Every Ocean Has a Shore, a novel by Jamie Langston Turner, opens with a few people in a small diner in Chicago. Suddenly a young man with a gun comes in, locks the door, and starts barking orders.
Tragedy is averted, but everyone is shaken. The three adults in the main dining room don’t know it yet, but they are bonded together even after they go their separate ways.
The only customers in the diner at the time were an older woman, Alice, and a young boy. Alice had been estranged from her daughter for years before her daughter died. Alice just found out that her daughter left behind a young son, Ian, who had been cared or by his father. But now the father is dying, and someone finds Alice’s contact information. Alice flew from South Carolina to Chicago to pick up five-year-old Ian, who doesn’t speak. They’ve just stopped at the diner for lunch when the incident occurred.
Gary is the owner of the diner. He was always a quiet man, but became quieter still after his wife died. He’s intelligent, but it takes him a while to think through things. His loneliness and the crime in the city cause him to consider moving, but he doesn’t know where or what he would do with himself. He has a sister in Vermont who needs help fixing up her home. Maybe he’ll start there.
Fawna is the waitress, a college dropout with a birthmark on her cheek in the shape of Borneo and a penchant for saying weird things. She rents a room from a crotchety old woman named Mrs. Welborn and helps her out. Her parents died, leaving her with money to live on. She’s drifted around for the past eight or nine years, but thinks she might like to settle down somewhere. The problem is, she doesn’t know where to go or what she wants to do.
The point of view switches between these three as they go on with their lives but keep in touch. We learn some of their background and issues. Fawna discovers C. S. Lewis and begins to wonder if, as Lewis suggests, someone has been orchestrating all the events of their lives.
Fans of Jamie Langston Turner will welcome this, her first new book in nine years. A few characters from her earlier books make an appearance, particularly Eldeen, the larger-than-life older woman from Jamie’s first book, Suncatchers. But this is a stand-alone novel that can be enjoyed even if you haven’t read the previous books.
Jamie’s books are character-driven, not plot-driven. This isn’t an edge-of-your-seat kind of story. In fact, the story seems pretty slow in places. But as we learn more about each character and see how everything is woven together, we find great depth. I’ve seen many people who don’t normally like Christian fiction say that they like Jamie’s books.
I think I first came across Jackie Hill Perry on Twitter. I wasn’t familiar with her work, but somehow I saw things that she had tweeted. I liked what she said, so I followed her. Unfortunately, she’s not on Twitter any more.
Jackie grew up with a single mother and a father who breezed in and out of her life. Her father once told her that he loved her, but it wouldn’t bother him if she never wanted to see him again. His absence and lack of love plus Jackie’s being sexually abused by a boy at a young age were major factors in Jackie’s gender confusion, which then led to her becoming a lesbian.
Jackie had attended church and knew that Christians believed homosexuality was wrong. She fully believed she was going to hell. But she didn’t care.
Yet she felt God’s pursuit of her. She felt Him calling her, “haunting” her.
The only thing that made sense was that someone had obviously been talking to God about me and it was the reason why God wouldn’t leave me alone. Obviously, whatever was being asked of Him, regarding me, was making my little sinful world spin. It was dizzying to live on now-a-days. Trying to stand up straight (or should I say, queer), made everything I loved, mainly myself and my girlfriend, blurry. Nothing was clear except God’s loud voice saying, “Come.” (p. 50, Kindle version).
Eventually, Jackie did come. Yet life was not then miraculously easy. She wasn’t just saved from homosexuality. She was saved from sin, any and all sin. And like every other new believer, she learned that discipleship consists of taking up one’s cross daily and following Jesus, just as He said it would.
In the last section of her book, Jackie deals with Biblical truths like our identity in Christ and some common misconceptions, especially of what she calls the “heterosexual gospel.” In witnessing to homosexuals, well-meaning Christians sometimes promise or emphasize things which the Bible does not.
A few quotes that stood out to me:
Why hadn’t they ever mentioned the place happiness had within righteousness, or how the taking up of the cross would be a practice of obtaining delight? Delight in all that God is? Even their Savior had this kind of joy in mind as He endured His cross. So why hadn’t they set their focus on the same? In their defense, they were not to blame for my unbelief. I just wonder if they would’ve told me about the beauty of God just as much, if not more, than they told me about the horridness of hell, if I would’ve burned my idols at a faster pace (p. 64).
Because a good God made the woman, then being a woman was a good thing (p. 87).
Our sexuality is not our soul, marriage is not heaven, and singleness is not hell (p. 139).
To tell you about what God has done for my soul is to invite you into my worship (p. 140).
