — nudes and crucifixion scenes — horrify his parents?

I looked at my right hand, the hand with which I painted. There was power in that hand. Power to create and destroy. Power to bring pleasure and pain. Power to amuse and horrify. There was in that hand the demonic and the divine at one and the same time. The demonic and the divine were two aspects of the same voce. Creation was demonic and divine. Creativity was demonic and divine. Art was demonic and divine. The solitary vision that put new eyes into gouged-out sockets was demonic and divine. I was demonic and divine. Asher Lev, son of Aryeh and Rivkeh Lev, was the child of the Master of the Universe and the Other Side.

Potok, who was himself a rabbi, seems to be asking the questions of his own life. It reminded me quite a bit of biblical narratives, of Jews living in the Persian, Greek, and Roman worlds. How can we sing the Lord’s song in a strange land? Lev does so by keeping his Jewish customs. He continues his prayers, his dress, his synagogue attendance, and living in his community. Yet he also destroys his community’s care for him by painting “Brooklyn Crucifixion,” featuring his mom as the crucified one caught between his father’s sternness and his own libertine artistic life. I didn’t get the feeling that Potok himself provides an answer. I like the book more that way.

I have become alien to him. In some incomprehensible manner, a cosmic error had been made. The line of inheritance had been perverted. A demonic force had thrust itself into centuries of transmitted responsibility. He could not bear its presence. And he no longer knew how to engage it in battle.

Glad you like Potok! :)

Great review!

>168 JDHomrighausen: The Chosen is one of my favorite stories/movies. This book sounds "deeper" than that one. Great review!

California Apricots: The Lost Orchards of Silicon Valley by Robin Chapman

I got this book for Christmas from a family friend. I’ve never read anything about local history before. Although it lacked a certain level of analysis or polish, I still enjoyed this book chronicling the rise and fall of the apricot orchards of what is not called the Silicon Valley.

The rise of apricot and peach growing in the Santa Clara valley came about because of the perfect climate. Even by the late 1800s, we had some of the most highly developed apricot growing operations in the country. Through the depression, this industry was relatively stable, providing migrant workers and high school students with summer work during the harvest. It was only post- World War II, when young people sought more white-collar jobs, that the tech industries began to take over Santa Clara valley’s land. Now most of the growing has moved to the Central Valley!

My new job as a student assistant in university archives has been giving me a great crash course in local history. This book just continues it. I’m glad I got a glimpse of this part of the past under my own feet. (I live in San Jose.) I’m also glad I am not a grower myself; this journal entry of a grower’s widow from 1936 explains it all:

July 4: The children are all here and we are doing what we can to make Papa comfortable. Francer Mercer {a nurse} came at five and gave him a quieting injection. Men picking cots today.
July 5: Sunday. Warm today. All of us at home. Doing what we can for Papa. Frances Mercer came up afternoon to help. Papa passed away at five o’clock.
July 10: James Dale finished our apricots at noon.

Some updates ---

I have started dating someone new. She likes books. So now I have an incentive to buy more books.
By the way, I did the tally -- I have 2100 books in my apartment. Oops.

My book count has actually been going down lately. I'm spending much time learning languages. This summer is Latin, Old English, Greek, Arabic, and Hebrew. For each one I have joined or created a study group of like-minded scholars. The reading ranges from rote to exhilarating: Wheelock's, Anglo-Saxon poetry, Homer, Qur'an, and minor prophets. So I am reading less but reading it far more thoroughly!

The reading group sounds spectacular. Enjoyed your review of My Name is Asher Lev. Those excerpts take me right back to the rhythmic feel of the book.

What an interesting job to have an opportunity to learn about local history. And I continue to be impressed by your effort to learn so many languages.

Those reading groups sound amazing!

I know what you mean about reading less but reading more thoroughly. I just wish I could switch between the two reading modes more easily; I feel like so much of my training was in close reading that I can just never get through anything quickly.

Also, yay for dating people who like books! I like to imagine that one day I'll have an office providing additional book storage, so my current overcrowding is only temporary....

Do you read books? Not quite the first question you might ask of someone new who you were thinking of dating, but it's gotta be fairly high up on the list of priorities. Good luck to you Jonathan.

>177 baswood: I make it pretty clear I'm a reader and that I expect my potential date to be the same. It doesn't have to be the same stuff, or as much as I read. But he does have to be a reader. Otherwise, we won't understand each other.

And yes, good luck JD

Oh, I knew what I was getting into. We've been good friends for a while. The physical attraction was literally the last thing to develop. The only hitch is her cat allergy, but hey, nobody's perfect!

I have started dating someone new. She likes books. So now I have an incentive to buy more books.

Uh-oh! :)

>177 baswood: >178 AuntieClio: I've converted my sweetie into a book lover. He's a slow reader, mainly because he has a lot of other interests, but he's reading many more books now than he did when we first got together. But in all my dating years I never met anyone who read as much as I do.

John of the Cross: Doctor of Light and Love by Kieran Kavanaugh

You should never seek your satisfaction in what you understand about God, but in what you do not understand about him.

One of the best classes I have taken in college is Mysticism in Catholicism. For a quarter-long (10-week) class, we covered a LOT, from St. Paul to Thomas Merton, with centering prayer instruction thrown in. But we never got around to St. John of the Cross.

Fast forward to now, when I am dating a gal who is fluent in Spanish. I turned her on to St. John of the Cross, a 16th-century Spanish mystic, Carmelite reformer, and poet. So we’ve been doing some reading about him.

