The Hundred Year Old Man...

Looking for a good read over the holidays?  Take a look at "Hundraåringen som klev ut genom fönstret och försvann" - that's "The Hundred-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out Of The Window And Disappeared", to you guv.  

It's the debut novel of Jonas Jonasson, a Swedish writer and, is a wonderful and surreal novel which combines the account of a man's life with the adventure that he gets himself into once he has escaped from the old folks home he is living in.  Beautiful written - presumably, it's certainly a brilliant piece of translation - blurring the boundaries between everyday life and fantasy, it's a great read, in my top ten already, I think.  Give it a go!    

Thank God For Parking Tickets

Just finished John Lanchester's book, a very readable and intelligent book - to my mind.  I liked this passage seen from the viewpoint of a woman who is working as a traffic warden:

"When you gave people a ticket they were angry, always and inevitably.  And the anger could spread, and become catching, as it had with this plainly mad woman, crazed with resentments.  There were times when she wanted to say: Get down on your knees! Be grateful! A billion people living on a dollar a day, as many who can't find clean drinking water, you live in a country where there is a promise to feed, clothe, shelter and doctor you, from the moment of your birth to the moment of your death, for free, where the state won't come  and beat or imprison you or conscript you, where the life expectancy is one of the longest in the world, where the government does not lie to you about Aids, where the music is not bad, and the only bad thing is the climate, and you find it in yourself to complain about parking?  Woe, woe!  Down on your knees in gratitude that  you can even notice this minor irritation!  Praise God for the fact that you resent getting this ticket, instead of rending your clothes with grief because you lost another child to dysentery or malaria!  Sing hosannas when you fill out the little green form in the envelope stuck to your windshield! For you, you of the deservedly punished five-minute overstay, you of the misinterpreted residents' bay area, you of the ignored Loading Only sign, are of all people who have lived the most fortunate!"  
                                                                                                                                                (p.212-3)

A great reminder about perspective and being grateful for all the things we rarely think about.

Why walk?

Found Stuart Maconie's latest book while browsing the map section of a bookshop and have very much enjoyed it.  It is a collection of his articles for a magazine called Country Walking and is largely about walking his beloved Lake District.  Opening at random, the first thing I read was his article 'Strides and Sweat Patches'.  It's a lovely piece of writing that expresses something I think I have discovered after a few days of gentle walking but couldn't have begun to put into words.  The best part of a good book in my opinion. 

Here's most of it, see what you think:

“Well, the other day I decided to walk to the pub.  I’d been writing all day in my Lakes lair and decided that a brisk four miles down country lanes to my ‘local’ would set me up for a pint of Black Sheep and a low-cal, high fibre feast of curry and chips.  It’s a route I’ve taken hundreds of times by car but I’ve never walked it before. The difference was a revelation.

For one, I saw things I’ve never seen.  Little coppices and mysterious hollows and clearings in the woodland to the right, a fine crag formation in a nearby farmer’s field, a lonely house with high windows up a hidden driveway.  I’d passed these by often but always as a car passenger where, even at a conservative and law-abiding 30mph, such details are gone in a blink and a blur. 

The journey even felt different.  I could feel the shifts of gradients in my calves and my lungs.  The distances began to take shape in my mind in a way that they never had previously. A village that I’d always thought of as roughly halfway between my place and the pub in fact turned out to be much, much nearer the latter.  When the journey takes six or seven minutes in air-conditioned containment, facts like that don’t mean anything.   But when the journey takes an hour and a quarter and is on foot, distance takes on new meanings as do every contour, vista and curve in the road.

It occurred to me that this is why we walk, to root ourselves in real human experience and real human scope.  The internal combustion engine has had many benefits, it has brought friends and family and the cultural and geographical treasures of many nations closer.  But it has also distorted our perspective of the world, made us lose sight (and sense, smell and touch) of the real physical world.  Walking lets you know how the world really feels again, a world measured in strides and sweat patches.  You literally get your feet back on the ground in a way that recharges the batteries and re-aligns your view of the world to a healthier perspective. 

