Books

I like to read. And I like to talk about books. I am not, though, a very disciplined reader. Some people flip television channels impatiently when a commercial comes on, I pick up a new book, depending on my frame of mind. This used to drive my spiritual director in the seminary crazy. He always told me I would read more efficiently if I focused on one at a time. (I was not willfully disobedient to him, just woefully lacking in will with regard to this point.)

I also think one of the most important gifts we can give to our children in the community is a love of books, and of reading. It is a way of traveling through time and place without ever having to get on an airplane. Believe me, I get on enough airplanes as it is, anytime I can go somewhere without having to go somewhere, I am like a kid at Christmas. There are of course good books, and bad books; disappointing books and surprisingly good books. Some books are good for the soul, some are not. Some books ornament the soul with a richer sense of the wonder of things. Some drag you down into a not very happy sense of the pain in things. I hesitate to recommend books unless I know a person fairly well. Why? Because a book is a world you enter into, but it is also a world that enters into you. Once it is in your memory, it is near impossible to erase at least its residual effects. The books by the Spanish author Carlos Ruiz Zafón (La sombra del viento, El juego del angel, El prisionero del cielo) sort of poke around that particular power in books. I am not sure if I fully agree with what his poking around this topic implies, but then, I am not sure I fully grasp what his books imply. I do know I enjoyed reading them. But my point is that we should be careful when we introduce something like a book into the memory of another; strive to make it something that builds up the goodness of a person, and not pull out the worst in people. You sort of have to know someone at least somewhat to know whether it will be worth their while to read a particular book. Everybody should read the Confessions of Saint Augustine at least once in their life.

People do ask me from time to time what I have read recently, and I usually list a few I have either just finished or just started, or that are still lingering in my mind even though I finished them a while back. Because of my lack of discipline, after a while, I do get confused about when I read a particular book and what I was thinking when I read it. The different books I read at any given time usually complement each other. That is not necessarily by design, it just sort of happens.  This blog, I thought, might provide me with a little discipline, in that every once in a while I can describe what I am reading, and invite anyone to comment if they want to.

I just finished the fifth book in the Las aventuras del Capitán Alatriste series by Arturo Perez-Reverte. It is entitled El caballero del jubón amarillo. The whole series is widely translated into many languages, and the English is easily available. If you like adventure stories, set in historically detailed 17^th Century Spain, during the reign of Felipe IV, this one is for you. But, be warned, the author methodically moves you to appreciate the paradox of a man, at once heroic and loyal, yet profoundly sad to not to be able to hope anymore in the final triumph of what is noble and heroic. The tired hero knows what he is supposed to do, he is just not sure anymore why he should be doing it. A personal sense of honor moves him, but even that powerful motive seems to be losing its efficacy. Set in olden days, the themes of the books are contemporary, if you take as a contemporary cultural preoccupation (as I do) the struggle to live honorably in a world where people think nothing can be trusted anymore. The stories have their brutal moments. Me parece que el autor sigue en la línea de sus otras obras, investigando las expresiones del heroísmo, y sus raíces, mientras muestra la figura de un héroe cansado. Este cansancio heroico es tema contemporáneo en el sentido que nuestra cultura todavía siente el impulso para grandes sacrificios para el bien, pero falta de confianza en las instituciones que tradicionalmente inspiran los sacrificios. Obviously, I enjoy this series, otherwise why am I about to start the sixth book in it?

I am almost done with Charles Taylor’s Modern Social Imaginaries. It is a finely instructive book. When I am done, I might say more about why this book, and others by Charles Taylor are important to know about.

More on these sorts of topics as time allows. In the meantime, read when you can!