John of the Cross, born Juan de Yepes, came from a poor family. His father died when he was a small child, and because his father was disowned by his family, his mom was unable to get any of them to help her make ends meet. After being educated by the Jesuits out of charity, he joined the Carmelites, then later the Carmelite reform (the Discalced, or shoeless). Imprisoned in a tower by his ecclesiastical rivals in the mainstream Carmelite order, he was tortured and starved for months on end. This experience propelled him to write his mystical poetry. Like the biblical Song of Songs or the English John Donne, San Juan’s poems combine erotic imagery with mystical union. He has many minor poems, but the three most famous are “The Living Flame of Love,” “The Spiritual Canticle,” and “The Dark Night.”

The last poem is perhaps the most well-known contribution San Juan has made to the mystical lexicon. Christian mystics had spoken of the purgative stage of union with God before — a stage where the soul is emptied of images and concepts, a stage that is painful but necessary for closer union with God. So “la noche oscura” is not a dark or depressing time. In fact, San Juan sees the dark night as a very illuminated time. In the dark night, we come to God as God is, freed from concepts and intellectualizations. It feels dark because we are not used to such immediate contact with God. It should be called the bright night, not the dark night!

This book provides a good overview of this and other aspects of John’s path to God. But it is hardl a complete guide. Kieran Kavanaugh, a Carmelite of fifty-plus years, has made his life’s work the creation of standard editions of John of the Cross and Teresa of Avila’s works. He has admitted to not having much Spanish background, but he co-translated the works with Spain-born fellow Carmelite Otilio Rodriguez. So while this book is good to understand the theology of San Juan, Kavanaugh seems unaware of other key aspects of the man’s poems, such as their literary merit. So while I enjoyed this book, and it is a useful summary of San Juan’s lengthy and tedious prose works, it is not the last book one should read!

John of the Cross is a witness to the enormous human ability “to taste and see the goodness of God” and affirm that God exists in the incomprehensible mystery of communion among persons. He found the record of God’s self-revelation replete with images, metaphors, and narratives about the divine relationship to us and chose those same figures to express his own experience and teaching, but he did so as an act of praise that places his reader in the presence of the living God.

I don't expect I will read that, but interesting.

How to Read the Qur'an by Carl Ernst

After reading Michael Sells’ Approaching the Qur’an: The Early Revelations, I wanted another book that would help me understand the Qur’an from a literary-historical perspective. Ernst, a scholar of Islam at UNC, made headlines in 2002 when (under his recommendation) the university assigned Sells’ book as required reading for all freshman students. Ernst held the audacious belief that students should understand the religion of the terrorists America was fighting against — that we should learn something about Islam beyond the headlines about al Qaeda.

In that spirit, he has written this book, a kind of “Qur’an as literature” book explaining the genesis of the text and outlining what he calls a “post-Orientalist” approach to the text. Ernst wants to use the historical and literary tools of European Enlightenment scholarship while still respecting traditional Islamic modes of reading the Qur’an. This book is an argument for that fusion and a look at some of the scholars, such as Fred Donner, Andrew Rippin, Michel Cuypers, and Jane Dammen McAuliffe, who are doing so.

Muslims believe that the Qur’an was revealed verbatim to Muhammad from 610 to 632. Yet Muslims acknowledge that the surahs (chapters) of the Qur’an can be categorized by the period in which they were revealed during the prophet’s life. Generally there are three main categories: the early Meccan surahs, the middle and later Meccan surahs, and the Medinan surahs. These three categories of surahs differ in length, structure, and main themes. The early Meccan surahs, written when Muhammad was just beginning his prophetic ministry, tend to be short and highly apocalyptic. Later surahs expanded and focused more on the revelation’s legitimacy and on retellings of biblical narratives. By the Medinan period, when Muhammad was the leader of a powerful political-religious movement, surahs grew even longer and began to include rules for the newly formed religion.

Can you tell that I enjoyed this book?

But there are loose ends in Ernst. For example — one traditional Muslim hermeneutic for the Qur’an is called the doctrine of abrogation. This is how Muslims harmonize verses in the Qur’an that appear to contradict. The verse revealed later takes precedent and supersedes the earlier one. Ernst argues that this approach to the text is too propositional — it takes verses out of context, piecemeal, like a fundamentalist Christian reads the Bible. He argues instead that when read in context, many of these supposedly contradictory verses are in fact just parts of a multifaceted tapestry. Is he right? I am not sure. I do not know enough to assess. But this book has given me a lot to think about!

Two plays by Aeschylus —

Persians, trans. by Philip Vellacott and Janet Lembke with C. J. Herington
Seven Against Thebes, trans. by Philip Vellacott and Anthony Hecht with Helen H. Bacon

I’ve been meaning to write reviews on these for some time, but I am going to not put too much energy into it. Suffice it to say that these were interesting but tough plays, though reading them twice made them make more sense. I wanted to read all the Greek tragedies this summer, but had to set it aside for other projects.

I enjoyed all the translators, especially the “Greek Tragedy in New Translations” series, which pairs a distinguished poet with a classicist to make translations excelling in accuracy and beauty:
http://www.librarything.com/publisherseries/Greek+Tragedy+in+New+Translations

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone by J. K. Rowling

When I was a teen people often told me I looked like Harry Potter. I don't see the resemblance, though I have messy hair and circular glasses.

In moments of dark humor I would respond that yes, actually, my parents did die when I was small child in a car accident, and yes, I was raised for several years by my dysfunctional and oafish aunt and uncle, and yes, my brother does have a scar in the middle of his forehead.