Do you know why we have a hard time believing that a gay girl can become a completely different creature? Because, we have a hard time believing God. The Pharisees saw the man born blind, heard his testimony, heard about his past and how it was completely different from the present one, and refused to believe the miracle because of Who the miracle pointed to. They were skeptical of the miracle because they didn’t have a real faith in the God who’d done it. The miracle was less about the blind man and more about a good God. It showed Him off. His power. His ability to do what He wants. How He wants, when He wants, and to whomever He chooses (p. 107).
I especially loved this, in telling about the man who had been born blind whom Jesus healed by combing His spit with dirt, rubbing the mixture on the man’s eyes, then telling hm to go wash in the pool of Siloam: “Using his palms to brush the stubborn sections away from his eyelids, light startled him. As more mud fell, more sight came. Until at once, he could see” (p. 106).
I looked at Goodreads yesterday to see what some of the reviews said. Not surprisingly, I saw review after review with one star scathingly critical of Jackie’s story. I thought, how sad it is that her book is rated so low just because people disagree with her. But then I scrolled up and saw that only three percent of the reviews were one star. 83% were four and five stars. Yet of the ten reviews Goodreads showed on the first page, seven were one-star.
I would love to say to those who discount Jackie’s story (one review accused her and her husband of pretending to be heterosexual)—if, according to the world, life is all supposed to be about choice these days, why would anyone argue with Jackie’s choices? If everyone’s supposed to have their own truth (which I disagree with, and Jackie would, too), why would you discount the truth of her experience? Why is it that if someone has lived a heterosexual lifestyle but then thinks they might be gay, that determination is supposed to be the real, lifelong one and there’s no turning back? Why can one supposedly only turn one way, and not the other?
One can, of course. But Satan wants to blind and deceive people.
I enjoyed Jackie’s story of God’s grace. I have not heard or read her poetry, but she has a poet’s heart and her expressiveness shines through here. Her knowledge of Biblical truth is solid.
I’d recommend her books to anyone, gay or straight, Christian or not. I think it would be particularly eye-opening to Christians who can sometimes come across as glib in their witness or opinions.
I listened to the audiobook, read by Jackie. At the moment, it’s free to those with an Audible subscription. Then I bought the Kindle version so I could keep this book on hand.
If people think about humility at all these days, they usually envision self-deprecation, playing down one’s attributes, talents, or accomplishments, or, at the very least, not bragging.
In Humble Roots: How Humility Grounds and Nourishes Your Soul, Hannah Anderson explores humility from a Biblical angle. Instead of viewing humility as a club or prod when we’re feeling too proud, humility frees us and leads us to rest.
I defined humility as a correct sense of self, as understanding where you come from and where you belong in this world (p. 64, Kindle version).
Theologically speaking, humility is a proper understanding of who God is and who we are as a result (p. 102).
I would describe it as a creaturely dependence. We’re “made in His image, but we are made nonetheless (p. 11)—made originally from dirt, to which our bodies return. As Paul reminds Timothy, “we brought nothing into the world, and we cannot take anything out of the world” (1 Timothy 6:7). Everything we are and everything we have comes from God.
The problem is our obsession with ourselves. With our need to fix things, our need to make ourselves better, our need to be approved by God and others, our need to “count for something.”
But this is also why Jesus calls us to come to Him. By coming to Jesus, we remember who we are and who we are not. By coming to Him, we come face to face with God and with ourselves. “It is only in our encounter with a personal God,” writes philosopher Dietrich von Hildebrand, “that we become fully aware of our condition as creatures, and fling from us the last particle of self-glory” (p. 55).
If I can’t handle little things, what can I handle? Failure at small things reminds us of how helpless we are in this great, wide world. When little things spiral out of control, they remind us that even they were never within our control in the first place (p. 26).
Humility, instead of being a negative concept, frees us:
to be the people God created us to be (p. 11).
from the cycle of stress, performance, and competition (p. 12).
from our burdens . . . by calling us to rely less on ourselves and more on Him (p. 32).
to redirect our energies toward God and those whom He has given us to love (p. 3).
from the condemnation of others, . . . from self-condemnation and unnecessary guilt (p. 108).
to hear God’s call and leads you to a place of both rest and flourishing (p. 110).
from the oppression of our emotions, when we finally learn that “God is greater than our heart (p. 114).
from the responsibility of feeling like you have to “do it all.” You are free to do only what you have been made to do (p. 163)
. . . and so much more.
Hannah follows Jesus’ admonition to consider birds and flowers by grounding each chapter in something from the garden or nature. For instance, the chapter “Vine-Ripened” begins with all the work that goes into growing garden tomatoes, then being fooled every year into thinking the ones gassed for redness in stores will be the same. That leads into a discussion of wisdom being rooted not in acquiring facts, but in submitting to the source of wisdom–the fear of the Lord. Then an 1800 court case over whether tomatoes are vegetables or fruit is tied in, along with our relentless desire to be “right.” “Humility simply leaves room that my understanding of a situation could be wrong” (p. 124). We may not have all the facts or may be influenced by culture. Because we’re limited, “my faith cannot rest on my own knowledge . . . or ability to understand . . . humility leaves room for grace” (p. 124). How unlike most social media discussions, where everyone is right in their own eyes. Hannah then refers to an Isaac Watts book which discusses a “dogmatical spirit.” Our wisdom and safety come not from our being right, but from Jesus being right. Then the chapter goes back to the process of creating store-bought tomatoes, compares that with our search for wisdom, and extols the wisdom of waiting: “Humility teaches us to let knowledge ripen on the vine” (p. 129). The chapter is much more beautifully woven together than my cobbled summation here.