And of course, the pint and the chips and the curry taste even better for the effort expended in getting to them.”   (p.73-75)      

Two more legs of the Cotswold Way start tomorrow!

Touching the leper

The following is a quote from Jon McGregor's third novel, "Even the dogs..."

Sorry if any of the language offends, but I thought this was a subtle but deliberate (in the context of the novel) allusion to Christ touching the untouchables.  Of course, I might be reading too much into it, but from the title onwards, there are touches in there that seem to allude to the Bible.

The context here is of a homeless man who is addicted to drugs, getting his feet looked at. 

"Sat and waited and when it was his turn he took off his boots and socks and stretched out his feet for her.  One thing the army taught him was how to look after his feet, and he always made sure he had a pair of dry socks to be going on with, always aired his boots at night if he could.  Some things, when you've been doing them every day for years, you get stuck with them no matter how drunk you are. 

Nothing wrong with these feet, the chiropodist told him, cupping one in each hand and running her thumbs along the tendons and joints.  You must be doing something right, she said, smiling.

Didn't forget that one.  Things like that stick with you, even with all the gaps.  Things like then she washed and dried his feet, and cut his toenails, and rubbed away the hardened lumps of skin with a pumice stone before giving him a new pair of socks and asking him to send the next one in. Most people going out of their way not to touch you all day, to not hardly brush up against you or even catch your eye or anything.  And then that.  Washing and drying and holding his feet, one in each hand.  Things like that stick with you, on the whole.  Could sit and wait all day for a thing like that. 

Watching Ant stirring away at the mess in the spoon and remembering all this.  Waiting.   

Same with the hairdressers, when they go running their fingers through your hair.  Same with the nurses, changing your dressings or taking your blood pressure or listening to the crackling in your lungs, they got to touch you with their clean soft hands and no one says nothing about it but it all helps oh Christ but it helps."   (pages 72,73)

I started Even the dogs, thrilling at the beautiful way that McGregor writes - and he certainly does.  But the novel is pretty tough, a relentless circle of drink, drugs, death, and an autopsy thrown in for good measure.  It's cleverly done but not a light beach holiday read.  I still prefer his first novel, "If nobody speaks of remarkable things".

Top Coffee Shop

It didn't look like a Christian Bookshop.  In fact, I went  in to check because it just didn't look right.  It was modern, clean, stylish even and served great coffee, paninis and wonderful soup.  The selection of books was good despite the limited space and the staff seemed like they were all from this planet and were very pleasant with it. 

Everyone knows a shop like this should be a bit shabby, smell slightly musty and be staffed by well-meaning volunteers who don't really know where things are or how the system works.  They have it all wrong at Cornerstone. 

Seriously, Cornerstone of Taunton, take a bow.  We came away with a bag of books, full tums and sense of peace restored after the trauma of a visit to Sports Direct.  Thank you - great job guys!

Dave Gorman v The Rest of the World

Having badly failed to blog the books that I read last year, I need to make a start to the ones I am rattling through  this year.  Not a terribly high-brow selection so far but enjoyable all the same.

This one is a bit of a cheat as I almost completed it in 2011, reading the last twenty pages at 1am on New Year's Day.  Dave Gorman comes across, as always, as thoroughly likable, a little obsessive and whimsical but aren't we all?  In this book he combines his love of playing games and meeting new people by asking if anyone fancies a game.  Thousands replied and in some down time between projects he travels around the UK taking on allcomers at whatever game they fancy.

I came away with a desire to play some new games, and to rediscover taht sense of fun in playing games - why do we hit a certain age when we seem to lack the time or inclination to take pleasure in playing for playings sake?  (A friend of mine recently challenged me on how much pleasure I experience in life - a question that Wesley apparently asked of his people).

Gorman meets a whole bunch of really nice people in his travels and three slightly odd ones.  One of them nearly puts him off asking to play games with people but thankfully doesn't.  Sadly it's someone who seems to have some sort of (odd?) faith but even then I am struck by Dave Gorman's compassion in very trying circumstances. 

