Expanding the Canon without Ditching Shakespeare

The First Shall Be Last…
Greetings fellow readers, writers, and (hopefully) duct tape lovers. Pardon the aside—it’s for those of you who perhaps aren’t aware of my little addiction. But I digress. Our lens of focus should be book-related. So as the final Word blogger of the week, I join the lively conversation with much enthusiasm. As for my stats, I love literature, but then you already knew that from my dandy little bio. Beyond that, I am dismayed because I have no photo-editing software on this computer and can't create a crafty photo like my fellow bloggers. C’est la vie.

Other Things that Matter…
To sum up my literary outlook in 20 words or less, I’m lately thinking about the topic of how the canon can be expanded while still acknowledging the literary giants that provided the platform to do just that.

Collision of Old and New in the Canon
We’ve all heard the familiar rant about only dead white males being allowed into the canon. And I understand the concept behind that. In fact, my personal take is that that we should look to literature across multiple cultures. This has been a popular argument for years, and rightly so. We need to hear new voices and recognize the validity of literature from all communities.

At the same time, there is a reason we revere Tolstoy, Dante, and Shakespeare. In addition to the quality of their works, they opened the door for other writers to follow. For example, imagine William Faulkner without James Joyce (as a model for stream of consciousness) and Sherwood Anderson (to point him in the direction of regional writing)? (Think about the intertexuality idea that all writers influence one another.) That's not to say that being the first writer to experiment with a form guarantees a spot in the canon. But being inventive and exceptionally good is a start.

Why the Canon?
First of all, let’s think about the canon. It’s in our nature to classify everything. We “sum it up” and “boil it down” all in an effort to process information. The canon is our way of classifying the “greatest hits” of literature in an intangible nutshell.

What is “Great” Literature?
Kent convinced us (me, anyway) that writers can push beyond mediocrity, and Marjorie alluded to “quality literature” and the fact that that there are distinctions. Let’s take that a step further. What makes literature great? What makes art great? We could spout a textbook answer, but perhaps beauty is in the eye of the beholder. If you can get something meaningful out of the latest Dean Koontz or John Grisham, who am I to question your authority as a reader?

Yet there are some criteria to evaluate literature. And we can all agree that there are contemporary writers who have certainly earned their place in the canon, such as Gabriel Garcia Marquez, etc.

So…
How do we balance appreciation for classic works and recognition of newer, less conventional works?

Just skimmed/read: Great Short Stories: Fiction from the Masters of World Literature edited by Charles Neider (research)

Currently reading excerpts from: The World of the Short Story edited by Clifton Fadiman (more research)

The Sacred and the Secular

"It is not what a man does that determines whether his work is sacred or secular. It is why he does it." Tozer, A. W. The Pursuit of God.





Our CyberNeighbors
There’s quite a lively discussion over at Notes on traditional versus modern church music, plus technology, etc. Besides serving as a friendly advertisement, I bring this up because I wonder how it applies to book media.


Meanwhile at Home
Pardon the generalization, but it seems we hear much warning against listening to secular music. I can’t recall that same level of warning about books. This is not a complaint, but a musing. Is it because we don’t read books as much as we listen to music? Or that we are more influenced by music than books? Or that secular music is more harmful than secular books? Or something else entirely?

Hungry for More

Do you ever go on “reading jags?” I do.

Let me explain. Sometimes I can’t get enough of an author, a series, or just a topic. Right now I’m reading a lot about Tudor England. P.F. Chisholm’s mystery novels set during Elizabeth I’s reign got me hooked on learning more about that time in history, so I took her recommen-dations of some works of history that are entertaining as well as informative, and started immersing myself in the soap opera of Henry VIII’s marriages. I plan to read several histories, ending with a biography of Elizabeth herself. In between I am treating myself to the rest of the novels Chisholm based on the real-life courtier and man of action Sir Peter Carey. I could read all of the novels one right after the other, but I won’t let myself do that. I like to space them out a little.

Now, English history might bore you to death, but there might be something else that you’d like to learn more about. And there’s no better way to learn, in my opinion, than a well-written, engaging book on the topic. A thoroughly researched novel in the hands of a skillful writer can make you feel like you’re there—whether “there” is Tudor England or the banks of the Amazon or a farm in Indiana. So can a good nonfiction book. The highest compliment I can pay a nonfiction account is that it “read like a good novel”—meaning that I didn’t want to put it down, that I wanted to see what happened, that the writer made me care.

The Big Picture
And that’s why I read. I’ve never really explained it to non-readers, because they never ask me, “Why do you spend so much time reading, anyway?” Good question—if you don’t like reading, it can seem like a waste of time unless it’s a how-to book. I don’t read to learn facts and dates, even when I read history. I read for the stories. I happen to think it is a universal human need to hear stories. As the title of a recent compilation of Joan Didion’s work puts it, “We tell ourselves stories in order to live.” Is it a coincidence that so much of the Bible is in story form, and that Jesus taught in stories? I don’t think so.

