Book Review: Little Women

Posted on December 19, 2012 by Barbara Harper

I almost didn’t review Little Women by Louisa May Alcott since it is already so familiar to many people. But I couldn’t resist. It’s one of my all-time favorite books and one of the first classics I remember reading. I don’t know how many times I’ve reread it.

If you’re not familiar with the story, it’s basically about four sisters growing up in a poor family in the 1800s, based loosely on Alcott’s own family:

Meg (short for Margaret) is 16 when the story opens. Pretty, proper, lady-like, domestic, works as a governess, good except for a tendency to covet other girls’ nice things.

Jo (short for Josephine) is 15, tomboyish, spirited, clumsy, creative, dramatic, short-tempered, likes to write.

Beth, 13, is quiet, painfully shy, musical, and doesn’t venture far from home and family.

Amy, 12, is artistic, ladylike, vain, and a little pompous.

Some years ago when this story came up in a conversation, a friend said, “They were so perfect, weren’t they?” No! They were realistically flawed, but each knew their faults and tried to work on them (and did make progress during the course of the book). One scene where everyone is being fractious for various reasons while the mom (Marmee) is trying to get some mail ready that has to go out that day was very true to life in the way family life sometimes goes, even though the specifics from that time to this are different.

The family had been prosperous but suffered some financial reversals. As the story opens the father is away as a Union chaplain in the Civil War and the girls are lamenting that there is no money for Christmas presents. They each have a small amount and decide to buy something special for themselves, but later decide to use their resources to get something nice for Marmee. Those kind of struggles come up repeatedly in the book — facing some temptation (often the tendency to be dissatisfied) and the opportunity to overcome it or succumb. Sometimes they do one, sometimes the other, but always they learn from it.

When I read this as a child, I was enthralled with the activities the girls amused themselves with (their own newspaper, plays, etc.) and the striving to be good. When I read it as a young woman, I identified with Meg just after she married — the hilarious scene when the jelly wouldn’t gel after working with it all day, and tired, frustrated, and at the end of herself, that’s the day her husband brings a guest home to dinner unexpectedly. She had told him to feel free to do so and wanted to be a good little wife, but the desire clashed with reality that day. Then another day she overspent and dreaded having to tell her hard-working husband (I had a similar experience as a newlywed). At this reading I still identified with Meg a lot (in personality I’m a combination of Meg and Beth), but I found more in common with Marmee, trying to raise these spirited young people. But I also identified with Jo — not so much in her boyish tendencies but in her bumbling growth and her writing. The scenes where she is so lonely (for a couple of reasons which I don’t want to give away, if you’ve not read the book) and looking for what to do with her life are full of pathos.

In my earlier reading I had thought this book had a Christian underpinning. Later I learned that Alcott’s family were Transcendentalists. I’m still not entirely sure what that is: Wikipedia wasn’t much help. I would disagree about the inherent goodness of people (since the Bible says we are all inherently sinful and need a Savior). My friend Ann teaches high school English and discusses this — I’d love to hear that lesson! (In lieu of that maybe you could send me your notes, Ann. 🙂 ) There are spiritual principles mentioned and reference to asking God for help.

Other themes include hard work, individuality, the pleasures of home, the benefits of poverty, ministering to those even poorer than themselves. Some say there are early feminist tendrils in this book — I need to read more about Alcott some time to know what her views were. The Wikipedia article on her says she was involved with women’s suffrage, and that kind of thinking is clear in the book, but I don’t think she was into the extreme feminism of eschewing marriage and homemaking, especially since she does magnify home life and domesticity. She does show that every woman’s life and personality may not look exactly the same, and I’d agree with her there. Meg and Jo clash over this more than once.

I enjoyed re-experiencing many scenes, but I was surprised at some I had forgotten. One was a time when the girls were longing not to have to work, and Marmee gave them their way for a week or so. At first they reveled in their freedom, but soon grew restless. Then Marmee further reinforced the lesson by taking a short vacation herself to let the girls experience what happens when all those little humdrum duties aren’t taken care of. In this and other ways the book is a little more didactic than modern readers tend to like, yet this book has been beloved for over a hundred years.

