I've been a voracious reader for as long as I can remember -- I'll read just about any well written book, and a large number of not so well written books too. For a somewhat shorter time, I've been a critical reader. Partly it's that every aspiring writer is told to go out and read critically, but more than that at a certain point comparisons become inevitable.
Which is better, Harry Potter or Narnia? How do I predict which library shelves hold the most enjoyable books? What should I recommend to other people? Some kind of standard becomes necessary. Besides, it's fun to talk about books - nearly as much fun as it is to read them.
At some point, I discovered the fun of writing book reviews. At first I tried to list main characters and important themes; to make a literary analysis of the book. The trouble with that approach is twofold. For one thing, I'm rather unqualified to make literary analyses and quite aware of it. For another, I could write a review as long as the book itself, which rather defeats the purpose of a review.
Then, while I was exploring different kinds of nonfiction writing, I stumbled across a better way of writing reviews. A book review is a true story about an adventure I went on - the adventure of reading a good book, an awful book, or even a mediocre book. Sharing my adventure is not about what I know and don't know and it doesn't have to be exhaustive. It's even more fun to write than the formal things I learned to write at school.
My 26th of January resolution is to write more book reviews. As a kind of motivation, I'll post them too, on deviantART and at the Reading as Discipline blog. Words are fun. Words about words are even more fun!
Tags: words
At least, she hopes so. Moving house is a complicated business, and the worst part is that it means no internet! Things are more-or-less settled now, and my university orientation begins in a week, which is quite exciting.
In the meantime, the rest of my family have settled into various schools (and a seminary), and we've found a church to fit in at. In just a few weeks I've been part of a good number of different activities, and I've begun teaching Sunday School, which is awesome.
I 'click' with Sunday School. Preparing and praying and running the programme are all so much fun, so meaningful and just right. I'm very happy to be involved in that already.
Basically, we are here and even have internet! I will write a post that uses a larger section of my brain later! Have a nice day!
That seems to be what they call it outside of Africa, anyway. We're visiting the Kruger National Park, so I'll be gone for a week or so. Happy advent!
My fifteen word bible got me thinking about the nature of the bible. It's something I contemplate from time to time, like many Christians, I suppose. Recently, I've been thinking that the bible is like a fractal, and trying to boil it down to fifteen words only emphasised that. The analogy is flawed, of course, like any human attempt at understanding God must be, but I think it's still worth exploring.
Fractals are very beautiful in and of themselves, although they can represent very complex ideas. I don't nearly understand the maths (chaos theory) behind fractals. Even when very learned men and women express the concepts mathematically, they lose something of their intuitive and natural beauty. The bible can be like that. I certainly acknowledge that commentaries and theological dissertations are meaningful and important, but the bible itself is the really beautiful, intrinsic, important thing.
The other important thing about fractals is that they're endlessly repetitive. There's a pattern behind the fractal that is extended indefinitely, becoming smaller and smaller. You can see the basic pattern, but it forms a different overall pattern too. I think that the basic pattern of the bible is God's nature, but perhaps the overall pattern is Christianity.
For me, that understanding gives me some idea of what seems like the repetitive nature of the bible, and particularly the Old Testament. Looking at the broad sweep of the pattern, we see repeated rejections of God and returns to him. As we look deeper, we see particular causes for these moves. Zooming in again, we can pick out individual responses. Every layer is important in making up the whole, but I struggle to conceive of them all simultaneously. My fractal model helps me to hold the pieces together.
I dare say that rigorous theological analysis would turn it out as dubious at best, but it helps me to understand. It's another rung in my ladder. I think that's what counts.