After a phase of reading lots in the summer, I paused for a few months to watch The West Wing (complete set on sale, you see, and so very addictive). Now it’s reading time again, and I find I’m like a four year old let loose at an Easter egg hunt. A few pages here, then catch a glint of colour from across the room, read there for a while, then get distracted…
I was trying to think, yesterday, what book I last finished. I still haven’t quite figured it out. ‘Last started’ is easy… ‘Last started’ and the ten other books ‘started, enjoyed, but not yet finished’ that are sitting by my chair. So which shall I choose tonight?
(These are in balancing order, if you were wondering.)
John Buchan, Witch Wood. I began this one during a short phase of West Wing overdose at Christmas. Enjoying it well enough, but I do wonder why I ever read so many of his books. (Those of you who know the answer, hush now.)
Heather Wood, Third Class Ticket. This was a book chosen for the church book group that I was so sure I did not want to read. ‘Travel books’ rarely interest me, and out-of-print travel books make me all the more suspect. So, I began reading it two days before the meeting with a sense of dread. I loved it, and did little but read for two days (well, in-between things, of course). It is a fascinating story of people moving well beyond their comfort zone and revising their sense of themselves and the world. There is a remarkable chapter when the elders of the village visit the university and are overwhelmed by the beauty and wonder of the books. Too many good bits to name. Try to find it if you can…
Ross Thompson, Spirituality in Season. This was another book I didn’t expect much from. I bought it rapidly, hoping it might be useful for people in the congregation who needed a stronger sense of the liturgical year. It’s been superb– drawing lots of familiar threads together, with clever gems and mirrors woven in to keep ideas glinting. I can’t tell you how many ‘if only’ liturgies it’s lead me to (the ‘if onlies’ involving time, space, children, and lack-of-triplicate).
Brian Greene, The Elegant Universe. The jury is still out: do I prefer string theory or chaos theory? Greene has not yet convinced me that the strings are beautiful, but I am not far in yet.
Elizabeth Garner, The Ingenious Edgar Jones. A curious curious book about an extraordinary birth, an extraordinary child, and the struggle to live with the remarkable. I’m not far into this one either, but suspect it might be a rare and memorable novel.
James Joyce, Ulysses. One day I will finish it. Every time I start, I love it; every time I stop because I haven’t the time.
Michael Arditti, Easter. The book group has just chosen to read this, so I really must look at it again before lending it away. I have read it twice over the years, and found it interesting both times. Will it live for a third time?
Moltmann, Experiences in Theology. I recommended it to Kate the other day, and realised I wanted to read it again. So, I’ve just been dabbling. Can I justify re-reading with so many virgin books on the shelf?
James Alison, On Being Liked. I have enjoyed the first half of this book several times now. It is my ferry book, and I keep forgetting where I stopped reading. Do you suppose I really have finished it, and just didn’t notice?
Jean-Luc Marion, God Without Being. I’ve talked about this one before — and am not very much further than I was last time. It may be the theological equivalent of Ulysses.
Robert Robertson, Vegan Planet. … because cookbooks make good bed-time reading, and I’m considering keeping and age-old Lenten custom. (the recipes are much more interesting than you might think — and did you know that you can use ground linseeds & water as an egg replacement in baking?)