I also rewatched the Winona Ryder version of the film Little Women during the course of this book. It did differ from the book much more than I had remembered — some lines show up in different situations than in the book, some scenes are out of order, Jo doesn’t write that kind of book at the end (in that I think they followed one of the older films, either with Katherine Hepburn or June Allyson as Jo — I think the former). There is one scene with Jo and Professor Bhaer discussing transcendentalism and German philosophers which was not in the book (I think designed to show the author’s background a bit) that was not in the book, but otherwise they didn’t add in unnecessary and irrelevant scenes and people, and I think they kept close to the spirit of the book. I still enjoy it despite the differences, and some scenes are very close to the book (Jo attending a dance with a burn mark on the back of her dress, which she tries to keep hidden, and meeting Laurie in the process, Amy’s near-drowning).

I listened to the book this time via audiobook. This type of book — a classic that I love to reread but can’t always work into my regular reading — is one of the best uses of audiobooks for me. I wasn’t thrilled with this particular narrator: she was okay but didn’t do much with different voices. But overall I thoroughly enjoyed learning and growing again with Little Women.

(This review will also be linked to Semicolon‘s Saturday Review of Books.)

Let the Stable Still Astonish

Posted on December 16, 2012 by Barbara Harper

Let the Stable Still Astonish

Let the stable still astonish:
Straw-dirt floor, dull eyes,
Dusty flanks of donkeys, oxen;
Crumbling, crooked walls;
No bed to carry that pain,

And then, the child,
Rag-wrapped, laid to cry
In a trough.
Who would have chosen this?
Who would have said: “Yes,
Let the God of all the heavens and earth
Be born here, in this place”?
Who but the same God
Who stands in the darker, fouler rooms
of our hearts and says, “Yes,
let the God of Heaven and Earth
be born here–
in this place.”

– Leslie Leyland Fields

Laudable Linkage

Posted on December 15, 2012 by Barbara Harper

It has been a while since I’ve shared links of interest. Here are some I’ve found profitable the last few weeks:

Rachel Weeping For Her Children — The Massacre in Connecticut.

The tension of “God is good” and “It shouldn’t be this way.” I saw this the day before the tragedy in CT, but it is certainly apropos.

Newsweek vs. the New Testament. “So, in the waning days of Newsweek as a print magazine, the editors decided to take on the New Testament. Readers should note carefully that it is Newsweek, and not the New Testament, that is going out of print.”

10 Holiday Survival Tips for 2012 if you holidays are much less than merry.

Five Habits for Holiday Happiness.

How to Help the Hurting.

Misused Reasons to Abandon Christmas: #3 God Didn’t Command It, HT to Diane. Deftly answers the charge that “if God didn’t command it we shouldn’t do it” in regards to Christmas but could well be applied to many areas. Others in the series have to do with the supposed pagan origins of Christmas and “It’s the wrong date.” He’s not saying anyone should or should not celebrate, just pointing out the flaws in these arguments.

Obedience and Gospel-centered Mothering. The two are not antithetical.

What Do Men Really Want in a Wife?

The Best Christmas DIYs and Crafts Ever.

And finally, this is just too cute: a kid’s gospel quartet. I couldn’t get the video to embed here and it doesn’t seem to be on YouTube, but hopefully you can see it on Facebook here.

Friday’s Fave Five

Posted on December 14, 2012 by Barbara Harper

Welcome to Friday’s Fave Five, hosted by Susanne at Living to Tell the Story, in which we can share five of our favorite things from the last week, a wonderful exercise in looking for and appreciating the good things God blesses us with. Click on the button to learn more, then go to Susanne’s to read others’ faves and link up your own.

It’s been a busy but enjoyable week. Here are some favorite parts of it:

1. Jim is feeling much better. Still runs out of energy by evening and still has a cough but he is much better than he was last week.