Franz Kafka said, “A book is an axe to break the frozen sea within us.” That’s it exactly. Good books touch a deep place inside us and make us more fully human. The writer has gone deep into the heart of human experience and brought back a nugget of truth. When I experience that truth—this is what it was like to be this person, in this struggle, at that time—my heart, mind and soul are widened a little and my empathy and compassion grow. I don’t have to agree with a character’s choices to feel for him or her. I don’t have to agree with the author’s view of the world, especially if there is no possibility for grace to shine through the cracks into the broken places. But I am certainly richer when I have seen the world through eyes other than my own.

So how about you? What books have sent you on a “reading jag”—make you hunger for more?

Currently Reading: Six Wives: The Queens of Henry VIII, by David Starkey

Just Finished: Mindhunter: Inside the FBI's Elite Serial Crimes Unit, by John Douglas and Mark Olshaker

Got Voice?

When I began writing stuff as a teen, the muse would often gift me with the first (or occasionally, the last) sentence of a story or article. It may or may not have been about an idea I was contemplating, yet the words would appear magically, in perfect cadence. This alone could catapult me through the resulting sentences until I completed the work. Sometimes the stuff was good, sometimes not, but the first sentence was always right.

As my skills matured, I created more ambitious writing projects for myself, fiddling around with endings and middles and bullet points and characters, yet still found these separate components drifting in the ozone until the arrival of that glorious first sentence, at which point they would coalesce into a dramatic whole.

As a teen I instinctively realized that this opening enchantment set the piece’s tone and expectations, yet it was only recently that I understood it was actually (the literary term) Voice I was experiencing.

What Do You Hear?

We are each given a unique, God-given perspective to apply to life. The best authors (and musicians and artists) convey that perspective into their work by revealing their Voice. Voice is the ultimate creative intangible, the writer’s signature style simmering with hidden values, wit and wordplay, charm, steely logic, and authenticate emotions.

The Originals resonate and can’t be duplicated, though they are often copied. The Greats meld Voice with refined qualities (insight, talent, sharper use of the artistic tools), while the Immortals combine all this with inspired risk-taking to create singular works within their field. Voice is the essential element in all of this.

The easiest high school lit examples are Faulkner and Hemingway; though most people focus on their differing uses of language, their choice of words is evidence of their individual Voices as the language came after they had discovered their personal creative riverhead.
For Immortal (and even Great) Voices, other deficiencies are forgivable. Two quick examples:

• Hemingway moaned that Dostoyevsky couldn’t write, yet the Russian’s novels unaccountably moved him. They are still considered the most acute psychological fiction in the Western canon.
• Shakespeare’s language veils plot holes, character inconsistencies, and unrealistic parallels. (Would two prominent families actually be going through near-identical family crises as they do in King Lear?) Everyone still focuses on the overripe language.

If you’re trying to write, but after practice, study, and informed instruction find the words still lie limp on the page, it’s because you’re lacking Voice. Keep trying.

Apostolics: As in Writing, So in Music
One reason so many Apostolic artistic efforts are so often mediocre is the individual vision for each work is non-existent. There is no compelling Voice within the writer that believes in its artistic importance, just an urge to write something, “to minister,” as if that were enough.

I mean honestly, when’s the last time you read an Apostolic (non-doctrinal) anything and said, “That’s an important article” or “This book will live beyond my lifetime”? Do we ever open any Apostolic book or magazine, ninetyandnine.com included, and anticipate something powerful enough to rearrange our thinking or even the direction of the Apostolic movement? If not, aren’t we just applauding mediocrity?

It’s time we stopped settling for prairie romances and instead honed our Voices to reach some level of excellence. We must raise our creative ambitions to be godly influencers on our surrounding culture, not just Pentecostals. We must be willing to put in the hard work to make our Voice remarkable, for the more remarkable our Voice, the easier it will be to share God with everyone. Of course, the opposite is also true.

Always End with a Story

An established critic recently declared he never read more than 5 pages of any book until he was sure the writer’s Voice was distinctive enough to be remembered long after the book was finished. Otherwise, no matter how exciting the content, it wasn’t worth his time.

I think he’s right.

Because a written work takes so much more than a perfect first sentence, but it’s the perfect first sentence that frees the Voice to change the world.

Appendix A

Best Author Interview of the Week

David Mitchell author most recently of Black Swan Green, explains:

“Secret architectures are a different blueprint for each book, and it’s a different means of creating that blueprint for each book. In the first three books, the secret architecture was thematic…The visible structure is all in my head from the beginning, but I’m always asking what is this about, and then how can that knowledge feed back into the plot and the action. So this is what I really mean by secret architecture. You need to work out what each section of your book is about. It’s helpful. It saves labour and answers questions.”

