Some weeks ago I saw Robin Lee Hatcher offering advance copies of her book When Love Blooms in exchange for reviews. Sounded like a good deal to me!

When Love Blooms is set in Idaho in the latter 1800s. Emily Harris has been caring for her sister and nephew and their household during a serious illness, but everything is back to normal now, and she is at a restless crossroads in her life, wondering what to do next. She sees an ad in a newspaper for a governess for two young children at a mountain ranch.

The ad has been placed by Drucilla Blake, who is dying of cancer. Emily sees that she is not well, but the full extent of her illness is not yet made known. Also unknown to anyone else is Dru’s ulterior motive: to find someone to take her place when she is gone, someone that her husband and children could love.

Even Dru’s husband, Gavin Blake, is unaware of the real reason Dru wants to hire someone to help with the children, but he knows, with her illness, she could use the assistance. However, he is unimpressed with her choice of Emily: he doesn’t believe the wealthy, high-society young woman will last until spring in the harsher conditions of mountain ranch life.

A city woman proving herself in the country, a dying wife and mother seeking for someone to care for her family…it may seem like these story lines have been explored before, and they have — yet Robin weaves them together with unexpected backgrounds and underlying feelings and motives of the characters to make it all seem new.

Though I would describe the book as an easy read, it deals with weightier themes: Gavin’s lack of faith in God and his bitterness over his own mother’s actions; Dru’s illness and her daughters’ adjustments; Emily’s fortitude in dealing with difficultulties she encounters; each character’s seeking God for direction, help, and comfort.

Overall I enjoyed the book, though I did wince a little at the line, “[Emily] wanted to do something before she got married. She wanted to make some sort of difference in the world.” Having been married for nearly 30 years, I do understand that being a wife and mother takes priority and can often preclude other endevaors, so I can understand wanting to accomplish certain things befiore marriage, but this line almost makes it sound like getting married is a lesser goal, a lack of “doing something” worthwhile in the world. And Emily’s and Gavin’s feelings for each other are awkward and uncomfortable to read about at first, though their actions are honorable and they fight against those feelings until it is proper. But I think the rest of the story overrides these two uncomfortable areas, and everything is brought to rights at the end. I am happy to recommend it.

The Centurion’s Wife by Janette Oke and Davis Bunn is set in Israel immediately after the crucifixion and resurrection of Christ.

Leah is the niece of Pilate, but due to a financial disaster in her family, she becomes a servant to Pilate’s wife, Procula, until a marriage can be arranged for her. Leah does not want to marry, but her pleadings avail little. Procula had had troubling dreams about Jesus during His trial which continue to plague her, and she sends Leah out to try to find the disciples of Christ and learn what she can about whether revolt is planned among them. She befriends some of the women who followed Christ and is drawn to them while at the same time she is increasingly troubled about her impending arranged marriage.

Pilate had thought he appeased the Jews by giving them the crucifixion of Christ which they had clamored for, but now with the news that Jesus’ grave is open and His body missing, Pilate is concerned that His followers are planning a revolt. One of his centurions, Alban, has a good relationship with the Jews in his area, so Pilate sends him to learn what is going on and to ferret out any information he can. Alban is the centurion whose servant Jesus healed and whose faith Jesus praised, yet in this story it is thought that the faith that his servant could be healed was not quite yet saving faith. Alban sets out first of all to find the soldiers assigned to guard Jesus’ tomb: something doesn’t quite add up, because if the disciples had broken into the tomb and stolen Jesus’ body, the soldiers on guard would have been killed for letting that happen. But they are alive, and Alban wants to hear their side of the story.

What Alban and Leah both find separately has profound implications for their future.