2. Unexpected refunds. One company I ordered from online for the first time sent me an e-mail that they hadn’t gotten my order out when originally planned, so they refunded the shipping charges. Since I had ordered early for Christmas and it wasn’t “crunch time,” I hadn’t even really noticed that the order wasn’t in on time, but I appreciate the integrity of this company. Then we decided that something we ordered from another company wasn’t what we needed, and when I contacted them to send it back, they sent us a refund but said we didn’t need to return it.

3. Another bird feeder. I put a feeder containing suet up just outside the window by my desk, where hanging plants were in the spring and summer. It took a while for the birds to find it but now I see them there regularly and more close-up than the bird feeder by the tree. But I can’t seem to get a picture — I guess they’re close enough that they see or sense movement and fly off when I reach for the camera. Maybe they’ll get used to me after a while.

4. Caroling for “at-home” members. Last Sunday night our church broke up into smaller groups and took care baskets to some of our older members who can’t get out to church much and sang Christmas carols to them. My mother-in-law was one of those whom they went to. I wasn’t able to go but Jim said it went really well. Sometimes she’s too sleepy to interact much, but he said she sang along with some of the songs and enjoyed the visit.

5. Pumpkin Spice Swirl Bread. I passed by a display of this in the grocery store and then went back to pick one up. It’s more like regular sandwich bread with a bit of pumpkin and cinnamon flavor than regular pumpkin bread, but it makes good toast and is a nice seasonal change.

Hope you have a great week!

A Christmas memory

Posted on December 13, 2012 by Barbara Harper

Susan at By Grace shared a Christmas memory last week, and that started my wheels turning, so I thought I’d do the same. I’ve shared this particular one before, but maybe some have not seen it or have forgotten it.

My husband and I were married Dec. 21. We didn’t have a honeymoon — we could not afford one and didn’t have time because we were both still college students. I had “crammed four years into five” as the saying goes and was in my second senior year, so I only had three classes left for my last semester.

We spent our first night in a hotel in Houston and planned to go back to my folks house the next day to pack up my things in a U-Haul and then start the drive back to SC. But something went wrong with our car and we ended up having to stay overnight. We couldn’t afford a second night in a hotel room, so we stayed with my folks…and let me tell you, it felt very awkward bringing my new husband into my old bedroom at the ol’ home place on just our second night together!

We started out the next day, I believe, and must’ve stayed overnight somewhere in-between because we got to SC about 11 p.m. Christmas Eve. We were renting a furnished mobile home from one of our college professors. We hadn’t seen it yet: at the time we talked with him, the trailers he had were occupied but he was in the process of buying another one and said we could rent it. So this trailer and location were new to him as well. We called him when we got into town and he took us over to the trailer, showed us around, gave us the keys, and invited us to a Christmas banquet that the university was having the next day.

We unpacked just what we needed for the night and fell into bed. First thing the next morning, Christmas morning, we were startled awake by very loud and insistent pounding on our door. My husband scrambled himself together enough to open the door when what should his wondering eyes behold but a short grey-haired man — with no beard, no red suit, and a decidedly unjolly expression.

It turned out to be the man who owned the mobile home park. He had not been told that anyone new was moving in, and furthermore, he did not allow renters. He was very upset. I don’t know how the transaction had occurred between our landlord and the previous owners without taking into account the need to contact the landlord of the mobile home park — maybe they each understood the other was going to do that. I don’t remember exactly what Jim told him: something to the effect that we were sorry, we didn’t know, we’d have our landlord contact him.

When we went to the Christmas banquet we explained the situation, and the professor met with the trailer park owner and worked things out so that we were allowed to stay. So we had two landlords, one for the trailer and one for the space we were renting.

It was the nicest trailer park I had ever seen, with only fourteen trailers, a good amount of space between trailers, and a lot of trees. The owner was a shuffling little old man who wasn’t a physical threat to anyone, but he had an air of authority about him and drove through through the park several times a day to check on things. Looking at the situation from his point of view, his reaction was quite understandable, though it was disconcerting to us to find out that someone was very upset with us and we might be kicked out of our first place to live on Christmas day. But once that was settled we had a very amiable relationship for the six years we lived there.

