Tag: books

Thumbs down for East of Eden

I finished East of Eden last night and–are you laughing and saying “I told you so” right now, dad?–it was seriously disappointing. I haven’t read the book in ten years, since we were actually living in California and I was probably freshly influenced by our visit to Salinas and the John Steinbeck museum.

A picture we took to gloat to our South Dakota families of us in jackets, in February.

A picture we took to gloat to our South Dakota families of us in jackets, in February.

Last night I wondered what all the fuss was about. The book is supposedly Steinbeck’s magnum opus, but it falls short and flat to me. The characters, with the possible exception of Cathy, Cal, and Lee, are flat and underdeveloped. The families really don’t twine together as advertised. Sam Hamilton is put forth, they have a single conversation that’s only deep in their minds, and somehow it influences practically everything else, except that it doesn’t.

Adam is lame. There, I said it. He’s lazy, kind of dumb, and you never really understand him or what he was about after he grew up. When he was a kid, you got him. But then his personality disappears. Aron, likewise, is a flat kid with a vanity that’s couched in his angelic likability, but he’s really just annoying. The only truly interesting character is Cal, and I suppose in the end you’re supposed to go off wondering if he took his father’s blessing and did something with it.

I think the book was too ambitious and too transparent in its aim to be great, when in the end it isn’t (perhaps mirroring the characters?). Amazingly, many people on Good Reads disagree with me. One person wants to “marry this book and have its babies.” Errr, yeah.

On the whole, I prefer Chaim Potok’s Jewish novels to this pseudo-Christian “parable.” And that’s not to say I haven’t liked other Steinbeck novels. But I’ll take The Promise over East of Eden any day.

On the reading list (Lent edition)

Sunday our choir sang “Alleluia, Song of Gladness,” a beautiful hymn about putting away the Alleluias for a time while we contemplate our sin during the Lenten season.

As an aside, I don’t understand at all why anyone would want to get rid of our rich hymnody and swap in meaningless praise songs. Compare this lovely hymn

Lord, let at last Thine angels come,
To Abram’s bosom bear me home,
That I may die unfearing;
And in its narrow chamber keep
My body safe in peaceful sleep
Until Thy reappearing.
And then from death awaken me
That these mine eyes with joy may see,
O Son of God, Thy glorious face,
My Savior and my Fount of grace,
Lord Jesus Christ,
My prayer attend, my prayer attend,
And I will praise Thee without end.

to this randomly-chosen top 25 Praise and Worship song of 2012:

Here I am to worship
Here I am to bow down
Here I am to say that You’re my God
You’re altogether lovely
Altogether worthy
Altogether wonderful to me

Just from a literary perspective alone…but I digress. Back to the reading list. I don’t have nearly as much spare time to read as I’d like, but 15 minutes before bed or an hour on Sunday afternoon while the little ones are napping is better than nothing.

1. East of Eden by John Steinbeck. I can see my dad rolling his eyes presciently as I type, but I’ve long wanted to re-read this book (the last time I read it we were actually living in California, not too far from the setting in the novel) and, after hearing Mumford & Sons’ Timshel the other day on Pandora, I went ahead and checked it out from the library on Sunday. Not to get all Oprah-esque, but this is the kind of book that makes me want a book club, except that I only know of one other person around here who would be remotely interested in reading it. It’s also the kind of book that would lead even a Christian book club discussion to devolve into all kinds of bad theology.

2. Psalm 51. I like to read this every night during Lent. One of these years I’ll have the whole thing memorized instead of just snatches of it.

3. The Little Book on Joy by Pastor Matthew Harrison. This book is a great Lenten devotional. Derek did a Bible study on it several years ago at First Lutheran, and I’ve pulled it out every year since. It doesn’t hurt that CPH has the rights to it now. Y’all buy one, you hear?

I’ve also announced to the kids that we will be forgoing sweets this Lent. They aren’t thrilled. I never was thrilled as a child when my family did it. There are pros and cons, and you have to be very careful what you’re teaching them about the why of it–not because we’re “giving something up for Jesus,” but because we’re reminding ourselves of how much he gave up for us, and, when we inevitably fail at even this small sacrifice, how much we need what he gave.