So, a good read.  More whimsical than his America Unchained which has interesting observations on the corporate nature of the USA (read last autumn) but just as much fun.      

Depression and stress

My friendly local iron man is visiting us for the weekend to run a half-marathon here and so I have been reading Marcus Trescothick's autobiography in order to finish and return it as I have had it for about two years now. 

Found the battle of Marcus' depression especially interesting and these words which he paraphrases from something he read to make sense of his condition:

"Depressive illness, or at least the commonest form, which is caused by stress, nearly always happens to one type of person.  He or she will have the following characteristics; (moral) strength, reliability, diligence, strong conscience, strong sense of responsibility, a tendency to focus on the needs of others before one's own, sensitivity, vulnerability to criticism, self-esteem dependent on the evaluation of others. 

This person is the sort to whom you would turn if you had a problem to sort out  upon which your house depended, a safe pair of hands you can trust with your life, though often somewhat taken for granted.  People are usually very surprised when he gets ill, indeed he is the last person you would expect to have a breakdown. 

But it isn't so surprising when you consider that depressive illness is a physical condition.  Think about it; give a set of stresses to a person who is weak, cynical or lazy and he will quickly give up.  So he will never get stressed enough to become ill.  A strong person, on the other hand, will react to these pressures by trying to overcome them.  After all, he has overcome every challenge he has faced in the past through diligence and effort.  So he keeps going, absorbing more and more until, inevitably, symptoms emerge.  At this point most people will say, "Hang on this is ridiculous.  I'm doing too much."  So they pull back from the brink before it is too late.  But the sensitive person, without a very solid sense of self-esteem, can't stop struggling, because he fears other people being disappointed in him.  Even more than this he fears being disappointed in himself.  So he keeps on going, on and on and on, until suddenly: BANG!  the fuse blows"  (pages 253-4 in the hardback).

This rings true of my one (very old) experience of a moderate depression and is, I think, a clear warning to all of us.  I guess, reading it from the point of view of a pastor in a church, it is a reminder of how dangerous it is to our health if we think that we can fix everyone and forget that only God can, and how it is equally dangerous to look to other people for approval when it is actually only God's approval that truly matters.  And you don't earn that, it's a gift.  Sometimes we know that in our heads but it gets stuck before it hits our hearts. 

A lesson from a cricket batsman with a Test average just shy of 44.  I think it would be wise to take note.       

More books that I've read in 2011

I've been slack in updating this list but then, I have been busy reading! A good batch of books too.

Living the Cross Centred Life - C.J.Mahaney

This was given me by a friend (thanks Stu!) and was a good solid read. In a time and place where some people get their knickers in a twist over the display of palm crosses in vans (according to the news today, anyway) this book reminds you of the centrality of the cross to faith. 8/10

Glory Days - Julian Hardyman

A book about living all of life as a follower of Jesus which highlights not only the need to bring all of life under his command but also enjoying the pleasures of life as well. In a book that celebrates beauty in life it is, fittingly, beautifully written. 8/10

Church Planting is for Wimps - by Mike McKinley

The idea is that church planting is for w imps because the really hard task is in revitalising a church that is on death's door. His situation was really extreme but I could identify with parts of it and it was an encouraging read. 7/10

The Work of the Pastor - William Still

I've heard this described as a modern classic and "unputdownable" but I managed to quite easily. Some gems in here but the style was probably a little old when written in the sixties and now much of it comes across as rather eccentric. Many great men love this book. I don't. 2/10

Respectable Sins - Jerry Bridges

Included here because I must have re-read it in the course of preaching a series based on it. It's been very well received by the congregation who - like me - have been very challenged by it's contents. Basically, there are no respectable sins, just those that we think don't matter. Great book. 9/10

Fortune's Always Hiding - John Lyall

Those of a theological nature may well be scratching their heads at this point, John was manager of West Ham United during their most successful league campaign - finishing third. Comes across as likable and decent, if a little bit Ron Manager in places. Needed to read something less heavy after William Still. 6/10