I had a little two-foot-high aluminum tree that had belonged to my grandfather, and we hit the after-Christmas sales the next day for a few decorations and celebrated our first Christmas together a few days late. I don’t remember anything else about that first Christmas except for one pair of ornaments we bought.

The brown-haired boy represented Jim, and the blond girl represented me, and they were made of wax. But one year they got a little melted up in the attic. I couldn’t even get them out of the plastic bags because they were stuck. I don’t know why I haven’t thrown them away. Well, yes I do: I’m sentimental. I put all my Christmas candles in a box in a storage closest now so they don’t melt any more up in the attic, and I keep these in with them.

Despite that inauspicious beginning, we’re coming up on our 33rd Christmas together! Thankfully I think all the rest of them were relatively happy, as far as I can remember: the only one other one I remember having any problems was one when all five of us were sick as dogs. All the rest contained some combination of family, food, gifts, and most important, faith in the One whose birth we celebrate that day and who came to offer salvation to all who would believe.

Book Review: Unless It Moves the Human Heart

Posted on December 12, 2012 by Barbara Harper

I’ve hadn’t read anything of Roger Rosenblatt’s before, but somehow the name sounded a little familiar when I first saw the book Unless It Moves the Human Heart: The Craft and Art of Writing. The title grabbed me. Anyone who has any aspirations to write has, I think, the desire to touch someone else in some way; otherwise we’d just keep private journals.

Rosenblatt has written and won awards for columns, essays, books, and novels. He styled this book as one of his writing classes. These particular students and conversations are fictitious, but I am sure they are drawn from classes he has taught over the years. Neither the book nor the classes are very systematic: he says later in the book what I had already figured out, that he will come to class with a plan but a question from a student will carry the lesson into another direction. The interchanges do seem more like conversations than lessons, but that probably keeps them more interesting. “I may permanently forget whatever it was I originally planned to say. But it is much more exciting to allow oneself to be swung into a new and foreign path, just as in writing when you find yourself in the midst of the strangest sentence, and wonder how you got there” (p. 116).

He does work various principles into the conversations, the main one being restraint (“if you have the goods, there’s no need to dress them up,” p. 88) and “the preference of the noun to the adjective and the verb to the adverb” (p. 148), but even there he admits that “if I had foisted my preference on Keats, there would have been no Keats. And ‘rosy-fingered dawn’ is a …lot more beautiful than ‘dawn'” (p. 131).

The first part of the book had me thinking, “Wow, this is neat! I’d love to attend a class like this.” The second part had me disagreeing with him in spots.

Some of the parts I especially liked:

In a section on short stories, he says, “You know the character and his or her situation from the opening. You even know what’s likely to happen. The story is about why what you know matters” (p. 12). It struck me that in a sense that’s true of even longer stories and books. Something may be completely predictable and yet still be enjoyed because of what matters in the story.

“If we look like we’re trying to change the world, the writing will sink from the weight of its own piety. But in the best of our work, the idealism is there, like trout below the surface of the water. Of course you want to try to change the world. You just don’t want to show your cards. But look at the world. Who would not want to change it? Books count. They disturb people” (p. 59).

“There’s no purpose to writing unless you believe in significant things — right over wrong, good over evil. Your writing may deal with the gray areas between the absolutes, and all the relativities that life requires. But you still need to acknowledge that the absolutes exist, and that you are on the side of the angels” (p. 60).

“Writing is the cure for the disease of living. Doing it may sometimes feel like an escape from the world, but at its best moments it is an act of rescue. Each of you has his own way of seeing into suffering and error. But you share the desire to save the world from its blights by going deeper into them until they lie exposed. You show up the imperfections of living for what they are. You hope to write them out of existence” (p. 60).

Reading good writers “is like hanging around with a superior mind. You can never equal that mind, but you strive to do your best, and not to embarrass yourself in his presence” (p. 92).