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Love to Read? Then join the 90&9 online Book Club here!

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Currently Reading: The Buried Book: The Loss and Rediscovery of the Great Epic of Gilgamesh by David Damrosch; and, the Bono-edited July 2007 Vanity Fair. The ultimate rich-people-&-celebs mag develops a (guest) conscience. It’s got 20 covers and fascinating articles on people making a difference in AIDs-ravaged Africa.

Just Finished: After Dark by Haruki Murakami (Interesting, but definitely a minor work in his oeuvre. Start with his Wild Sheep Chase and then go crazy.)

And I thank you for your kind attention.

Musings of the Amazon-Suckered

First of all, Happy Independence Day! I haven’t read or written anything of a particularly patriotic nature as of late, but I am reading something that has to do with the shaping of America; culturally, that is. But first, I must relate the tale of my Amazon-suckering.

Amazon-suckered?
Yes, indeed. Have you ever been Amazon-suckered? I mean, taken before you ever knew what was coming? Cyber-bamboozled before your very eyes? Don’t get me wrong. I love me some Amazon.com. We go way back. We’re virtually road dawgs. But this time, I'd been had.

There is a special series of books that shows up right before you hit that “order” button that innocently claims: “People who bought this book also bought this.” Fair enough, right? But oh, those people so know what they’re doing. I was advised to buy a book entitled Never Eat Alone by Kevin Ferrazzi. But one of the books in the special series before I hit “order” caught my eye. Urban Tribes by Ethan Watters. The subtitle: Are Friends the New Family? Before I was cognizant of what was really happening, I was taking an Amazon-enabled sneak peek at the book. And before long, it was added to my shopping cart. I took the bait hook, line and sinker. In other words, I was utterly Amazon-suckered.

Urban Tribes
The book seemed so intriguing—a cultural trendspotter’s relating the ways of America’s rapidly growing demographic of single, never-marrieds. He details the whys and wherefores of this group of twenty to mid-thirtysomethings who are all navigating their way through post-college, pre-family life. Whoa! That’s completely me! I began reading it further before even touching the aforementioned recommended book.

So far, Watters offers some interesting points for pondering. He posits that this demographic’s support group, instead of the family unit, is a friend unit. A friend conglomeration, rather, coined an “urban tribe.” Friends provide social and emotional support rather than spouse and children.

Interestingly, it smacks of Blue Like Jazz sans spirituality. The author has the same down-to-earth, anecdotal tone as Don Miller. He uses himself and his friends as examples of the “urban tribe” trend much as Don Miller does the same to illustrate the heartfelt search for God. Also interestingly, though the author does not write from a Christian perspective (read: premarital sex is ubiquitous and acceptable in his world) he still refers to marriage as a standard, a cultural milestone that is still desired.

Has anyone else out there read the book? If so, do you see a resemblance to BLJ or is that just a result of my looking at things through Don Miller-colored glasses? Are there any urban tribe members out there for whom any of this rings true?

Recently finished reading: Sputnik Sweetheart by Haruki Murakami

Channeling a Passion-Explosion

Earlier this summer, I was privileged to experience Matisyahu in concert. Two days later, I suffered from ringing ears. Two weeks later, I was still reeling from emotional trauma … I think I’m scarred for life.

Not all scars are bad, though.

As my friend, Nate, and I walked though the overcrowded parking lot that night, he asked what I thought about the concert. I couldn’t place my finger on my feelings. Too many things were going on in my head. The Alaskan midnight sun set the whole scene as being a bit surreal. My equilibrium was off due to temporary deafness. And I was fighting back the crushing urge to lie down beside Nate’s Subaru and cry. Something was going on inside me.

Now, looking back on that night, I smile and think, Yep, that’s what it is to be a disciple of Jesus in the 21st century.

Let me explain.

After mulling it over, I’ve sorted out my feelings about that night. There was one thing that really rattled my contentment … and it had nothing to do with me being older, white-bread, Apostolic, or a pastor. Simply put, Matisyahu’s passion overwhelmed me.

You see, Matisyahu has this crazy ability to weave lyrics and beat-boxing and music and theology together in a way that fully expresses who he is. And more, he articulates his affection for God in a way that reminds me of David’s psalms; earthy, simple, artistic, reverent, relevant.

And Jesus thumped my heart on this topic. What am I doing with the abilities he gave me? Where is my obsession, my intensity? Then I felt his gentle foot nudging my lazy rear. I want to have a … a passion-explosion … and I want to channel it into something beautiful! I want to express myself, my challenges, my frustrations, my successes, and my experiences in a way that reveals my God’s grace to others.

That’s when realization poured over me. I am a writer! What passion-explosions I’ve experienced were almost always while writing, behind closed doors, where no one saw.