The secondary reason I chose sweets is that between school, outings, and their eternally-full candy bucket, they eat way more sugar than is good for them. Proof: Jonathan doesn’t ask for a treat, he asks for a t-r-e-a-t, because he’s learned the girls’ code-word spelling they invented so he wouldn’t understand. They’re currently calling a treat code-word “hamster,” as in, “Mom, can I have a hamster?” I look forward to dumping that bucket and weaning them off the “hamsters” for six weeks.

Sophia wanted to give up brushing her teeth for Lent. My work here is not finished.

On the nightstand, June edition

Our little Lutheran book club is on hiatus this summer, and in order to distract myself from the fact that I’m not going to law school this fall and to bolster up my enthusiasm for my business, I’m reading a series of creative/entrepreneurial books this month. They’re all very good (with the possible exception of The Four-Hour Workweek, which I haven’t read yet).

The $100 Startup by Chris Guillebeau isn’t so much a “how to become a millionaire from nothing” book as it is a “let’s rethink the traditional business model of get a loan from a bank/get venture capitalists to invest in my Big Idea, lease an office and employees and ratchet up expenses.” Chris values the same things I value: time, flexibility, doing what you love, purposely staying small so you can be flexible and not have to answer to the bank or to investors. I picked up some new ideas here about creating better passive income streams, versus what I currently do: charge for my time invested.

Rework by Jason Fried and David Heinemeier Hansson is a must-read for anyone interested in a new, transparent, anti-bureaucratic way of doing business. Advice like “Don’t be a workaholic. Just use your time better” and “Embrace constraints” and “Meetings are toxic” and “Interruption is the enemy of productivity” had me nodding in agreement through the whole book. My favorite:

Hire great writers. If you are trying to decide among a few people to fill a position, hire the best writer. It doesn’t matter if that person is a marketer, salesperson, designer, programmer, or whatever; their writing skills will pay off. That’s because being a good writer is about more than writing. Clear writing is a sign of clear thinking. Great writers know how to communicate. They make things easy to understand. They can put themselves in someone else’s shoes. They know what to omit. And those are qualities you want in any candidate.

These two guys run a multi-million dollar company with just sixteen employees–half of whom work from home all over the country/world. The other half are not required to show up at their Chicago headquarters unless they want to. Why? Because they get that geography, in today’s global/mobile world, is meaningless. That they’d be missing out on the very best hires if they only looked in Chicago. That getting together once or twice a year is valuable, but having endless meetings every stinkin’ day is not. That, my friends, is how you can run a multi-million dollar company with sixteen employees. You can get a lot done working from home sans meetings.

Quiet by Susan Cain. One of my friends said about this book, “I want to give this book to my entire family and all of my friends and tell them, ‘Read this, and  you will understand who I am.’” I’m a classic introvert in the sense that I get energy from being alone and feel drained after being with people and I prefer deeper discussions with fewer people than small talk with many people, but I’m neither shy nor sensitive like many introverts. One thing I found fascinating was the discussion about leadership styles. It turns out I’m more of an extroverted leader, motivating people by energizing them with my vision, while Derek is more of an introverted leader, motivating people by listening to their ideas and empowering them to execute. Interesting, because he’s more extroverted than I am in general.

I also loved the section on working styles. She talks about the big shift in schools and corporate America for group-based learning, open classrooms, and open office spaces and  how they encouraged more collaboration, but were deadly to introverts. (I know this is true: in 3rd and 4th grade, I went from straight A’s at a regular school to almost failing grades in the open classroom setting at Ralph M. Captain elementary school in Clayton, MO. In fifth grade, back in a closed-wall classroom, my grades went back up.) It also turns out, according to the research Cain presented, that collaboration doesn’t necessarily produce better results than individual thinking, and often it’s worse because people are both afraid to look stupid and are unduly influenced by their peers. Luckily for people who are easily distracted and think better alone, the tide is turning back. A sea of cubicles may be ugly, but at least there’s a modicum of privacy within so you can think, work, and check Facebook without your boss and colleagues looking over your shoulder.