Worship Matters - Bob Kauflin

This is a book written for worship leaders in churches but as someone who - by default - often ends up doing this I still benefited greatly from reading it. The emphasis is on the character of the people called to the role rather than just their skills and that applies just as much to Pastors. 8/10

253

The book 253 is by Geoff Ryman. It is the story of 253 characters on a Tube train, each one described in a total of 253 words split under three sections - outward appearance, inside information and what the character is thinking or doing. It's an interesting exercise which sometimes intrigues but more often frustrates because you really want some development in the story. In the end it feels a bit like junk food, you keep consuming it but it isn't as substantial as you hoped.

The Tube meets with a tragic end (it's flagged pretty early so no great spoiler to tell you) and it's interesting to have a snapshot of a diverse group of people and the state of their souls just before the accident. With the awful events in Japan on our screens everyday, it has an even greater poignancy right now but because there is no plot or shape to the book (which is probably the whole point) I am marking it down as a mere 5/10.

Graham Swift - The Light of Day

A good few days away in cloudy Brixham, a chance to read as well as mess around as a family. Got back on track from my slightly wobbly reading choices with Graham Swift's novel. Having enjoyed Last Orders previously, this was a fairly safe choice. Lots of short chapters in this one, an intriguing novel about a private detective with a dubious past who falls for a client. The investigation takes an unusual turn and I probably can't say much more without giving things away, though it's not too tough to see what is going to happen as you go along. 8/10 from me.

Books of 2011, so far

I'm away for a few days with the family to wander around Brixham and read some more. I love to read on holiday. I've done okay on the book front so far this year though and neglected to blog accordingly.

So far it's been:

One Day - David Nicholls 9/10
Winner of the Galaxy chocolate book of 2010 or something but don't be put off by it's popularity to a mass market, it's great. Two students get together on the night of their graduation and the book devotes a chapter to each subsequent anniversary of that date. An easy read but Jonathan Coe likes it too, so it must be intelligent as well.

Last Night In Twisted River - John Irving 9/10
I'm a sucker for Irving, Owen Meaney being an all-time fave. This is him doing what he does so well, again. Echoes of Owen Meaney too in the bizarre death of a mother-figure. The rest of the novel deals with the consequences of a father and son as they go into hiding over it. And, of course, there are bears and wrestlers and writers in this book too.

The Fry Chronicles - Stephen Fry 5/10
Bit disappointed in this. After a while his constant apologising for his background and being miserable about himself get a bit wearing. And I suspect that the interesting stuff about his manic depression is missing - unless it started after this period in his life. Went to two lectures at Cambridge all the time he was there apparently. No wonder he missed out on his first. Ending rather infuriating, mentions a cocaine habit and then tells us we have to wait until the next book for that story.

Preachers, Keep Yourself From Idols - Derek Tidball 6/10
And now for something completely different. This is a month old, from IVP. Thought it would be good to read about the traps preachers can fall into and one or two of the chapters were rather fine. Overall not so great though.

It's Only A Movie - Mark Kermode 4/10
Another autobiography - of sorts. I guess it was a bit specialised for my tastes in terms of some of the films he obsesses over. Some unpleasant stuff on censorship and what is okay to watch - we'd disagree on some of those things but I've never been into horror at all. Don't really get on with his writing style either, all a bit too overblown for me.

As these have been read in the order they appear here, you can see that I need to up my game!

PS - John Irving's book had a fascinating note at the end on how he writes his books. He cannot start to write, he says, until he knows the last sentence. And that last sentence doesn't change in the rest of the process.

From the last sentence he works out a plan to find out how the story comes to that end point. He maps it out to work out a beginning and the characters and where everthing fits. This takes him 12-18 months. Only then does he sit down and write the thing. It took him three years to write "Last Night on Twisted River" once he had his road map in place - which he says is fast for him. Having the germ of the story in his head for twenty years helped him write 'so fast'.

For this reason and for so many others, I will never write a novel!