Let me explain it this way. I feel very alive when I write … moving words around on a screen like a chess player setting up for the kill. It’s weird, I know. But other writers understand what it is to create something thought-provoking and potentially life-changing out of nothing but words. To fully express yourself. It's like finally breathing fresh air after too much time in a raunchy public restroom.

And so, from yet another unsuspecting source of inspiration, I am compelled by the master onward to create and instigate and revive … with words. So I write.

And in you, my friend, is there a mixture of heaviness and giddiness and inspiration and frustration when you read an article, or enter a Barnes and Nobles, or when you read the lyrics of your favorite band? You just may be another disciple discovering that Jesus wants a passion-explosion, channeled into words; your words.

What’s this feeling? My love will rip a hole in the ceiling.
I’m giving myself to you from the essence of my being.
And I sing to my God all these songs of love and healing
(excerpt from Matisyahu’s King without a Crown)

~Toby Stevens

http://www.thejourneyanchorage.org/

Apostolic movement: pretentious, intimidated or neither?

"Nothing new under the sun"

For all of you who have uttered the above phrase (this means you Solomon!), check out what 90 & 9 is up to in the month of July!

Let's get this straight

There are some people with whom I choose not to discuss literature. These people typically fall into one of two camps which I label: 1.) the pretentious and 2.) the intimidated. The pretentious folk are those who wield book titles or philosophies like battle axes and reference authors in order to stop conversation. The intimidated are those who view book titles or philosophies like battle axes and so will stop conversation if authors are referenced. The conversation stoppage is key in both cases for why I avoid these conversations in the first place.

Questions I have for the pretentious and intimidated

If I begin to suspect that I've found myself in conversation with one of these kinds of folks, I have a list of questions I pose which, ironically, are the same for both the pretentious and intimidated:

1.) What happens if you don't know everything?
2.) What does it mean if there are people who are more intelligent or well-read than you?
3.) Why are you feeling the need to prove anything to me?

Confession

There are times I have to ask these questions of myself, and what I've noticed about my own tendencies is that for whatever reason around Apostolic folk (vast generalization here), I am more likely to fall into the pretentious mode. At least part of the reason for this is an underlying belief I have that Apostolics should be better read than they generally are. This belief of mine is more accurately represented in the statement that people in general should be better read than they are, but as this blog is supposed to be centered on literature and the Apostolic movement, I'll specify.

What is "better read" (the word "read" used here rhymes with the color)?

Mortimer J. Adler wrote an excellent tome entitled "How to Read a Book" (if you haven't read it yet, try to find an audio recording, har har). In it he cogently explains the difference between being widely read and being well-read. He likens this difference to the difference between information and enlightenment. "To be informed is to know simply that something is the case. To be enlightened is to know, in addition, what it is all about: why it is the case, what its connections are with other facts, in what respects it is the same, in what respects it is different, and so forth." He goes on to explain that the beauty of enlightenment from a book is that "If you ask a book a question, you must answer it yourself...When you question it, it answers you only to the extent that you do the work of thinking and analysis for yourself." Furthermore, it should be noted that not all books are created equal to the task of teaching us just as not all teachers are equally equipped to teach.

Wait! So, why should Apostolics be better read?

Well, the Bible is a book and to be a poor reader of it is to be a very poor Christian indeed. Furthermore, if the only teaching you ever receive is from live persons (aka NOT from reading the Bible) then you've short-changed yourself in the enlightenment department because you've never asked your questions of the text itself. This statement requires an important caveat: remember that if you are doing the work of thinking and analyzing for yourself, you better be a good thinker and analyzer. Hence the need to read more and better quality literature. Reading is an art and thus it requires practice in various genres and styles, but always from the best teachers (aka books) that can be found. Your understanding can only be increased if there is an "initial inequality of understanding" which you, the reader, "must be able to overcome in some degree." (Quotes are more from Adler--everything so far is in the first chapter!) In short, Apostolics should be better read so that they can better read the Bible, increase their understanding of it and thus be better Christians.

Whoa! Are you saying that if I don't read the books deemed "quality" by you then I'm not being a good Christian?

Almost. If you are not reading books that are deemed quality (not just by me but by time and scholarship--click the link above), you are not going to be as good a Christian as you can be because you will never demand from the Bible all that you can get in terms of understanding.

Disagree?

I'm totally open to someone disagreeing with my stringent stance. In fact, to be honest, I'm hoping someone will! I'll even give you a hint about where you can start...there is an underlying assumption in all that I've said that something (I'm not telling you everything!) is an unqualified good. If that thing is not an unqualified good, then my line of reasoning is suspect. You may find other holes in it as well. Or you just might agree whole-heartedly! In any case, what's your take on the Apostolic movement's relation to literature?