Hannah points us to Jesus, “who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men.And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross (Philippians 2:6-8) and who invites us to “Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls” (Matthew 11:20).
Besides benefiting from the truths Hannah shares, I marvel at the way she is able to weave together facts from nature, literature, Scripture, and personal example seamlessly into each chapter. I don’t know how she accomplishes this without time to just sit and think, but as a busy pastor’s wife and mom, I’m sure such time is at a premium. I first read one of her books during Advent and have been working my way through her others. She has quickly become one of my favorite authors.
Even though I just finished this book, reading one chapter a week, I am thinking about going through it again. I need to soak in its truths more.
In A Place to Hang the Moon by Kate Albus, William, 12, Edmund, 11, and Anna, 9, live in 1940 England. Their parents died when William was 5. “The grandmother” had charge of them since, but she sent them off to boarding school and was cold and aloof when they were home.
Now the grandmother has died as well. The family solicitor, Mr. Engersoll, explains that the children have been left a lot of money, but no one has been named as their guardian. Apparently there is no one to ask. The children plead to stay with the family’s housekeeper, Mrs. Collins, but she’s too old to take them in.
Mr. Engersoll suggests that the children join evacuees being sent to the country. Perhaps the foster parents they find might take them in permanently. The children are advised not to tell anyone that they are alone in the world or that their family has money, so they don’t get taken advantage of.
The children agree with what Mrs. Collins calls “the preposterous plan,” as there seems to be no other option.
The children are billeted together first with one family, then another. I don’t want to spoil the story by telling what went on in those places, but neither is suitable.
The children spend many afternoons in the town library. Books have always been their friends, and the warmth and quietness of the library provide a refuge. The kind interest of the librarian, Mrs. Muller, makes the place even more welcome.
It’s not long, however, before they discern Mrs. Muller is something of an outcast. She’s married to a German man who has disappeared.
The children wish they could stay with Mrs. Muller, despite her husband’s possible Nazi leanings.
This story starts out like a classic fairy tale, with children alone in the world having to overcome various difficulties. I had thought it was a young adult book, but Amazon recommends it for grades 4-7.
I don’t often read secular books for this age group, but the Story Warren and Hope both spoke well of this story, piquing my interest. I agree with C. S. Lewis that a good children’s book can be enjoyed by adults as well. When the title came up temporarily free from Audible. I gave it a try.
I’m so glad I did. I loved this book. The story is well-told and the characters are beautifully drawn. Descriptions of both warm and cozy and difficult scenes make you feel you are experiencing them along with the children. References to beloved classic children’s books are scattered throughout. Polly Lee’s British accent enhanced the audiobook. I didn’t want the book to end.
Some of my favorite quotes:
The first words of a new book are so delicious—like the first taste of a cookie fresh from the oven and not yet properly cooled.
The librarian took this all in, standing by the fire and observing the children for a while, letting the silence be. Somehow, it didn’t feel awkward, the way silences often do. Perhaps librarians are more used to quiet than most.
William, Edmund, and Anna knew, somewhere deep in the place where we know things that we cannot say aloud, that they had never lived in the sort of home one reads about in stories – one of warmth and affection and certainty in the knowledge that someone believes you hung the moon.
Edmund took in the boy’s mended jacket, the eyes underlined in shadows, the skin above his upper lip chapped raw from a dripping nose gone unattended, and saw the sort of hunger whose endlessness digs a pit in a person. Being eleven, Edmund wouldn’t have put it quite in those words, but he recognized it nonetheless.
While she wasn’t sure of the precise definition of the word “bibliophile,” Anna was certain it meant something that she wanted to be.
The stealing of sweets, after all, is an act committed only by those with unspeakably black souls.
The smell of the cookies filled the children with a warmth that can only come from the magnificent alchemy of butter and sugar.
Truth be told, Anna was rather giving away the ending, but sometimes one cannot help oneself.
Anna thought of offering up a hearty platter of I told you so, but she didn’t. Why foul perfection with such a sharp thing as bitterness?
This is a lovely book. Not fluffy bunny and serene landscape lovely, but a wonderful tale beautifully told.
The Four Graces are daughters of the vicar of Chevis Green, England, during WWII. This book is sometimes listed as the fourth Barbara Buncle book, but Barbara only appears in one scene at the beginning at a wedding. The setting and some of the characters from the previous book carry on, however.