I have to admit I approach Biblically-based fiction somewhat warily. It has to be understood that the events and personalities beyond what the Bible delineates are products of the authors’ imaginations, and sometimes an author’s characterization can ring not quite true with one’s own summations. But I have read all of Janette Oke’s books and many of Davis Bunn’s, and I felt they wouldn’t go too far afield. I just happened to pick this book up just after Easter, the same time setting as the book, and it brought to mind what that time must have been like. Pilate thought he had closed a chapter in regard to Jesus but now finds he may have more trouble than before; the disciples are convinced at this point that Jesus has risen and they are waiting, at His command, but they don’t know what is next; other people don’t know what to make of the events. It’s easy to imagine the incredulity many experienced upon first hearing that Jesus is not just missing, but resurrected, yet for several reasons they can’t just dismiss the possibility.

It took me several chapters to really connect with the characters, but I can’t put my finger on exactly why: perhaps it was just that initial confusion and unrest conveyed by the times carrying over into my perceptions. But I did feel more drawn in as the story progressed. I enjoyed “meeting” some of the early disciples: my favorite was Martha. I felt her personality was the most well-developed and realistic. Every church kitchen has a lady like her: bustling, efficient, matter-of-fact, perhaps a little too blunt, yet she had learned well the lesson Christ taught her. Mary Magdalene seemed the least well-developed and almost a little too other-worldly to me.

Overall I enjoyed the book and am looking forward to the next in the series.

The folks at 5 Minutes For Books host What’s On Your Nightstand? the last Tuesday of each month in which we can share about the books we have been reading and plan to read. You can learn more about it by clicking the link or the button.

I was surprised at first to find that I had not participated in this since January, but then I remembered that was primarily because I was still in the unabridged Les Miserables and  To the Golden Shore all those months and didn’t want to just keep listing the same books.

I did finally finish Les Miserables and reviewed it here. I am still working on classic missionary biography To the Golden Shore by Courtney Anderson about Americas’ first missionary, Adoniram Judson. I just recently started In Trouble and In Joy: Four Women Who Lived for God by Sharon James, a collection of short biographies and writing excerpts of four women: Margaret Baxter, wife of Puritan preacher Richard Baxter; Sarah Edwards, wife of Jonathan Edwards; Anne Steele and Frances Ridley Havergal, both hymn writers. Anne was the only one I knew nothing about before the book. I’ve only just started it within the last week or so, so it is too early to have much of an opinion on it yet.

I read The Centurion’s Wife by Janette Oke and Davis Bunn but haven’t had a chance to review it yet. It is set during the time just after the crucifixion and resurrection of Christ, about a young woman, Leah, who is a servant to Pilate’s wife, sent out by her mistress to find out more about Christ’s followers and their intentions. She is betrothed against her will to a centurion who is sent out by Pilate on the same mission. It took me a while to get into the book, but overall I enjoyed it. I hadn’t specifically planned to read it just after Easter, the same time frame as the book, but that’s when I happened to start it, and it added a nice dimension to enter into their experiences around the same season as the setting of the book.

I also completed Passionate Housewives Desperate For God by Jennie Chauncey and Stacy McDonald, a book primarily encouraging stay-at-home wives and mothers. Overall it was good, but there were a couple of things I wouldn’t agree with quite 100% the way they were presented. More on that when I am able to review it.

I also read the last of the Four Seasons of Marriage books by Palmer and Chapman, Winter Turns to Spring.

I am not sure which of the books on my Spring Reading Thing list I will pick up next, but I would like to go through some of the Christian fiction books I have listed there.

I have also been consistently reading a daily devotional book titled Our Daily Walk by F. B. Meyer. I am convinced it is the devotional book for me for this year. It has ministered to me greatly and I have quoted from it several times here.

You can join in sharing what’s on your nightstand or see others’ entries here.

The weekly Booking Through Thursday question for today is:

Suggested by Barbara:

My husband is not an avid reader, and he used to get very frustrated in college when teachers would insist discussing symbolism in a literary work when there didn’t seem to him to be any. He felt that writers often just wrote the story for the story’s sake and other people read symbolism into it.

It does seem like modern fiction just “tells the story” without much symbolism. Is symbolism an older literary device, like excessive description, that is not used much any more? Do you think there was as much symbolism as English teachers seemed to think? What are some examples of symbolism from your reading?