Mad old woman and the men's books

No the heading has nothing to do with my wife's birthday this week.

With a little time to kill today I found myself in Bridgwater Indoor Market, possibly the most depressing place in Somerset. Even then, it's hard to pass by a pile of books that need to be browed through and I was leafing through when the volunteer (I was in a charity shop) informed me that the men's books were on the shelves 'over there'.

Slightly wary of what I might find, I saw that she was directing me to pile of thrillers and war books. Some odd choices in amongst them - Harry Potter a men's book? - but they were all of a genre.

In the end I made my choice, a Will Self novel that was in the other section. Tongue in cheek, I asked if it would be okay to buy it, even though it was in the women's section. "Whatever, I don't care if you're AC/DC", came the reply.

Good old Bridgwater.

Mirror Mirror

Must make mention of a terrific book that I read on holiday. Mirror, Mirror is a book on self-image written for a primarily Christian audience. Its basic premise is reasonably simple. We tend to get our self-image from what we think people or our culture think of us and so are prey to the vagaries of fashion, mood-swings, passed comments and the like. While that is one mirror that we use, Graham points out that there is a truer mirror in knowing what the Bible says we are like. If this is true then we can live stable and secure lives rather than be blown around by whatever is going on any particular day because we know who we really are.

The book is well illustrated and really well applied – it’s a really practical book. And timely. Self-image is a massive issue for teens (amongst others!) and I guess I have become very aware of this through being more involved with this age group recently. All I seem to hear is self-image from this age group to the point that I fear some will follow Christ so long as he makes them feel good about themselves. But what happens when suffering and persecution come along? What happens when they feel rough and down on themselves or when they realise what a mess they really are?

These are not exclusively teenage problems and I don’t harbour the illusion that I am fully worked out and balanced. Most of us are self-absorbed to an unhealthy degree, some even blog about themselves like they are at all important! But this is a book that will be useful to work through with the teens I am working with and I am looking forward to using it with them.

Church - "French" style

Went to a church in France and upon finding it was a little disappointed to find it was a service in English for a completely ex-pat congregation. Apparently we’d shown up for their monthly most formal service. Another shame.

Frankly it was probably a good experience for me to be bored in a church, it doesn’t happen much. When lots of the service is sung and you aren’t in on the tune they always use then it’s hard not to feel like an outsider. At no point in the service was any mention of the world or the country outside made. We could have been in England had the weather outside not been a giveaway. It did make me wonder how many of our churches are happy to go through the motions and play church while the rest of the world goes about its business unaware and unaffected.

The sermon was ten minutes long and should have been shorter. The preacher contradicted one of the readings at one point during the sermon – though I don’t think they even realised – and missed a great opportunity to expound on a wonderful passage of the gospel. Instead we just got some rambling reflections on what faith is. I didn’t need their opinions, I needed to know what Jesus said. Sadly, I didn’t get that.

I feel mean being this blunt – they were lovely people and this being a French congregation the coffee was fantastic. But it was a timely experience for me. I had read Bill Hybel’s book “Holy Discontent” earlier in the holiday. Basically he advises discovering what winds you up to the point of you having to do something about it. He reckons we all have something that we are driven to do something about in this world and I think mine is about wanting church to be interesting and accessible and creative and showing that the gospel is relevant to everyone today. I appreciate that people like different styles and approaches but in church here I felt alienated and it felt that someone had done their best to hide God. And I think the vast majority of my friends would feel the same way.

Which is why I do what I do.

Rant over. Sorry.

On the shelf

Back along when I was only 40 a kindly soul gave me a book to mark the event. It was by a famous Canadian writer and it wasn't Douglas Coupland and so I thanked them and put it on the shelf. Where it remained for five and a half years (and indeed moved with us across the country).

Well, I've just finished Robertson Davies' The Cunning Man, his last novel before his death, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Enough indeed to go and buy another. Makes me wonder how many other gems lie undisturbed on the bookshelves here.

So thanks Sheila and Reinhard, I got there eventually.