The vicar has been a widower for some time, and his grown daughters all help around the house and village–or at least they did, until one went into the service during WWII.
Liz works on the neighboring farm of Archie Chevis-Cobb, the local squire. She’s always up for adventure and is unconventional and outspoken.
Sal takes care of most of the home chores. She was sickly as a child and therefore did not attend school. She has a quiet, steady disposition and helps her father smooth the ruffled feathers of his congregants.
Addie enlisted in the WAAF and lives in London but pops in and out.
Tilly is quiet and shy and plays the organ.
Amid the war shortages and rationing, the Graces live a quiet, pleasant life. But then William Single, a scholar interested in Rome, comes to stay with them and study what he thinks is an old buried Roman settlement nearby. William is a large but gentle, bumbling man and fits into the household nicely.
A young officer, a friend of Addie’s comes to visit–too often for Tilly’s tastes. She’s afraid he has designs on one of her sisters.
But the household is totally disrupted by the arrival of Aunt Rona, the girls’ late mother’s sister. Bombing shattered all her windows of her London house, so she came to stay with the Graces. But she takes over and tries to manage everything and everyone. And then the girls fear Aunt Rona might be trying to worm her way into their father’s affections.
This book reminded me a bit of Little Women, if it had been set during WWII. The girls here are older, though, all in their twenties.
Some of the quotes I loved:
Life was like that, thought Liz. You drifted on for years and years—then, suddenly, everything happened at once and all the things that had seemed so stable dissolved and disintegrated before your eyes…and life was new.
I have noticed that nowadays when people speak of being broad-minded they really mean muddleheaded, or lacking in principles—or possibly lacking the strength to stand up for any principles they may have.
“Books are people,″ smiled Miss Marks. ″In every book worth reading, the author is there to meet you, to establish contact with you. He takes you into his confidence and reveals his thoughts to you.
She talked less than some of the others and perhaps thought more.
I listened to the audiobook nicely read by Karen Cass.
This was a secular book, so I would not agree with every little thing–like brief mentions of astrology and a universal religion. But otherwise, this is a sweet English village story that I enjoyed very much.
In fact, I am a little disappointed to leave this setting and these characters behind. I’d love for there to have been a sequel or at least a mention of the sisters in other books like Stevenson does with some of her characters. But we’ll just have to imagine the Graces continuing in in the ups and downs and pleasures and sorrows of life.
Usually when I talk about books or films here, I only share a part of the plot, some quotes, and my thoughts about them. I don’t want to give away the end or any surprises.
But “Babette’s Feast” is a short story. This post would only be a paragraph or two if I just shared a bit about it. Plus, I’d love to explore what it means and hear your thoughts as well.
“Babette’s Feast” is part of a collection published as Anecdotes of Destiny in 1958 by Isak Dinesen (pen name of Danish Author Karen Blixen). In 1987, it was made into an award-winning Danish film.
The story opens with two elderly sisters in Norway in the 1800s. Their late father was a pastor who created his own strict sect. “Its members renounced the pleasures of this world, for the earth and all that it held to them was but a kind of illusion, and the true reality was the New Jerusalem toward which they were longing.”
The women were beauitful and admired in their youth. Many young men noticed them, but those who approached their father for permission to court them were rebuffed. The girls were his right and left hand—would these young men tear them from him?
However, both young women had a chance at love. Lorens Löwenhielm, a rakish Calvary officer, was sent by his father to visit his aunt in the country and meditate on his ways. Lorens sees Martine in the marketplace. He visits her home and admires her all the more. But her purity seems to show up his own smallness. He eventually leaves to go back to his garrison and pour himself into his career. He marries a lady-in-waiting to the Queen.
An acclaimed singer, Achille Papin of Paris, visits the area on vacation. Bored one morning, he wanders into church and is captivated by the voice of Philippa. He offers to give her singing lessons, telling her father she will “sing . . . to the glory of God.” But inwardly, he thinks she could be a famous prima donna and sing with him.
He shares his dreams with Philippa. In one lesson, they sing a love song together and he kisses her.
Philppa tells her father she does not want to take singing lessons any more.
The young women ministered beside their father for years until he passed away. They continued charitable works in the community, helping the poor and needy, holding meetings in their home.
But the little congregation had thinned out and gotten old and contrary. Members focused on old wrongs with each other.
Now elderly, the women are startled when a pale woman shows up on their doorstep and faints. When she awakes, she gives them a letter. She was a French refugee fleeing from civil war in Paris. Achille Papin sent the sisters the letter asking them to take the women, Babette, in. It was proposed that she work as a cook and maid, but the sisters cannot afford to hire her. Babette does not want pay.