Wow, I was surprised to see my question pop up today! Unfortunately it’s a day when I don’t have a lot of extra time to deal with it, but I’ll look forward to see what others had to say when I can.

I haven’t read a lot of modern fiction, but it does seem to me that, just as there is more free verse poetry now than the more heavily structured kind, fiction seems more “free verse” as well, employing fewer literary devices than it used to. I mentioned description as well — many older books are filled with minute descriptions of places and people, whereas today, if the description doesn’t advance the plot line or have some telling necessary detail, people get impatient with it. I think many modern readers want their books served like their fast food — something quick and simple that fills the need of the moment. That is not a bad thing in itself: I enjoy fast food as well as home-cooked multi-course dinners just as I enjoy both the quick and simple fiction as well as the old classics. But one is certainly a lot richer than the other.

Interestingly, I did a quick search on “Symbolism in literature” and found articles at polar opposites: “The Silliness of looking for symbolism in literature” by John T. Reed, which, as you can tell by the titles, espouses that there is no, or at least very little purposeful symbolism (I do disagree with his harsh words against English teachers), and “Symbolism in Literature” by Karen Bernado, which seems to be saying in one part that it doesn’t really matter if the author intended symbolism or not; it is all open to interpretation, and if something symbolizes something to you, that’s great. Personally, my views would be somewhere between those two. I do think there are times, especially these days, when an author writes a story just to write a story with no symbolism intended. But I do think a degree of symbolism can greatly enhance what the author is trying to convey. On the other hand, if I were to write a book, I think any symbolism I used would be specific and purposeful: I would not want Bernado’s approach that what I had written was open to interpretation and anyone could see any symbolism they chose.

One good example of symbolism I’ve seen was in A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith. I said in my review of it:

The symbolism of the tree in the title and in the story is clear: the tree that “liked poor people,” that grew in “sour earth” where it wasn’t given much inducement to grow, that continued to grow even after it was cut down, is parallel to Francie’s life.

Another excellent example is The Chronicles of Narnia. You can enjoy the story without understanding what it symbolizes, but when you realize the symbolism in it, you’re blown away by the depth and beauty in it.

This discussion ties in somewhat with another question I submitted and hope we get to some time, which is whether our experiences with literature in school enhanced our love of it or interfered with it. I have had both types of English teachers. Some were very clinical and academic, losing the excitement of the story in examining its parts, and others used the academic study of literature to enhance the enjoyment and learning from it.

Yes, I finally finished it! All 1,400+ pages!

I’ve read a couple of different abridged versions of Les Miserables by Victor Hugo and made it my goal to read the unabridged version.

A brief synopsis for those who might be unfamiliar with the story: Les Miserables at its most basic is the story of Jean Valjean. He lived with his sister and her family in extreme poverty in France after the French Revolution. In one act of desperation he broke a window and stole a loaf of bread. His sentence was lengthened by multiple escape attempts until he was finally released 19 years later. His hardness and bitterness increased by the response he got when he was required to show his papers at each new town he visited, resulting in lower pay and refusal of the townspeople to rent him a room or serve him a meal because he was an ex-convict. An act of grace by a bishop resulted eventually in transforming him.

When he traveled into a new town, his help in saving someone’s life and the confusion and excitement around the event resulted in the town officials’ forgetting to ask him for his papers. He was hired on in a factory and devised a way to improve the factory’s production, leading to his promotion, eventually to the head of the factory, and further still to his being elected the mayor. He was known as a quiet but kind and and benevolent man, using much of his wealth to aid those in need.

Thus it would seem his life was set on a new course of usefulness and happiness, except…except…

Except for Javert, a former prison guard who became the new police inspector in Valjean’s town, who thinks he recognizes the mayor as an ex-convict who has broken his parole.