Then there were things I wasn’t sure that I agreed with, like the following:

In contrasting writers to journalists, who have to clearly communicate, the author says “There’s a mystery to the art of writing. You write, yet you don’t always understand what you’ve written. And you’re not always understood. And you’re never fully understood. And this is a good thing– dwelling in and creating mysteries” (p. 74). I can see that to some extent, but I’d think even fiction writers want readers to understand what they’re trying to convey. Some of this kind of philosophizing got a little too metaphysical for me.

Likewise he says of a memoir, “A pure memoir meanders without achieving meaning. It avoids meaning — more like fiction that is real” (p. 88). If he means there’s no symbolism, ulterior motives or infused meaning of the writer, etc., I can agree with that. Yet I wouldn’t say there is no meaning, else no one would read it. There has to be some meaning to the life written about, the things the character did and learned. Personally I’ve drawn a lot of meaning — or maybe a better word would be inspiration — from reading biographies.

“A poet tries to identify a situation or an emotion as accurately as possible…At the same time, the poet knows that perfect identification is impossible, I think that’s where imperfection is the same thing as divine” (p. 129-130). Saying that imperfection is divine seems oxymoronic to me.

This a short book at 155 pages and reads easily. I liked the banter between Rosenblatt and his students and the fact that his representative students were a variety of ages, some even older than myself, rather than just college age. It is a secular book, so there are a few words and illustrations that I would personally find offensive but understand their being in a book like this. I enjoyed the variety of other writings that he referred to, some of which I want to explore further. Overall I found some good instruction and a lot of inspiration and food for thought in this book.

(This review will also be linked to Semicolon‘s Saturday Review of Books.)

What does it mean to magnify the Lord?

Posted on December 11, 2012 by Barbara Harper

During the brief four years we home-schooled, one of the biggest helps was a great support group, and one of their activities was a monthly meeting where we sometimes had guest speakers (my favorite was Booker T. Washington’s granddaughter — she gave quite a fascinating talk), sometimes had the kids doing activities, like an annual talent show, and sometimes members of the group would speak about their work or hobbies. One time my husband, whose job title for many years was Research Microscopist and who collects, buys, and sells microscopes, spoke about microscopes and brought a few for kids to look at whatever they wanted to under the microscope. He also spoke about Psalm 34:3: “O magnify the LORD with me, and let us exalt his name together.” He pointed out that we don’t make God bigger than He is: He’s already so big we can’t comprehend it. But we focus on Him, bringing out thoughts of His greatness.

I’m rereading Let Every Heart Prepare Him Room: Daily Family Devotions for Advent by Nancy Guthrie, and the selection for today comes from Mary’s song after learning that she will be the mother of the Messiah. “And Mary said, My soul doth magnify the Lord, And my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour” (Luke 1:46-47). Guthrie explores the concept of what it means to magnify God and says:

The truth is, we can never fully take in or understand God’s greatness. But we can magnify Him. We magnify God not by making Him bigger than He truly is, but by making Him greater in our thoughts, in our affections, in our memories, and in our expectations. We magnify Him by having higher, larger, and truer thoughts of Him. We magnify Him by praising Him and telling others about His greatness so they can have bigger thoughts about Him, too.

I looked up the meaning of “magnify” in Dictionary.com, and part of the definition is: “to cause to seem greater or more important; attribute … importance to; to intensify; dramatize; heighten; to extol; praise.”

Mary magnified Him out of joy and gladness. The psalmist (Psalm 64 and 69) magnified Him out of deep need and affliction. They both speak of deliverance and answered prayer and expectation. The KJV speaks once of God magnifying Himself: “Thus will I magnify myself, and sanctify myself; and I will be known in the eyes of many nations, and they shall know that I am the Lord” (Ezekiel 38:23).

I don’t think God “needs” us to magnify Him: He doesn’t have an ego that needs stroking. Even when He magnified Himself, the purpose was that others would know who He was. But we need to magnify Him. It’s so easy to magnify the cares of this world, our needs, our weaknesses, our duties. That gets discouraging, distracting, defeating. But when we magnify Him, we see Him as He truly is, we remember how great and good He is, how He has strength He will provide us in our weakness, how He can easily take care of whatever need we have. The more we praise Him, the more rightly we relate to Him, then the more we praise Him and testify of Him to others, so they can focus on Him and see for themselves how great He is and how He can meet their needs as well. The more we magnify Him, the more we worship Him.

