「and you would be welcome to live there with me;」

[orangiah]

I tell myself I don't write as much as I used to anymore, which is probably true, but I guess my 3000+ word chapter summaries and impressions I've been trying to log for each book I read are better than nothing, so for lack of any other content lately I guess I'll copy-paste a few excerpts from my Calibre comments over here. I'd call these more personal "reactions" than "reviews," really, so they might not be too coherent without having read the source work.

The Orthodox Heretic: And Other Impossible Tales by Peter Rollins

A collection of short "parables" by Peter Rollins that question the nature of Christian faith.

I first read this collection back when I was struggling with my faith, and despite ultimately deciding to leave it, I still remember the powerful impression these stories left on me. Even now, from a largely atheistic perspective, I still find them compelling. They call to the type of Christian I would want to be and the radical nature of faith that strikes me as closest to truth. But perhaps it is no surprise, then, that I extracted the more humanist elements from it (Finding Faith) and left the trappings behind. Even so, there is something in here that still resonates with me―not just in the call to radical grace, but also in the overwhelming yearning for Christ himself, not for the sake of a promised reward but for his own sake (Being the Resurrection; The Last Trial). I remember crying the first time I read Mansions. Descriptions of the splendor of Heaven have never particularly appealed to me. But to live simply, with Jesus, in love, for eternity―I almost yearn for a return to faith, just to hold that image.

A few of these hit me in a more romantic way―I suppose parallels have often been drawn between Christ and his bride, seeing Christ as a lover, but since that doesn't really apply to me anymore I can fully project all mention of the unknowability of the infinite interior world of our beloved onto a human being instead (Awaiting the Messiah).

Darwin Comes to Town: How the Urban Jungle Drives Evolution by Menno Schilthuizen

Evolutionary biologist Menno Schilthuizen provides an overview of how wildlife has adapted to urban environments.

I've been wanting to read more on urban biodiversity ever since hearing about Unseen City on NPR, but I ended up buying this book first since I saw it on sale. I love the city and have often been frustrated by characterizations of it as opposite to nature, when in fact cities are a powerful part and force of nature itself, so I really appreciated Schilthuizen's appreciation for the adaptability of nature while still allowing for some sadness at what has been lost in exchange. The examples provided in each chapter are fascinating and the tone is breezy and conversational, and I'm curious to read more as the field of urban ecology continues to develop.

House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski

Johnny Truant pieces together scraps of an essay on a documentary film about a mysterious house that is larger on the inside than on the outside.

I've had this in my mind as one of my favorite books ever since reading it in high school, but I didn't remember the actual details of it so I was excited to read it again! In the end I found myself skimming through most of Johnny's segments and overall uninterested in his storyline, but The Navidson Record itself more than makes up for it all. I wonder if it's partly because I'm used to reading academic prose, or even just that I've been more in the mood for non-fiction lately―even the drier parts of Zampanò's analyses were more interesting than Johnny's rambling imagery, however poetic and evocative that rambling was when I did try to read it in earnest. I think it succeeds in conveying precisely the haunting atmosphere I've been searching for in horror films (now that I think about it, maybe I find written horror overall more convincing than cinematic horror).

The Great Divorce by C.S. Lewis

An allegorical tale about a bus ride from Hell to Heaven.

I have trouble reading such moralizing composed of exaggerated strawmen. Not that such people don't exist, and perhaps not even that I am immune to such fallacies, but it's hard to shake the feeling of condescension and superiority in depicting other people's flaws so shallowly. Then again, I've always felt uncomfortable deigning to place judgment on others. I think my main objection is that Lewis never convincingly explains how a Christian belief is necessary to avoid such pitfalls of sin―is it so impossible for one to enjoy a process more than a result, or to hold controversial views with genuine conviction, or to achieve an atheistic understanding of truly selfless love? That said, I found the imagery of Heaven as being so "real" that the Ghosts could not affect it fascinating, and although I remain unconvinced of its exclusivity or existence, descriptions of the glory and joy of Heaven always move me powerfully.

China in Ten Words by Yu Hua, translated by Allan H. Barr

An autobiographical collection of essays on Chinese society during and since the Cultural Revolution.

I realized while reading this book that I know shamefully little about Chinese history, but I was pleasantly surprised at how accessible it was, even to me. Yu writes with a simplistic poignancy―he self-deprecatingly attributes this to a lack of vocabulary, but I think his matter-of-factness about his experiences lends even more weight to his analyses about contemporary society. China itself remains a distant mystery to me, and I often find myself unwittingly carrying over some of the resentment from Hong Kong and Taiwan―which is all the more reason why I think it's important for me to try to understand it and its people better.