Intersecting Valjean’s story is that of Fantine, a young, naive girl who gave herself to a man who only wanted to use her as a diversion one summer, leaving her with child, Cosette. In that day a single woman with a child was a scandal, so Fantine found an innkeeper and his wife whom she paid to keep her child while she went to another town to look for work. She ended up in Valjean’s factory, where she was fired after it was discovered that she had a child. In the meantime, the innkeeper, Thenardier, made up stories about Cosette needing more clothes, needing medicine, becoming very ill, all in an effort to extort money from Fantine. Fantine, worried and desperate, sold her teeth, her hair, and eventually her body (which is handled discreetly, without explicitness, in the book and was viewed by Hugo as a form of slavery). She became gravely ill from neglect of her own care, and an altercation in the street brought her to the attention of Valjean. When he heard her story, he felt responsible for her situation since she was dismissed from his factory, and he paid her her care and promised to take care of her daughter. The Thenardiers resented Valjean’s rescue of Cosette and the subsequent loss of income.

The rest of the book details the pursuit of Valjean by Javert, and, at times, Thenardier, his care of Cosette, her growth into a young woman, her falling in love with Marius, much to the dismay of Valjean, who has never loved anyone else and is afraid of losing Cossette.

That is the basic plot, but there are so many more layers, subplots, and characters in Les Miserables. There are discussions of poverty, politics, French history. One of the major themes is the righteousness of the law, as represented by Javert, versus the righteousness of grace, represented by Valjean. While not a Christian book in itself (it portrays the innate goodness of man, whereas Scripture portrays the innate sinfulness of man, and it includes some strange philosophies, and its politics are much more socialistic than I am comfortable with), it does portray Christian themes of redemption, forgiveness, sacrifice, and selflessness, and Valjean does depend on God for salvation and strength.

I have mentioned here before that I had read a couple of different abridged versions and had wanted to read this unbridged version for a long time. Though normally I am a book purist, wanting a book to remain as untouched as possible, I can see now why this book is abridged. The sheer 1,463 page length of the book is not so much the problem as the frequent asides. It is rather like rush hour traffic in some places — very slow going interspersed by brief interludes of acceleration. It’s like a mini-series interrupted at the climactic moments by a documentary. Valjean’s escape with Cosette to a convent leads to a discussion of the history of convents in general, this convent in particular, whether convents are right or wrong. An incident at the end of the battle of Waterloo which has repercussions for two characters later in the book is preceded by a 57-page description and discussion of Waterloo. A student revolt at the barricades leads to a discussion of the differences between an insurrection and a riot and which, in the author’s opinion, is right and wrong. Valjean’s escape from the barricades with a wounded Marius through the sewers involves a detailed description of the history of sewers and the author’s suggestions for how they could be made better (and I never knew there were so many different synonyms for sewage). Hugo must have been an intensely curious man as well as a thinker and a philosopher, but the asides do get tiresome. Though at times I found myself interested in them in spite of myself, particularly the battle of Waterloo section, a few times I was tempted to skip through them, reminding myself that I wanted to read the unabridged version, not skim through it.

And I am glad that I read it. It did give me a fuller understanding of the story, and I particularly enjoyed learning more of Fantine’s early story than other versions included and more of Javert’s mental struggle that led to his actions at the end of his life.

There are moments of sheer beauty in the book, moments of identification with the very human struggle, such as Valjean’s dilemma when he learns another man has been arrested under his name. One of the most poignant moments iss when he returns home after Cossette’s wedding and pulls out the little clothes he had bought for her when he first rescued her, and weeps into them. One of my favorite sections is when Thenardier seeks to implicate Valjean to Marius, unwittingly clearing his name instead.

And for all of Hugo’s wordiness, there are moments of clever, succinct, descriptive phrasing: “For dowry, she had gold and pearls; but the gold was on her head and the pearls were in her mouth.” “A torn conscience leads to an unraveled life.” “There is a way of falling into error while on the road of truth. He had a sort of willful implicit faith that swallowed everything whole.” “Skepticism, that dry rot of the intellect.” “He suffered the strange pangs of a conscience suddenly operated on for a cataract’.” “This man…was…still bleeding from the lacerations of his destiny.”