I will praise the name of God with a song, and will magnify him with thanksgiving.
This also shall please the Lord better than an ox or bullock that hath horns and hoofs.
The humble shall see this, and be glad: and your heart shall live that seek God.
Psalm 69:30-32.

Missing My Mom

Posted on December 10, 2012 by Barbara Harper

It was 7 years ago today that my husband and I were at a Sunday School Christmas party and received a phone call from home to call my sister who had been trying to reach us. We glanced at our cell phones and saw we had missed multiple calls, hadn’t heard them over the conversations. We thought, “Oh, no, Mom must be in the hospital again.” My mom had been hospitalized with congestive heart failure several times. But, no, this time the stunning news was that my mom had passed away suddenly due to a massive heart attack.

You can imagine the awful time that followed — the sadness, the tears, the scrambling to get a flight to TX, and so on. In many ways that was one of the worst weeks of my life.

But even in the midst of tragedy, we saw God’s hand of blessing in many ways (I wrote in more detail about it here):

My mom had not wanted to die in the hospital or to die alone: she died in a car with my sister and nephew.
Many people extended themselves to show love and support in many ways.
We had treasured time with immediate and extended family.
My former pastor was asked to conduct the funeral and shared a wonderful and tender message of the gospel.
I had prayed for God to send Christian people across my mom’s path and was warmed to hear people saying “Amen” and “That’s right” during the message at the funeral.
It was the first time we had left Jeremy home alone for several days. He was in the midst of college finals. He did fine even amidst the power going off in an ice storm.
When we got back in the midst of said ice storm we had to go pick up Jason from the college dorms (he stayed in the dorms that year while Jeremy commuted from home), about 20 minutes one way to get him and then about 30 or more to get back home, and made it safely.

Days like today, her birthday, Mother’s Day, and odd moments in-between will always have their pangs, their intense moments of missing her. Last year I reposted Christmas Grief, focusing on getting through the holiday “froth” when you’re not really feeling holiday cheer, and also last year I was able to do a newspaper column on Christmas Grief, Christmas Hope, focusing more on the hope we can cling to of seeing our loved ones again because Jesus died to redeem us. I wanted to mention those for anyone else having a hard time this season. Thankfully these losses don’t overshadow the season like they did at first, but they do provide some moments to pause and reflect and remember.

Friday’s Five Friday

Posted on December 7, 2012 by Barbara Harper

It’s not been one of the very best weeks — poor hubby has been sick for a week now. Some weeks you have to look a little harder for some good points, but there are almost always some to be found.

1. Medicine. Jim had been holding off going to the doctor, figuring if he had just a cold or even the flu it would just need to run its course. But it had gone on a long time and the weekend was coming up, so we thought maybe he should try to get in in case of strep or an infection. He was given an antibiotic for bronchitis and prednisone for swelling and inflammation, so hopefully once those kick in he’ll start to mend.

2. The Children’s Christmas program at our church Sunday night. They do the exact same program with kids each year (except they may do different songs): a portrayal of Christ’s birth with Mary, Joseph, the inn keeper, shepherds, wise men, angels, etc. The cutest are the little ones in animal costumes made like footie pajamas. I wasn’t even sure I was going to go that night — Jim was home sick, I hadn’t been feeling all that great that morning, I thought, “It’s just going to be the same thing as last year…” But I am glad I did. It was enjoyable and those programs help set the tone for the season.

3. This sweet carol sung by some of the older girls in the children’s program.

4. Cozy books are always a fave, but I just finished an audiobook of At Home in Mitford and started Little Women. They make me want to curl up with a blanket and keep listening, but I try to keep them to when I am driving or curling my hair, etc.