Babette recovers from her troubles and becomes a real asset to the sisters and the community. The sisters eat very plainly and show Babette how everything must be cooked. She’s savvy with merchants and saves the sisters money. Her efforts at home free them to minister even more to the community.
As the hundredth birthday of the sisters’ father approaches, they want to prepare a special dinner for the congregation. They not only want to honor their father’s memory, but they hope to inspire the congregation back to the ideals he taught.
Meanwhile, a friend of Babette’s in France had purchased a lottery ticket for her and renewed it every year. Suddenly, Babette receives news that she has won 10,000 francs.
The sisters rejoice in Babette’s good fortune but grieve that they will lose her. They are sure that with independent means, she will no longer need their hospitality.
But Babette wants to use her money to provide the feast for their father’s hundredth birthday dinner. The sisters reluctantly agree.
Babette wants to make an authentic French meal and orders supplies. The sisters are alarmed at the strange items that arrive, including a massive live turtle and several bottles of wine. The sisters face a conundrum. How can they allow these rich and foreign foods to be given to the congregation? But what can they do? They don’t feel they can offend Babette by rejecting her offer.
They go to the congregation and confess what has happened. The members understand and promise not to comment on the food, good or bad.
Meanwhile, officer Löwenhielm’s aunt wants to be included in the feast to honor the late pastor. And her nephew, Lorens, is in town: could he accompany her?
By now, Lorens has achieved all the honors he could want. But he sees it all as vanity. He remembers enough of what he heard back in the little congregation to convict him that there is more to life, and he has been foolish.
Finally the big feast arrives. Lorens is well-traveled and is the only one to recognize the superb quality of the wine and food. In fact, they remind him of the time he ate at a restaurant of one of the most famous and acclaimed chefs in Paris.
The sisters and congregants eat silently and tentatively at first. But soon the meal and the wine and the fellowship warms their hearts. They renew their love for each other and put away old wrongs.
When everyone leaves, the sisters thank Babette for the meal. They ask when she will be leaving them.
She won’t be leaving, she says. She has spent all her 10,000 francs on the meal. She had been the famous chef Lorens spoke of and gave the sisters and congregation the best meal she could produce.
_______
On the surface, this story could seem like a slam at the Puritanical practices of the sisters and an encouragement to enjoy life’s good things.
But I think the story goes deeper than that.
I don’t think it’s meant to be a slam, per se, but perhaps a different way of looking at things. The sisters’ religion looked on love and marriage as illusions. They were to concentrate on the life to come, not this one. But God gave us richly all things to enjoy, after all (1 Timothy 6:17). God’s Word and gifts do not just affect us on a spiritual plane. Some of His good gifts are physical and tactile. He wants us even to eat and drink as unto Him (1 Corinthians 10:31).
When the officer first visits the meeting at the sisters home, their father speaks of Psalm 85:10: “Mercy and truth are met together; righteousness and peace have kissed each other.” The translation in the book says “bliss” rather than “peace.” When the officer comes back to the feast so many years later, not a general, he stands up to speak and shares this same verse and talks about grace. So perhaps the author is bringing together the idea that righteous and bliss are not antithetical.
One facet of the tale is the ministry of food. Psalm 104:14-15 says God causes “the grass to grow for the livestock and plants for man to cultivate, that he may bring forth food from the earth and wine to gladden the heart of man, oil to make his face shine and bread to strengthen man’s heart.” Craig Claiborne said, ” Cooking is at once child’s play and adult joy. And cooking done with care is an act of love.”
One article talked about the women caring for each other in their own way. The sisters provided a home, even though their means were meager. Babette made meals to their preferences, even though it must have galled her to do so, until the feast. They all grew to care for and appreciate each other.
Another aspect is to not judge a book by its cover. Though austere, the sisters were genuine and kind. They were wary of Babette’s foreignness at first, but came to see her heart.
Dione Lucas said, “The preparation of good food is merely another expression of art, one of the joys of civilized living.” And this idea of giving through one’s art is mentioned in the story of Babette. She tells the sisters that the people she cooked for in France “had been brought up and trained, with greater expense than you, my little ladies, could ever imagine or believe, to understand what a great artist I am. I could make them happy. When I did my very best I could make them perfectly happy.” Later she quotes Monsieur Papin, “Through all the world there goes one long cry from the heart of the artist: Give me leave to do my utmost!”
When the sisters lament that Babette will be poor all her life, now that she has spent her fortune, she replies, “Poor? No, I shall never be poor. I told you that I am a great artist. A great artist, Mesdames, is never poor. We have something, Mesdames, of which other people know nothing.”
Here’s the trailer of the film. It’s in Danish with English subtitles.
This article discusses the film and story and the differences between the two.
Have you read or watched “Babette’s Feast”? What did you think of it?
The Two Mrs. Abbottsis the third Barbara Buncle book by D. E. Stevenson. By this time, Barbara Buncle is the first Mrs. Abbott, having married her publisher, Arthur.