So I guess you could say I should read the Harry Potter series. I read the first five as a kid, but at the urging of a close friend, I'm trying to finish them this summer. There's a lot in there that resonates with my life, though it would have done so more were I younger.

There's really nothing else to say about this book that hasn't been said. Book two is on the horizon now...

My favorite quote:
"Your mother died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn't realize that love as powerful as your mother's for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign ... to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin."

>186 JDHomrighausen: Good quote choice, Jonathan. One day I will do a reread of the series.

Great to catch up with your reading, Jonathan.

The Selfish Gene by Richard Dawkins



As a religious studies major, I am pretty illiterate in science. My girlfriend, a molecular biology major, is far more literate in my field than I am in hers. I am taking on myself to read popular science books so I can understand her.

I have to admit I was initally reluctant to read this book. I read The God Delusion for a class called "Darwin and God," and I wrote a paper analyzing Dawkins' rhetoric. When it comes to religion, he is very polarizing and tends to draw big conclusions based on 1-2 examples. He has also said stupid things about feminism. In general I see him as someone who is not very aware of his own privilege, and is perhaps given to mansplaining. But I decided to give him a second chance, in the hope that he would be a better author within his own field.

Dawkins dives into the debate in evolutionary biology between individual and group selection, arguing for a third type known as gene selection. He characterizes genes as “selfish” in that they seek to propagate themselves and guide their organisms’ (“survival machines”) behavior in ways that maximize their own continuation. After setting out the basics of genetics and explaining his theory, he applies it to his area of expertise, ethology (animal behavior), looking at examples of altruism at the level of individuals, kin, and intra- and inter-species interaction. In his last famous chapter, he coins the term “meme” and speculates about how the idea of genetic replication and evolution might apply to cultural evolution.

I don’t know enough about evolutionary biology to assess this book, but I can say that Dawkins is really good at explaining examples without math. His discussions of optimal clutch size, evolutionarily stable strategies, parent-offspring and offspring-offspring conflicts for resources, and the battle of the sexes stick in my mind! Sometimes his descriptions can verge on poetic:

A society of ants, bees, or termites achieves a kind of individuality at a higher level. Food is shared to such an extent that one may speak of a communal stomach. Information is shared so efficiently by chemical signals and by the infamous ‘dance’ of the bees that the community behaves almost as if it were a unit with a nervous system and sense organs of its own. (185)

For people with a better understanding of biology than mine, please explain: how has Dawkins’ theory stood up over time? Is the “selfish gene” still a viable hypothesis?

As for memes, Dawkins talks about this topic in The God Delusion as well. In that book as in this, he describes beliefs about God and the afterlife as cultural parasites that linger in peoples’ minds because they explain complicated questions with simple, intuitive answers. Just as biological fitness is not related to an individual’s or species’ beauty or morality, so memetic fitness is unrelated to whether or not a meme is accurate.

Still, I can’t help but think the concept of a meme is a hollow idea. It’s a nice-sounding idea, but I kept thinking: what does it actually explain? What does it predict? I don’t think Dawkins delivers on this. I could be wrong, but my understanding is that anthropologists haven’t found the idea useful for explaining culture.

Overall, a good book, as long as one realizes it is probably dated and tries to ignore Dawkins’ weird tangents on God and the working-class.

>189 JDHomrighausen:, An evangelical atheist I once worked for gave me a copy of The God Delusion and I found it to be lacking in many of its arguments against the proof of God. It's been several years since I read it, but as time has worn on, I find Dawkins to be an atheist extremist. And, as with all extremists of any group, he gives atheists a bad name.

He said in an interview, (paraphrasing here), "I don't believe because it doesn't make any sense to believe." Well Richard, that's why it's called Faith, exactly because it doesn't make any sense.

>Dawkins

I read The God Delusion in 2009, at the recommendation of a friend. As an atheist, I expected that I would like the book. However, I found the author, as appeared from the reading, such a self-centred, unsympathetic person, that I felt he was not in a position to argue the case.

In my view, regardless of whether a deity can be proven to exist, religion may have a soothing effect on people's consciousness and is a cultural stabilisator (except when it leads to religious wars, which can not always attributed to the faith).

I am also abhorred by Dawkins concept of the "selfish gene". Undeniably, it is an interesting viewpoint, and perhaps the author was unable to control the way in which the concept has spun into an anthropomorphical approach to seeing genes. Although the idea is very pervasive, future generations will probably look back and point out that the concept was a reflection of the self-centredness of our era, and its author.

I agree with you on the uselessness of the "meme".

I wish Mr Dawkins had just stuck to biology, rather than trying to explain the universe as rotating around himself.

Possibly related to memes: As far as I know, the cognitive science of religion still uses ideas like "minimally counterintuitive concepts", where a supernatural being (for example) is memorable because it violates just a couple of standard expectations for its ontological categories. So, a ghost is like a person but it's dead and not solid, or something along those lines. The idea is that these sorts of concepts are particularly memorable, and so more likely to survive and get passed on.

Heaven on Earth: Art and the Church in Byzantium, ed. by Linda Safran

While sight is invoked most often in the chapters that follow, the other senses augmented the experience of the Byzantine church-goer or pilgrim: the holy books were read aloud, hymns were sung, icons or relics were touched or kissed, scented oils were used for anointing, and the smell of incense exorcised evil spirits and accompanied veneration. From differing but overlapping perspectives, the eight chapters that follow consider how Byzantine religious arts functioned in their settings and in society, and how they responded to and shaped the circumstances of their creation — in short, how art and architecture contributed in significant ways to the experience of the faithful. (8)

Byzantine art, while majestic and regal, is often accused of being bland. No creativity, just repetitive images of saints and biblical scenes. After taking a class on the topic, I am still unsure, and still trying to make sense of the deeper aesthetic of Byzantine art. Safran’s edited volume, one of the books of my class, brings together eight major scholars of this art to connect that art with the religion that inspired it. All of the chapters in this volume were originally talks given in connection with a Smithsonian Institute lecture series in 1991. I decided to finish the volume to see what lay in store for me. Here I’ll focus on the three chapters I enjoyed most.