5. Watching Little Women (the Winona Ryder version) with my daughter-in-law one evening when they were here to do laundry. My son was there, too, but I think he was working on something on the computer most of the time. I had been wanting to watch it in conjunction with reading the book (no worry about spoilers since I had read the book and seen the DVD many times before) and because, though it’s not specifically a Christmas story, it begins at Christmas and has another significant Christmas in it. It was fun to watch it with Mittu.

Hope you have a great weekend! I’m hoping to catch up on what I didn’t get done this week: Christmas cards!

Book Review: At Home in Mitford

Posted on December 6, 2012 by Barbara Harper

I first encountered Jan Karon in the pages of Victoria magazine some years ago. Victoria chooses a “Writer-in-residence” whose work they showcase in each issue throughout the year, and Jan was featured one year. I loved her warmth and hominess and clear faith depicted — in fact, I was surprised and pleased that a secular magazine would feature a writer whose faith was integral to her stories. I believe it was there I also first heard of and then sought out Mitford.

At Home in Mitford is the story of Father Tim Cavanaugh, a nearly 60 year old single Episcopal priest ministering in a fictional small town in NC which is replete with colorful and sometimes eccentric characters. He is so busy with his parish that he hasn’t been on a vacation in years and can’t seem to get away for more than a day or two, and the strain is starting to show.

Then unexpectedly a dog “as big as a Buick” comes bounding into his life, an untamed, neglected boy comes into his care, and a new enchanting neighbor “pops through the hedge” to visit. The discovery of stolen jewels weighs heavily on him, he’s asked to bear burdens and secrets of his people, and a condition of his own begins to manifest itself.

I strongly disagree with this assessment that Karon “satirizes Father Tim and the citizens of Mitford.” I see no satire here at all but rather realism, warmth, humor, and pathos. The characters are clearly and lovingly drawn with flaws, quirks, and endearing features intertwined realistically. As I mentioned earlier, there is a warmth, a hominess, a coziness in Karon’s stories. Here is one example when Father Tim goes to the home of good friends for dinner:

In the center of the kitchen was a large pine table, bleached by age, with benches on either side. A mason jar of early wildflowers sat in the center, along with a deep-dish apple pie, fresh from the oven. A dazzling beam of light fell through the windows that looked out to the stables.

Their guest stood transfixed. “A foretaste of heaven!” he said, feeling an instant freshness of spirit.

And then follows gently irony as he muses on the fact that everything is calm and peaceful and nothing dramatic or surprising happens there just before he’s blindsided by major news (good news this time.)

I enjoyed as well the beginnings of a “older” romance later in the book. It’s nice to see love stories aren’t just for the young. 🙂

Karon also weaves quotes from various authors, poets, and preachers throughout the book. She must be widely read but does not come across as pretentious at all.

I don’t know if her books would be classified as Christian fiction: I don’t think so. But faith is integral to the story. I had not know much about Episcopalianism before reading this book and I don’t know all the fine points of their beliefs, but the gospel is quite clearly and naturally presented.

Later books were a bit too ecumenical for me, but I could read them as a continuing part of the story, acknowledging but not agreeing with some of the happenings. The one thing that particularly bugged me was that many characters have a tendency to say “Good Lord!” or “Oh Lord,” which I perceive as taking the Lord’s name in vain, using something holy and glorious as an empty epithet. It was often said that Father Tim used such phrases as a prayer, though.

I was surprised to learn recently that this book started out as a weekly newspaper column and was begun when Jan was nearly 50 (that gives me hope that there may be a story in me yet!)

When I first read the books however many years ago, I borrowed them from the library. This time I listened to the audiobook read by stage actor John McDonough. It took me a while to get into his style. He seemed a little ponderous at first, but in some parts he reminded me of a beloved pastor from my teen and college years, and once I got into the story I enjoyed his rendition very much. Mitford is not a place to rush through, but to sit down, relax, and take your time.

I thoroughly enjoyed this revisit. the only problem now is that I want to sit down and devour the rest of the books in the series. But I’ll look forward to delving into a few more of them next year.

(This review will also be linked to Semicolon‘s Saturday Review of Books.)