The Four-Hour Workweek by Tim Ferriss is also in my pile. For a long time I resisted reading it, because I’m old-school and think working hard is a virtue. But after reading The $100 Startup I decided it was worth it to delve deeper into developing passive forms of income, which is largely what this book is about.

Next time I check in here, it might be from my tropical island, where I will be pulling in $20,000 a week in passive revenue while I sit quietly, alone, in a meeting-free zone, running my company from afar.

Books, sweet books

The other night I dreamed that we walked into the new house, and they’d painted every single room beige. I was distraught, crying “Why? We were going to buy it anyway!”

Today I started packing my books. Besides china and extra blankets, they’re the easiest to box up first, yet paradoxically the very items I’m most anxious to have put away afterwards so I can feel truly at home. I’ll never forget having to leave almost all my books behind on vicarage, taking only my “how to raise a baby” type books for my first year with an infant. When Pastor Crown came in to see us for the first time, he announced that he always looks over a family’s bookshelves to get a sense of who they are. I was horrified, but too scared to scream, “This isn’t meeeeeee!”

The books are a decent historical record of all the silly and not-so-silly phases I’ve gone through over the years. One box is full of simple living books like Your Money or Your Life and In Praise of Slowness. A few more hold my ginormous wine tomes, although I finally passed my sommelier flashcards to a friend. There’s a box with my childhood favorites–the Laura Ingalls Wilder series, the Anne of Green Gables series, the Narnia series, and some Madeline L’Engle volumes. All of the books I studied for English lit classes in college, including the odd postmodern Irish literature collection. My Lutheran books, which multiply quarterly now that I’m on the CPH board and get boxes of all the new products. The stacks of law school books and writing books, including one creative book called The Artist’s Way that I almost dumped but then thought better of, because maybe I need a humbling reminder that I once thought some woo-woo “letting go of my childhood and all the people who are holding back my creativity” workbook would make me a bestselling novelist. (To be fair, a lot of my writer friends love Julia Cameron’s books. I am not one of them.)

Lookin' pretty bare in there.

A few of my books are actually my parents’, borrowed from their shelves in college and never returned. (Shhh!) And the rest are my favorite works of fiction, everything from my complete Oscar Wilde collection to Edith Wharton, Chaim Potok and Ernest Hemingway to Anthony Trollope and Henry James.

Is it too soon to already miss them?

Dare to Read (Like a Lutheran)

Two of my favorite things–reading and Lutheranism–in this great new CPH poster.

I {heart} books

One of the perks of serving as a board member for Concordia Publishing House is the quarterly shipment of books.

It’s like Christmas in our house, with everyone rushing to get the box open and claim their stuff, me yelling all the while for them to step away from the box: it’s mine.

(Of course I do share. But first, I want to see what’s in there.)

This quarter is another embarrassment of riches. There are Bible studies.

Tons of Spanish-language resources, which I will give to our new Anglican-turned-Lutheran friends who hail from Puerto Rico.

President Harrison’s At Home in the House of My Fathers–just in time for Walther’s 200th birthday.

A spiral-bound catechism I’m particularly excited about, since my old tattered blue copy from confirmation in 1991 contains dorky 13-year-old notes back and forth between Sephra Schulz and me. Even Kate is horrified at my immaturity back when.

The spiral-bound catechism even has a place for notes (the theological kind, not 13-year-old “Sephra loves ???” kind).

I think Derek will appreciate the 2012 Worship Planner. It has readings, hymns, the collect, a theme, music suggestions, a calendar of holidays and festivals (ahem…churchly stuff like St. Matthew Day, not Mother’s Day), and a Divine Service planner.

There are books for the kids

And books I want the kids to read.

There are big fat specialty books

And even a graphic novel. (Did you know CPH was so hip?)

Check it out, people. CPH.org.