Eric D. Perl’s chapter, “…That Man Might Become God: Central Themes in Byzantine Theology,” expanded on the central theme of theosis, or deification, the idea that humanity can become God or Godlike. He explores how theosis expressed itself in the Byzantines’ strongly incarnational Christology, its negative theology of Pseudo-Dionysus’ “divine darkness” and the hesychasm, and the liturgy, where God reveals himself to us through the senses. I was left with a strong sense of the Christian paradox that while God becomes human, allowing for the overwhelming sensuality of Byzantine devotion, God is also beyond all the forms of art, scripture, and liturgy.

Theology is liturgy in thought, liturgy is theology in action. (53)

In “The Responding Icon,” Anna Kartsonis explicates the multiple meanings of icons for Byzantine Christians. Icons were not just images of holy figures. They were representations of those figures, embodiments of them on earth. Byzantine literature is abound with stories of people being healed after touching icons of Jesus, Mary, and saints. Icons are themselves incarnations of heavenly bodies. I see this as the Byzantine equivalent of the Roman dogma of the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist: a way to bring Jesus into concrete contact with the faithful. This kind of presence, which in folk miracles can veer on the superstitious, was one of the fuels in the Iconoclasts’ fire.

The image interrelates the prototypical event (the historical Crucifixion), its numerous representations (visual, verbal, ceremonial), and the faithful, who as beholder, witness, and participant responds to its reenactment and re-creation. In the process, the pictorial representation — the icon — remains both constant and flexible in communicating the interrelation and interaction between the prototype, its representation, and the faithful. (75)

Lastly, Robert Ousterhout’s chapter, “The Holy Space: Architecture and the Liturgy,” argues that Byzantine architecture was not monotonous repetition, but subtle variations on a theme designed to be decoded by the faithful. Byzantine churches, he points out, were like Byzantine liturgy in that they evoked heaven. Icons and mosaics were placed in the culture in a way too suggest transcendence: saints at the human level, biblical figures up higher, Mary and the angels at the penultimate level, and Christ Pantokrator at the high point of the dome. The Hagia Sophia, that massive and massively atypical example of Byzantine architecture, is an apt example of the evoking of heaven:

The sense of weightlessness, despite the huge mass of the building, led Prokopios to conclude that the great dome was not supported from below but suspended by a golden chain from heaven. … More than anything the architecture of Hagia Sophia was meant to transform the ceremonies it housed, the place them on a level different from common existence, transforming them into more symbolic, heavenly drama. (90-91)

By way of conclusion, I’ll share a story. I have a friend who attends Gregorian chant mass. Last month I attended at her invitation. Much of the afternoon, I felt bored: why the endless dragging out of syllables, the ceaseless repetition of incantations? Afterwards, she explained to me that the chant is supposed to evoke the angels praising God in heaven, and the chants’ length evokes the eternal bliss of God’s presence. It clicked. Perhaps Byzantine art is the visual equivalent of Gregorian chant. It seems dull at first, but only because it operates on a deeper rhythm than we expect. While Safran’s book does not make those connections — I wish there were a chapter specifically on aesthetics — it does have moments of insight. And as art history, it was solid and enjoyable.

A Gentle Introduction to Old English by Murray McGillivray

Finally finished my primer of Old English!

I put my review on my blog here:
http://jdhomie.com/2014/08/07/review-a-gentle-introduction-to-old-english-murray...

Excellent review of A Gentle Introduction to Old English

Thanks!

Catching up again -- intriguing reviews. I'm interested in How to Read the Qur'an by Ernst. Good points made in your review of A Gentle Introduction to Old English.

Thank you Jane. Old English is fun! Right now we are going through the poetry using Mitchell's A Guide to Old English and John C. Pope and R.D. Fulk's Eight Old English Poems. We have two great guides: the husband and wife team of Anglo-Saxonists Phyllis and George Brown. All five of us students have strong Latin backgrounds, and two have studied German, so we were able to get through the grammar quite rapidly. I feel very spoiled to be part of a group with such great intellectual synergy! Monday we continue "The Dream of the Rood."

Just a check-in. School starts in a month. Schedule already packed:

Intermediate Latin
Greek Reading: Euripedes' Medea
Hebrew Reading: Hosea
Classical Tragedy in Translation
Christianity in China
Tibetan Buddhism: A Cultural History
Tibetan-Christian Dialogue

At some point I'll drop one of these -- hard to pick which one yet though...
My interests cluster mainly around ancient languages and literature (the first four classes) and Buddhist-Christian dialogue (the latter three).

Trying to get textbooks read before classes start so I can have a (slightly) more relaxed fall. As with last summer, this summer was not what I thought it would be. I hoped to get my 14 in 14 done, get a lot of other books read. Instead I fell in love, grew a lot emotionally, and have had a wonderful time working in university archives. I guess the summer was made for plans going awry.

I guess the summer was made for plans going awry.

Wasn't it that great philosopher, John Lennon, who said "Life is what happens when you're making other plans."

:)

Sounds like your plans went awry all right - but in a good way!
I love it when that happens.

Sounds like you had a great summer -- and have a busy semester ahead!