In the previous book, Miss Buncle Married, Arthur’s nephew, Sam, worked with Arthur and came to stay with the Abbotts frequently. A neighbor of the Abbotts, a young woman called Jerry, had her own business boarding horses and teaching riding lessons. Over the course of the last book, Sam and Jerry fell in love despite some comical obstacles, and finally married. So Jerry is the second Mrs. Abbott.
In The Two Mrs. Abbotts, WWII has arrived. Sam is away fighting throughout the book, but we have one scene with him. Arthur is only seen at the beginning of the book, unfortunately.
Soldiers camp in huts near Jerry’s house, so Jerry and her longtime cook, maid, and friend, Markie, pull their living quarters to a smaller section of the house and give the soldiers access to their kitchen. All through the day they find soldiers making food, writing home, washing clothes, etc. Markie, a much older woman, becomes a mother figure to the men, helping them compose letters and listening to them talk.
Early in the book, Barbara agrees to host a woman from the Red Cross who has traveled to speak to local women about how they can help. The Red Cross woman turns out to be Susan, Barbara’s closest friend from the first book, and one of the few who was not offended by Barbara’s books about their village.
Barbara does not do much writing in this volume, her time being taken up with her two precocious children and helping in the community.
However, one of her husband’s firms best-selling authors comes to town to speak at a festival. Janetta Walters. Arthur doesn’t like her books much, but they’re popular. There’s nothing wrong with them–they’re just fluffy and unrealistic. But Jannetta is thrown for a loop when a young man assigned to take her around and provide for her needs while in town tells her her books are “rot” and she could “do better.” Jannetta knows not everyone will like her books. This young man has a right to his opinions. He doesn’t mean anything to her, so his views shouldn’t affect her. But they do. Suddenly she is no longer interested in writing, much to the chagrin of her sister, who is dependent on her income.
Jannetta disappears for a while, and just about the time I began to wonder about her, she shows up again in the most clever way.
Another prominent character in this book is Archie Chevis-Cobb, Jerry’s brother. In the last book, he was immature and reckless, assuming he was going to be his aunt’s heir. But she keeps changing her will. In the end, he does inherit. But instead of this making him more spoiled, it sobers him. He wants to fight for his country, but Arthur and others convince him that his farm, which he has brought up to great standards, is needed to support the community.
A number of other smaller plots occur: sullen, sloppy evacuees are a trial to Jerry; Barbara tries to help her young lovesick neighbor through a relationship that is obviously not good for him; a spy is reportedly lurking in the area; Jerry takes in a paying guest, Jane; a runaway girl wants to stay with Jerry and Markie. Markie has a marvelous adventure.
Though Barbara is not as prominent in this book, the stories are delightful. In fact, this might be my favorite of the three books, but that’s with having the background of the first two in mind.
A few of my favorite quotes:
Jane felt glad to have known Markie, for Markie’s example had shown her that you could do humble things splendidly, and be happy doing them—and make others happy.
Janetta sighed. She reminded herself that hundreds of thousands of people enjoyed her stories and showed their appreciation by borrowing her books from libraries—or, better still, buying them and keeping them in their bookcases. She reminded herself of the large “fan mail” that poured into Angleside from all over the world (not only letters, but parcels of food from admirers in America and Canada and South Africa who were anxious to sustain her so that she might continue to delight them with her books).
In time she would realize romance was a good thing in the right place. It was not the whole of life—as Janetta had made it—nor was it entirely foolish, as Jane seemed to think. It was like chocolate cream, thought Archie, a certain amount of it was good for you and extremely palatable; too much of it made you sick.
Mrs. Marvel looked slightly annoyed, for she hated having to use her brain.
I listened to the audiobook, nicely read, as the others were, by Patricia Gallimore. My only complaint is that the narrator changed the voice she used for Jerry from the last book and made her sound snooty, which she wasn’t.
There is one more book that is sometimes included as a Miss Buncle book, The Four Graces. Barbara only appears at the very beginning at a wedding. But some of the other characters from The Two Mrs. Abbotts continue on. I’m enjoying listening to the audiobook of it now.
In The Shenandoah Road: A Novel of the Great Awakeningby Lynne Basham Tagawa, John Russell is a widower in need of a wife to mother his four-year-old daughter. Leaving his daughter in his sister’s care, John travels back to Boston, where his father lives, to do some trading and hopefully find a wife as well.
Abigail Williams is the daughter of a Boston merchant. Her father approaches her with a proposition. His bookkeeper’s son is looking for a woman to marry and accompany back to a settlement in Shenandoah. The two men are coming to dinner tonight. Would she think about the possibility?
The settlement in Shenandoah is smaller and much rougher than what Abigail is used to. But John Russell seems to be a kind man. She decides to marry him and go.