Just a word about the musical based on the novel: it was through the musical that I first discovered this story. I was in the library video section one day, saw a video of the tenth anniversary production of the musical, and decided I’d check it out just to see what it was all about, having heard the title for years but knowing little of the story. I was absolutely enthralled. The music is gorgeous and the story so touching. But for the information of those whose standards are as conservative as mine or more so, there is a smattering of four-letter words, and the section dealing with Fantine’s prostitution is much more explicit than the book is. Unfortunately, though I’d love to see a stage production, I could not in good conscience because of that section. As it is we skip the “Lovely Ladies” song on the video and CD. I was delighted to discover, though, that the musical does go back to the original for many things, using even some exact lines from the book. It’s fairly faithful to the book except for the section mentioned, and the fact that Eponine and Marius’s relationship is not as it was in the book, and the scene of Valjean praying over Marius before the battle of the barricade and regarding him as a son was not on the book: at that point, even after rescuing Marius, Valjean hates him for the threat he is to taking Cosette away and is only caring for him for her happiness, though he does come to love him as a son much later. Plus Valjean doesn’t fight Javert after Fantine’s death before rescuing Cosette: he is arrested and escapes again later.

I’ll leave you with a couple of scenes from the musical. The first is the confrontation between Valjean and J avert after Fantine dies.

The second takes place after Valjean learns another man has been arrested in his name, and he struggles within himself as to what to do about it. The number 24601, which is mentioned in both songs, was Valjean’s number in prison.

(This review is linked to Semicolon’s Saturday Review of Books, Callapidder Day’s Spring Reading Thing 2009 Book Reviews, and 5 Minutes For Books Classic Bookclub Discussion of Les Miserables.)

The weekly Booking Through Thursday question for today is:

Suggested by Barbara:

I saw that National Library week is coming up in April [12-18], and that led to some questions. How often do you use your public library and how do you use it? Has the coffeehouse/bookstore replaced the library? Did you go to the library as a child? Do you have any particular memories of the library? Do you like sleek, modern, active libraries or the older, darker, quiet, cozy libraries?

Thanks for using my question!

I remember the thrill of getting my very own library card in elementary school. I don’t remember going to the library other than through school. When my children were small I wanted them to have that “thrill,” too. We went to the library from the days they were toddlers, took out heaps of books that they then wanted me to read to them the rest of the day. I loved it. They got library cards when they were old enough to clearly print their names. We went to some of the special programs (meeting Mr. McFeely at one. Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood was their main childhood program, so that was fun). We participated in every summer reading program.

They loved to be read to when they were younger, and my oldest loved to read for himself, but the younger two left off reading for pleasure. That makes me so sad — I think they’d enjoy it if they tried it again, but they both say they’re not a “reading kind of guy.” 😦 But, consequently, somewhere along the way we gradually stopped going to the library.

I worked in the university library while in college. I enjoyed studying there, particularly since I had access to a couple of quiet spots away from the crowd, but it was too busy then to wander around looking at books for pleasure. I do remember when I was being trained for the reference room that I was pretty scared of the responsibility of helping students find resources they needed (in the day before the Internet), but I also discovered the library had a wealth of resources that were probably unknown to most people. In my senior year they began building the new library, so it’s not recognizable to me any more.

I don’t go to the library much these days unless I am looking for a classic or trying out a new author. I read mostly Christian fiction, and most libraries aren’t current in that genre except for the best sellers, like the Left Behind and Mitford series.

There is something cozy about the older, darker libraries. If I were going to the library to sit down and read, I would prefer the old-fashioned kind. The sleek modern ones were a little intimidating to me at first — they just seemed so busy and bright and scattered. But I have gotten more used to them now and I love the efficiency of them. They still don’t seem very inviting to me, though. They seemed designed more to get your business done and get out.