Sounds like a wonderful summer. Enjoyed your response to Dawkins (I haven't read him) and your comments on A Guide to Old English. Your review of Heaven on Earth is excellent and thought provoking.

And I'm scared to open psalms again Monday...

>199 JDHomrighausen: JD, you always take such interesting classes. I like seeing your lists and wondering what you'll be reading for each class.

That sounds like a great summer, and a great selection of classes. It's always so hard choosing which one to get rid of.

> 203, 204

Generally I just don't choose and overwork myself.

AuntiClio, you'll get to see the readings as I go!

My brother's gf graduated this spring (from my uni) and she gets to read whatever she wants when her 9-5 is over. I am SOOO jealous. Already looking forward to graduating.

Generally I just don't choose and overwork myself.

Yup, this has generally been my approach as well. I accidentally finished my four-year undergraduate degree in three years because I took so many extra courses :D

> 206

My story is the opposite. I will have taken seven years because there was so much great stuff to take in community college -- I just kept staying in school. The university part has been only three years of that.

A New History of Christianity in China by Daniel H. Bays

Despite its ambitious title, this book is quite short: only 216 pages. In those few pages, Bays attempts to cover 635 AD up to the present, from Nestorian Christianity to the current problems of Christianity under Communist China. With such an ambitious scope, he manages to fit a lot in. I won’t try to summarize his chronological account, but I hope to point to some of the issues of Christianity’s history in China.

The most obvious issue is the relation of Christianity to Chinese culture. Missionaries had some rudimentary idea that Christianity was separable from European culture. However, where did that line between religion and culture lie? This is the problem of inculturation: to what extent should the Chinese Church take on elements of Chinese culture? Jesuit missionary Matteo Ricci faced this problem in the form of ancestor veneration rituals. He deemed these compatible with Christianity (“honor they father and mother”) but Franciscan missionaries disagreed.

This discomfort with Chinese practices and need to control the orthodoxy of the Church led to a reluctance to let Chinese believers attain positions of leadership, both Protestant and Catholic. Indeed, in rural areas and in times of persecution when trained ministers were not present, Bays describes syncretism in ritual healing and shamanic practices. But the condescension and racism of the missionaries shouldn’t be understated either. I find it really sad and strange that missionaries could bring Chinese people into a faith preaching equality as children of God, but deny the abilities and vocations of those converts.

Another theme: politics and religion. Imperial power frequently helped missionaries, as when the treaties of the Opium War allowed missionaries greater access to Chinese port cities. But it also hurt them, as many Chinese associated Christianity with foreign power. Nineteenth-century missionaries claimed to preach a religion of peace, but often they were backed by guns. Contrast this to Matteo Ricci in the sixteenth century. He had no political power in Beijing. If he had offended anyone at court and been assaulted on the street, there was no colonial power in China standing behind him. He was at the mercy of the Chinese people.

I read this book to get a taste of my fall Christianity in China class. Although it gave a useful introductory overview, I can’t say I liked reading it much. Books like this tend to be overly encyclopedic. And the coverage was very skewed: after discussing the Jesuit missions of the 16th and 17th centuries, Bays sidelines Chinese Catholicism for the rest of the book, focusing mostly on Protestants. And only the first two chapters (40 pages) cover pre-1800 Chinese Christianity. After those two chapters, which were more analytic and thematic, the book turns into a much more fact-churning, name-dropping kind of narrative. Thankfully, Bays has an excellent bibliography, so it’s not hard to find more analysis of any topic he mentions.

The Buddhist Art of Gandhara: The Story of the Early School; Its Birth, Growth and Decline by John Marshall

The classics senior thesis I am writing this year is about Gandharan art, a style of art from Northwestern India (now Pakistan) in the first few centuries of the Common Era that drew from Greco-Roman styles. Specifically I'm looking at the iconography of Herakles/Hercules in Gandharan art. The wild child-killer and monster-slaying cultural hero became a spirit-deity and the Buddha's bodyguard in Gandharan art, despite leaving almost no traces in extant literary sources. I'm hoping to explore the Buddhist appropriation of Heraklean imagery and themes.

That said, I was hoping Marshall's book would be more helpful than it was. Though it was written in the 1960s, it is still cited in the contemporary scholarship. Marshall seeks to provide a chronology of Gandharan art from its birth to its decline. However, he never explains the criteria by which he deems one period better than another. Nor does he explain how he dated each artwork into a time period. I was left with two impressions. One, that he judges each artwork according to a criteria from Western art: sculptural realism. This kind of ethnocentric evaluation has no place in scholarship. Second, I suspect he dated some artworks to fit his narrative of birth, growth, maturity, and decadent death.

So his theories are pretty useless, but he has a lot of great color plates, and helps decode the iconography of many individual sculptures. These are worth the book itself, though there are better modern books such as those of Kurt Behrendt or Stanislaw Czuma on Gandharan art.

>207 JDHomrighausen: Well, I didn't exactly leave school when my degree was done :). I figured I could take similar courses in grad school, but they would pay me rather than me paying them.

A new review is up on my blog:

http://jdhomie.com/2014/09/21/book-review-d-a-carsons-the-king-james-version-deb...

Enjoy!

I'm curious, what other versions/translations of the bible are recommended? Not necessarily by Carson.

Not to denigrate Carson's valuable parts, but isn't he taking down a strawman? No serious scholar considers the KJV flawless.

>213 dchaikin:

Correct. But there is a good deal of popular literature that does. Just google "KJV only."