Abigail has dutifully kept the commandments all her life. But when John shares with her part of a sermon by George Whitfield, her heart is troubled. Is keeping the commandments not enough? How can she be sure she’s right with God?
As the Russells travel the long road back to the settlement by the Shenandoah River, they face dangers in roving buffalo, Indians, and a dangerous ruffian. Abigail wonders how she will adjust to life when she gets to John’s home. She feels her lack of knowledge about everyday housewifery. She wonders if John’s daughter will accept her. But most of all, she struggles to understand the words from Whitfield and the Bible that her husband shares with her.
I don’t know that I have ever read a novel from this time period, though I was familiar with Whitfield and Jonathan Edwards and such. It seems like every believer would have been thankful for the “Great Awakening.” But just like in our times, people had different opinions about the various proponents and points of doctrine. It was interesting to see some of that discussed.
I enjoyed the historical aspects of daily life, as well. Abigail loved botany, especially the medicine use of plants. It’s unfortunate that we’ve gotten away from such knowledge today.
I enjoyed getting to know John and Abigail as hey got to know and appreciate each other.
Still, I wasn’t swept into the story and characters as often happens with fiction. I can’t quite put my finger on why. But even though I wasn’t spellbound, the book is still a good one.
For readers, nothing sounds more cozy than curling up with a good book, a throw blanket, and a cup of coffee and a cookie or two within reach. Add in a warm fire, a rainy day, and just the right lamp, and we’re in reading heaven.
Or perhaps your ideal reading environment is on the beach under an umbrella, or on your back deck during a cool evening.
In any of those scenarios, we probably picture a physical book. In fact, friends have told me that they don’t like the idea of e-books because they like the feel of an actual ink-and-paper book in their hands.
I understand that. I can’t imagine reading Little Women, for instance, without my favorite old-fashioned illustrated version.
I first started using the Kindle app on my iPad mini for traveling purposes. Otherwise, I’d bring at least two, and possibly three, books with me anywhere I went. I also wanted to take advantage of the occasional Kindle sale or free book. But I never thought the Kindle app would become my main source of reading.
However, once I got used to the Kindle app and discovered many of its features, I grew to love it. When I talked with a paper-book-only friend about some of these Kindle features, she had been totally unaware of them. So I thought I’d share some of these features with you in case you had not heard of them, either. This is not a paid or affiliate post.
All of these features are on the Kindle app. I assume they are all on the Kindle device as well, but I don’t know.
By the way, I’m avoiding the term “real book.” Paper, digital and audio books are all real books.
The Kindle app:
Saves space. It’s nice to “pack” a whole library rather than trying to fit three books into my baggage when traveling. But even at home, I don’t have any space for more books. We have three full-size bookcases, one half-size, and at least three boxes of books in closets. I’ve culled books to give away several times, but my bookcases are still full. There’s no room in the house to add any more.
Adjustment of text size. The print in some books is tiny. I can set the text in the Kindle app to the size that’s best for me.
Easier to hold, especially while lying down. If you’ve ever read in bed, I’m sure you’ve experienced your book falling in your face or your hand cramping after a while.
Can be used on Apple devices as well as many Android. The iPad mini is the perfect size for me, but if you prefer reading on a regular iPad or other device, you can.
Built-in dictionary. If I come across an unfamiliar word while reading, I don’t usually take the time to stop and look it up. I get the gist of it from the context and keep going. But in the Kindle app, you can highlight the word, then a dictionary definition will pop up. I’ve gotten so used to that feature, I’ve wished it was available on everything I read online as well as in ink-and-paper books!
Translations.You can also highlight phrases in another language and get the translation instantly.
Highlighting. You can highlight passages in the book in five different colors. I usually just use the standard yellow for quotes I want to remember. But sometimes I’ve used blue for main points so I can see them at a glance.
Add notes. When you highlight a section, an icon will show up at the top that looks like a paper and pencil. You can tap that and add your own notes–like writing in the margin of a paper book.
Search function. When you tap on a page in the Kindle app, a magnifying glass icon appears at the top. You can search for a particular word or name or phase. Sometimes I forget who a particular character is, so this feature is like looking back several pages to refresh your memory. Or if I remember a snatch of a sentence but didn’t highlight it, I can look it up.
List of notes. That same list of icons that appears at the top of the page when you tap it also shows an icon that looks like page or notebook. Tap that, and you’ll see a list of all the quotes you’ve highlighted from the book as well as notes you’ve added. This is a great help to me when I just want to review the book for my own memory or when writing a review for the blog. I can tap on a highlighted quote, email it to myself, then copy and paste it into a blog post.
Kindle sales. I’ve mentioned before that I check Kindle sales from Inspired Reads and Gospel eBooks lists. Though these are Christian sites, I would not endorse everything they list. But I’ve gotten scores of books trough them. A $1.99 e-book is a great way to try an new author or stock up on books from a favorite author. Plus I get a weekly email from Iron Stream Media offering some of their books free or for 99 cents.