My oldest likes to go to the coffeehouse bookstores. To him that’s a pleasant evening out. I haven’t really gone to them to sit down and read — I guess I am still not used to being able to take coffee over to a chair and pick out a book to read there. I’d be expecting someone to tell me food and drink aren’t allowed where they could be spilled on the merchandise (do they have a “you spill, you buy” policy, I wonder?), and I keep expecting someone to tap me on the shoulder and tell me if I am going to read the book, I need to go ahead and buy it. Usually when I go I know what I want, and I get it and leave. But if I wanted to check a book or author I was unsure of, I’d welcome the opportunity to sit down and read a little more extensively before deciding to buy the book. In that case I probably would check the library first.

I’ve just realized that I’ve lost that pleasurable strolling through aisles of books and discovering treasures. I remember finding books I really enjoyed just by looking around within a certain category. I should probably try that again — after I get my to-be-read stack whittled down.

There is another special memory the library holds for me: that’s where I met my husband. ♥

The weekly Booking Through Thursday question for today is:

Suggested by Janet:

The opposite of last week’s question: “What’s the best ‘worst’ book you’ve ever read — the one you like despite some negative reviews or features?”

I’ve been pondering this question for the last hour or so while going about my morning routine. I can’t think of anything recent, though there might be something not coming to mind. I don’t really choose books based on what the general public or professional reviews say, but I do like to read reviews and recommendations of people I know to some degree.

In that vein, I’ve been surprised to see through various book challenges and memes that a lot of people don’t like Dickens. I love Dickens. His were some of the first classics I read as an adult. I recently saw David Copperfield describes as somewhat vapidly standing still while all the action happened around him. I was shocked. To me David Copperfield is all about character development. Here is a child starting out with several strikes against him — his father dies before he is born, his mother marries the cold, hard, authoritarian Mr. Murdstone who eventually sends David away, he faces cruelty at boarding school and a brief stint in factory work, his mother dies — he could have turned into a criminal, a “victim,” or a hard and bitter man, yet he becomes a man of character and decency. In fact, he is one of the few normal people in the book amidst the almost caricatural Micawber, Uriah Heep, and Aunt Betsey Trotwood.

I’ve also been surprised to discover that a lot of Christian women don’t like Janette Oke, and the term “prairie romances,” which I think must be aimed at her work since her first series (Love Comes Softly) and many of her other books took place on the prairie, used derogatorily. (I don’t know why we can say a certain genre just doesn’t appeal to us without having to be negative about it). Though I had read Not My Will by Francena Arnold and a couple of Eugenia Price books beforehand, my love of Christian fiction began with Mrs. Oke. Her books weren’t just simple stories to me, or even “romances” — there were illustrations of spiritual truth fleshed out in both the crises and the everyday lives of her characters. To me that’s what the best of Christian fiction does.

Some time I’d love to revisit both Dickens and some of Janette Oke’s earlier works to see if they still speak to me as they did years ago. I think they would: I think that’s what defines a classic.

If you like, you can visit the Booking Through Thursday site to see what others thought about this question.

(Updated to add: since I mentioned Janette Oke, I thought some might be interested in reading about author Kim Vogel Sawyer meeting Janette at the Christian Book Expo here.)

The weekly Booking Through Thursday question for today is:

Suggested by Janet:

How about, “What’s the worst ‘best’ book you’ve ever read — the one everyone says is so great, but you can’t figure out why?”

The Man in the Iron Mask by Alexandre Dumas was a big disappointment to me. I don’t know how much of the disappointment was due to the ending being totally unlike any of the film versions I’ve seen. It was totally depressing. I wasn’t crazy about The Three Musketeers by the same author, either, and I usually like swashbuckling “defender of the good and right” stories. I did enjoy Dumas’ The Count of Monte Cristo, though.

I was also surprised not to really like Pride and Prejudice and Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen as much as I thought I would, though the DVD of the latter is one of my all time favorite films. I did really enjoy Persuasion, Northanger Abbey and Mansfield Park. I’d seen film versions of most of them before reading the books, so I don’t think that was a major cause of not liking the first two.

I would be willing to give all of these books another read, though, some day — maybe there was just something else going on at the time of my first reading that influenced my impressions.