> 212

Personally, I prefer the NRSV, but the NIV, NAB, ESV, etc. -- these are all good. From what I understand most of the major versions are solid, except some of the oddballs like the New World Translation used by the Jehovah's Witnesses. And if you use a commentary or a bible with good notes the translation is even less important.

Illuminating the Word: The Making of the St. John’s Bible by Christopher Calderhead

In this glossy coffee-table sized book, Calderhead delves into the story of the St. John’s Bible, the first illuminated manuscript of the Bible in over 500 years. After ink first touched page on the St. John’s Bible in 2000, it took over a decade to get the whole thing done, with a team of calligraphers, illuminators, biblical scholars, art historians, and theologians working together. The original is housed at St. John’s Abbey in Minnesota, but there are 299 high quality facsimiles in libraries and churches around the world, and lower-quality facsimiles available on Amazon for $40.

When I worked in archives this summer, I got to see the St. John’s Bible a lot, and there’s a lot of depth in it. Although the project is very traditional, the illuminations are not. They draw on imagery from Native American, Tibetan, Jewish, and Muslim traditions, even including scientific imagery and prehistoric cave paintings. One of the illuminators, Aidan Hart, is actually an anomaly for being a very traditional Orthodox icon painter.

Calderhead does not hesitate to describe the clashes in the creation of the manuscript. Everyone bickered with everyone, in part because everyone was doing something very new. Biblical scholars on the advisory committee had to learn to speak less academically when telling the calligraphers and illuminators what was going on in a parable. Illuminators would propose radical artistic designs that the advisory committee didn’t like. Calligraphers would make mistakes and struggle to fix them.

Donald Jackson, the head calligrapher for the project, describes himself as not being a religious man. But, he points out, if Christians believe that God’s Word is truth and beauty, then why are so many modern editions of the Bible so aesthetically unpleasant? Rather than small text, thin bleed-through pages, numbers and notes every which way, why not a text that reminds us of its beauty at first sight? It’s a convincing argument. People who came to the library to see the St. John’s Bible engaged it differently – not as a collection of doctrinal prooftexts, but as a spiritual encounter. The St. John’s Bible reminds us of the sacramentality of scripture.

Scripture Matters: Essays on Reading the Bible from the Heart of the Church by Scott Hahn

Hahn, a popular teacher and apologist for Catholicism at the conservative and charismatic Franciscan University of Steubenville, has put together some of his essays in this short book on scripture. I read it on the way home from Oregon to get some spiritual reading in.

I have mixed feelings about this book. On the one hand, Hahn is a very good spiritual writer. His writing evokes prayer. I especially enjoyed his chapters on the woman caught in adultery (it’s not just about non-judgmentalism) and the “hour” that is “at hand” in Jesus’ preaching. I like how he used Aquinas as a lens to view salvation history. I knew nothing about St. Josemaria Escriva, the founder of Opus Dei, so Hahn’s chapter on how Escriva read scripture was illuminating.

But I also disagreed with much of what he said, especially his chapter on higher criticism and its dangers. Hahn styles himself as a biblical theologian, but he rejects many of the currents in biblical scholarship now. For example, Catholic biblical scholar Raymond Brown famously remarked that even though he doesn’t believe the biblical account of Mary’s virginity is intended to be a historical fact in scripture, but a symbol, he still believes in the historical virginity of Mary through faith. That was his way to trying to preserve both traditional Catholic teaching and stay honest to the fruits and limits of his scholarly method. Hahn rejects that, remarking that “an erosion process begins, if not in your own lifestyle, then in that of your students, not least in their faith” (150). It seems Hahn is rejecting many of the methods of historical criticism, such as analyses of redaction and genre, because they threaten faith and teach skepticism. Hahn wants to return to a more medieval approach, using the classic “fourfold sense” of scripture, especially spiritual-allegorical reading.

But just because a study teaches skepticism and erodes faith does not make it bad. For me, the Incarnation implies that in Christianity, the human and the divine conmingle. So if we theorize that Moses didn’t write the Pentateuch, that Luke’s infanacy narrative may have been a theological explanation rather than a historical narrative, or more broadly that Biblical texts all have a political-polemical background to their writing, that does not mean God isn’t speak through them. The Bible was made by human hands, which is where historical criticism becomes possible. This isn’t like the Qur’an, which is believed to come straight from God, no editing. So I don't agree with Hahn's distrust, and I don't like the way he straw mans higher criticism.

The Making of Buddhist Modernism by David L. McMahan

McMahan’s book, examining the reinterpretation of Buddhism in the West, is one of the best books on Buddhism I have ever read. He examines how Buddhist teachers refit their religion to fit into the Modernist molds of scientific rationalism, individualistic expression and subjectivity, and the Romantic search for transcendence in nature. One major point: just as Buddhism mixed with shamanism in Tibet, Taoism in China, and Shinto in Japan, in the West Buddhism has adopted the language of psychology. McMahan’s book is a major work, necessary for understanding the direction of the dharma in the West. Highly recommended.

>216 JDHomrighausen: this is interesting. I'm intrigued by the clashes - or that there were clashes.

>217 JDHomrighausen: I like your review and your response to Hahn.

Thanks, Dan. I found the clashes interesting too. We don't get to hear much about the scribes who did these manuscripts in the past, so by hearing about a contemporary experience I felt I was getting a taste of the middle ages, come back to life.

>218 JDHomrighausen: this is also very interesting - especially your comment that "in the West Buddhism has adopted the language of psychology."

Enjoying catching up with your reviews, and particularly learning about the modern illuminated manuscript.