Advance readers or launch teams. Most authors use e-versions rather than an ink-and-paper book to send to readers who agree to review an upcoming book or serve on an author’s launch team. So having Kindle access affords you that opportunity.
Syncs to any device that supports a Kindle app. I mentioned that I usually read e-books on my iPad mini. But I have the Kindle app on my iPhone as well. So if I find myself with an unexpected wait time while I’m out, I can read a bit. It’s not as easy to read a book on a phone, but it can be done, and it’s a good way to pass the time waiting.
Whispersync. If you get the same book via Amazon for the Kindle and Audible for an audiobook, if they are set up to “Whispersync,” you can pick up with one from where you left off on the other. I don’t usually do this–I usually have one or the other. But occasionally, usually due to sales, I’ll have both. It’s nice to be able to go back and forth.
As with anything else, there are a few disadvantages to using the Kindle app. Here are a few:
It’s harder to share books. I believe Amazon lets you share Kindle books with another person for two weeks. But it’s easier to hand them a book for however long they need it. Of course, if your friend doesn’t live near you, sharing electronically is an advantage.
You can’t see what others are reading. I liked the idea that I was “advertising” a book by reading it in public. Or I’d see what someone else was reading and ask about it. You can’t really do that with an e-book without feeling intrusive.
Your device needs charging. But we’re so used to charging devices, that’s not much of a hardship. Unless the power is out.
You don’t really own Kindle books. This is the biggest disadvantage to me. If an author or publisher decides to take their books down, and they are not downloaded on your device, they’ll just disappear from your library. Thankfully, that doesn’t happen often.
You can’t give or sell your read e-books like you can ink-and-paper books.
If you’re trying to reduce screen time due to eye strain or other reasons, you might prefer a physical book.
By and large, I’ve found the advantages to using the Kindle app outweigh the advantages.
Do you use the Kindle or Kindle app? What do you like or dislike about it?
In D. E. Stevenson’s novel, Miss Buncle’s Book (linked to my review), Barbara Buncle is a quiet single lady in 1930s England who needs to make some money. So she writes a book about what she knows–her neighbors. She changes their names and some of their activities. Her book becomes a best-seller. But some of her neighbors recognize themselves and their town. And some of them are determined to find out who is behind the pseudonym “John Smith.”
At the end of that book (spoiler alert), Miss Buncle marries her publisher, Arthur Abbott. They move to Hampstead Heath, away from the heat caused by Barbara’s book.
Miss Buncle Married opens with the newlywed couple enjoying married life, but not the city. They’re expected to be out almost every night, playing bridge with friends and attending events. They long for a quieter home life. So Barbara starts looking at houses in the country.
Barbara finds the house of her dreams in Wandlebury. Arthur isn’t sure about the fixer-upper. But Barbara has everything redone nicely, and they love their new home.
It’s not long before they meet their new neighbors. The pastor’s wife who loves to gossip, thinking it gives her and “in” with her neighbors, when really they hold her at arm’s length because they don’t want to become her subjects. A large, temperamental artist, his languid wife, and their three children, two of whom have claimed Barbara’s back yard as their playground. Mrs. Chevis-Cobb, the society matron who changes her will when her relatives displease her. Jerry, a young woman who supports herself by caring for horses.
Arthur’s nephew, Sam, comes to visit the Abbotts regularly and begins to mature nicely.
Of course, the reader wonders, “Will Barbara write another book? And will it get her into as much trouble as last time?” I’ll leave that for you to discover.
Barbara is presented in both books as somewhat naive and innocent, yet with amazing insight in some ways. She doesn’t mean to meddle, but her attempts to help people present some quite funny episodes in the book.
Some of my favorite quotes from the book:
He . . . looked at his wife, and, as he looked at her, he smiled because she was nice to look at, and because he loved her, and because she amused and interested him enormously. They had been married for nine months now, and sometimes he thought he knew her through and through, and sometimes he thought he didn’t know the first thing about her—theirs was a most satisfactory marriage.
Jerry found Barbara very soothing and comforting during this difficult time. It was not necessary to confide in Barbara to gain her sympathy—you just talked to Barbara about odds and ends of things, and you came away feeling a different creature.
“It’s turned out all right after all,” she said contentedly. “Things usually do, somehow. You worry and fuss and try to make things go the way you think they should, and then you find that the other way was best. I’m going to try not to worry about things anymore.”
As with the first book, this is a secular work, and thus I wouldn’t agree with everything here, like many classics. It’s a clean story, but there are some oddities, especially with the strange family next door.
But all in all, this was a sweet, funny story. I listened to the audiobook superbly read by Patricia Gallimore. The picture above is from the audiobook cover as well, which I like much better than the book cover.
Stray Thoughts 