The Clash of Gods: A Reinterpretation of Early Christian Art by Thomas F. Mathews

Mathews’ book is one of the first books I’m reading for my senior thesis. It’s REALLY good. Mathews examines the earliest Christian art for how it appropriates the imagery of Roman culture. His main thesis is refuting the “Emperor Mystique,” the received theory from scholars such as Andre Grabar. Grabar that explains early Christian art entirely in terms of Christians replacing the emperor with Christ. Rather, Mathews argues, the visual language of early Christian art borrows from many different motifs in Roman culture. Each chapter of this book examines a trope or type-scene in early Christian art, reviews the “Emperor Mystique” interpretation, then argues that the image is better interpreted in another fashion.

In chapter two, “The Chariot and the Donkey,” Mathews examines images of Christ processioning into Jerusalem on a donkey. Rather than an imperial association, he argues, these images most resemble Roman gentleman coming back from the hunt. Rather than imperial garb, Christ wears the simple robes of a genteel philosopher. He is riding on an ass, which was the transport of Dionysus in Roman art. The ass, Mathews argues, is significant because of its associations with pagan imagery. But in Christian art, it is reinterpreted, because in the Christian worldview animals are collaborators in the human endeavor. Even an ass can help God as a mount – not just a bull or a stallion.

Chapter three, “The Magician,” starts with the fact that the earliest Christian art of the third and fourth centuries does not focus on the resurrection or the cross. Instead it focuses on Christ as a miracle-worker. Christ often holds a wand, an implement that, then as now, is a tool of a magician. Magic was often used in the ancient world as a form of healing, such as in the cult of Asclepius. Christians in their art portrayed Jesus as not only any healer and miracle-worker, but a better one than any of the Roman gods. Far from imposing imperial imagery, the Christ miracle-worker is a peaceful, intimate healer, as when he healed the hemorrhaging woman. Not only was Christ depicted as a wand-wielding magician, but so were Moses, Daniel, and Peter!

Chapter four, “Larger-Than-Life,” examines large mosaics of Christ in church apses. Christ is often depicted on a throne, in a powerful guise. Mathews argues that the visual language of power in this art, however, is not imperial but godly. He examines Christ’s throne, arguing that it is not the throne of the emperor but the throne of Jupiter in Roman art. Christ’s other physical features, such as his long hair, halo, and beard are actually borrowed from the imagery of Jupiter. The message is not that Christ is the new emperor – Roman emperors existed for centuries after Constantine – but that he is the emperor of the gods. Also, in these mosaics of Christ enthroned, his disciples were often sitting around him. Mathews argues that this is the imagery of the philosopher and his disciples. Christ is wearing a philosopher’s robe. The bishop, whose seat was underneath the apse where this image would be, was taking part in the authority of Christ as philosopher-god.

The next chapter, “Christ Cameleon,” tackles a more controversial topic: Christ’s highly effeminate depiction in churches and sculpture. Many images of Christ portrayed him with long hair, no beard, and a boyish face. Some even portray him with breasts. This genderbending imagery was most associated with Dionysus and Apollo. Gnostic texts especially, but orthodox ones to a lesser extent, portrayed many of the feminine qualities of Jesus, such as his role as nurturer of souls. Christ could also be portrayed variously as young or old, signaling that his being transcends the limits of his body’s gender and age. Perhaps, Mathews argues, some of this feminine Christ imagery represented how women experienced God.

In chapter six, “Convergence,” Mathews tries to find an organizing principle for all of early Christian art. He settles on the idea of a procession. Early Christian worship processions were big events: they would walk around a city, very publicly. This was reflected in the art. Mathews writes, “The world view of early Christian art is a vision of the confluence of humankind toward an omega point in Christ. The mosaic figures that circle the beholder’s head in the dome, or stream down the walls of the nave, symmetrically organized image of Christ with attendant angels and saints” (173). Everyone was in these mosaic processions, from commoners to saints to emperors. But even though Emperor Theodora and his wife Justinian famously follow Christ in the church at San Vitale, Ravenna, Christ is still the leader of the procession, wearing not an emperor’s crown but a grapevine-wreath given to athletic winners and Roman gods.

Icons are one of the most famous and long-lasting styles of Christian art, tracing back to the fifth century at least. In chapter seven, “The Intimate Icon,” Mathews traces this style back to Roman icons of gods, which were popular in home shrines and private devotion. For example, he argues that Marian icons borrow from images of Isis, as the famous “Christ Pantokrator” icons borrow from Serapis.

Mathews’ book is titled “The Clash of the Gods” because he interprets early Christian art as religious apologetic. Early Christians saw their god, Christ, as specifically defeating and besting the gods of the Roman pantheon. Even though sometimes Mathews overstates his point, I enjoyed this book because it gave me a glimpse of early Christianity that differs from the textual tradition of the Church Fathers. I’ll finish with a quote:

“Historians never ask how images of Christ affected the way people conceptualized him. Not in an abstract sense, for images take us well beyond the world of ideas, but how they grasped him, how they felt about him, how they related to him, and what kind of a person they thought he was. (11)

(Category 12: Ancient and Medieval Christian Art)

Christ the Miracle Worker in Early Christian Art by Lee M. Jefferson

Jefferson’s book, originally written as a doctoral dissertation, surveys the popular motif of Christ as miracle-worker in Christian art between the third and fifth centuries. He asks the question: “What was the purpose of depicting Jesus as a healer and miracle worker?” (2). Most of his analysis deals with fourth-century catacomb paintings and sarcophagi reliefs. He argues that these images “provide comfort for the living, often in a burial context,” and that they “reassured Christian audiences of the superiority of Jesus in a pluralistic religious environment and the security of the life beyond” (4). After his introduction, reviews depictions of magic and miracles in both non-Christian (chapter 2) and Christian (chapter 3) sources. He then examines images of Christ healing (chapter 4), Christ raising the dead (chapter 5), the “nature miracles” of Christ (chapter 6), and the staff of Jesus (chapter 7).

Jefferson’s book is powerfully indebted to Mathews, as he not only continues to find non-imperial sources for the iconography of Jesus, but he also responds specifically to the images Mathews discusses in chapter 3, “The Magician.” Jefferson moderates Mathews’ strict focus on pagan sources by identifying some of the image-types of Jesus as coming from a Jewish background rather than a pagan background. For example, the implement of Jesus that Mathews interprets as the wand of a pagan magician, Jefferson argues is the staff of Moses. However, sometimes Jefferson overstates his case, as there is no reason the imagery can’t echo both cultures, as early Christianity itself did.

For my project, the most relevant parts of Jefferson’s book are his analyses of Christ as healer and as resurrecter. In examining Christ the healer, he argues that “non-Christian imagery was appropriated to portray rival deities as inferior to Christ” (88). He compares three major motifs of Christ as healer (the healing of the paralytic, the woman with the issue of blood, and the healing of the blind) to Asclepius. He argues that while Christ does not look like Asclepius, he is performing similar actions, and needs fewer implements to do so – as if he is a far better healer (and more of a human one, given his clothing) than Asclepius.

In his chapter on Christ as resurrecter, Jefferson cites early Christian apologists such as Justin Martyr who compared Jesus to Herakles and Orpheus. They read these two figures Christologically, as they too were deified men who performed great acts of heroism. Herakles in particular was seen as a figure of “divine aid and strength” (112) and a resurrecter of Alcestis. Jefferson speculates that “Hercules and other figures from the pagan pantheon represent well-known tales that Christians could recognize as compatible with a funerary environment and not as idolatrous threats … Early Christians could exhibit images of Hercules or Orpheus and project Christian themes. Both figures embodied charity and were able to exert a level of control over the dead, and they both enjoyed a heroic apotheosis” (115-116). In the catacombs, some of the earliest Christian art we have left, we see Christians working out the visual lexicon of their new religion. We see Hercules in particular in the Via Latina catacombs.

For my project, Jefferson is useful because he provides a framework through which to view Hercules in early Christian art: the framework of simultaneous appropriation and interreligious polemic. Early Christians saw the parallels between Christ and pagan gods, but rather than denying those parallels, they used them to their advantage.

Heracles: The Twelve Labors of the Hero in Ancient Art and Literature by Frank Brommer

At some point I have probably mentioned here that I am writing one of my senior theses on the imagery of Herakles in early Buddhist art. One question I’m looking to answer is which depictions of Herakles from the Greco-Roman world made it to Gandhara (modern-day Pakistan). So I am now reading six books about Herakles in ancient Greco-Roman art and literature: Jaimee Pugliese’s Herakles: Passage of the Hero Through 1000 Years of Classical Art, G. Karl Galinsky’s The Herakles Theme: The Adaptations of the Hero in Literature from Homer to the Twentieth Century, Emma Stafford’s Herakles, Rainer Volkommer’s Herakles in the Art of Classical Greece, and this one. I’m definitely bewildered by how many different depictions there are!

Brommer’s short (67 pgs. + notes and plates) book examines the history of the Twelve Labors of Herakles in art and literature. Of the many cycles of myth featuring Herakles, these heroic feats are the most famous. Though these deeds were assigned to the hero by King Eurystheus to kill Herakles, instead Herakles overcame all the trials, defeating death and earning his apotheosis, or deification.

Brommer emphasizes that these labors were not invented as a package. Each one of the labors has a different history. For example, Herakles’ capture of the Hades-dog Cerberus dates back at least to the 8th century, when Homer mentions it in the Iliad. Other labors, such as the Thracian horses and the stables of Augeas, don’t appear until the sixth century. And these labors varied in terms of popularity. Brommer examines Greek art from the 6th-4th centuries, from large temple reliefs to decorative vases, finding that the Nemean Lion and the belt of the Amazon women were the most-depicted labors. Meanwhile, the stables of Augeas was almost never depicted. (Perhaps a vase depicting a filty, shit-filled stable is not so decorative.) Brommer often points out differences between the art and the literature of a particular myth.

Brommer also examines the concept of a canon of twelve labors. In art of the Archaic and Classical Greek era, temple metopes depicted labors of Herakles. But the number of labors varied. Some temples depicted eight or ten. Others depicted labors that were not part of the Twelve, such as Herakles slaying cenataurs. Brommer traces the Greek word “Dodekathlos,” literally “twelve contests,” to the Hellenistic era. Mythographers of the Hellenistic and Roman era (e.g. Apollodorus) invented the concept of twelve canonical labors, likely drawing from the twelve labors depicted in the temple to Zeus at Olympia. But the temple of Zeus at Olympia is the ONLY place we see all twelve labors depicted in Greek art before the Hellenistic era.

Brommer’s book focuses on Greek art, especially from the Archaic Age, when he argues Herakles’ heroic feats was most popular. The Romans venerated Herakles as well, but they did not add to his mythology or create new artistic styles: it is “not a resurgence of belief in myth; it is a connoisseurship of a myth, a mythologizing” (6). I wish Brommer had fleshed out this statement more. Overall, a useful book for my thesis, filled with ancient art and short excerpts from literary sources.

Interesting stuff. Looks like you are wokring hard at this.

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