Category Archives: book reviews

Book Review: The Christians as the Romans Saw Them

Today I finished reading The Christians as the Romans Saw Them, by Robert L. Wilken, 1984 Yale University Press, ISBN 0-300-03627-2. Make that Dr. Robert L. Wilken. He is a retired professor of Early and Medieval Christian History and Thought at the University of Virginia. I did not find a biography of Dr. Wilken. You can find a summary of the book contents here.

I would not add this to my list of favorite books, but I did find it useful. Wilkens took the writings of five Roman critics of Christianity during the first three hundred years after Christ: Pliney the Younger, Galen, Celsus, Porphyry, and Julian the Apostate. These men cover the years 110 AD to about 363 AD. Wilkens chose, rather than to survey the entire body of Christian criticism produced in this period, to focus on these five key critics. Each one represents a different era in the life of the church.

During Pliney’s time as governor of Bithinia, Christians were still a tiny minority in the overall empire. By the time of Julian, Christianity was the State religion, embraced by Constantine a few decades before. Of the five, only Julian was raised a Christian and so had personal knowledge of the religion. The others were mainly doing their criticism from study of Christian texts and observation (or reports) of how Christians lived.

I found the book difficult to read. Part of this was the editing. Paragraphs in the same chapter, presenting close to the same infomation, often did so without awareness that the other paragraph existed. It was as if the author wrote these paragraphs at different times, maybe working at the end of a chapter then at the beginning, inserting and deleting through the revision process, then forgot to delete something that was no longer needed. I especially noticed this in the chapters on Porphyry and Julian. In addition, this read more like a college textbook (which perhaps it was intended to be) than for casual reading.

One thing that struck m was now each of these critics became aware of Christians or thought of the need to be a critic of them. It was always because of the lives of Christians, not because of their writings. The Christians lived as a people apart, taking no part in government or politics, shunning the State religion, but otherwise living exemplary lives. In this I found a lesson for today.

Should you read this book? I cannot recommend it. And I probably would not have finished it except I almost always finish any book I start, and I thought it might be additional research to add to Doctor Luke’s Assistant. I don’t think I will add it to my permanet library. Anyone want it? Cost of postage, only.

What I didn’t like about DUNE

The last couple of posts told what I liked about Dune. In this post, I want to say some of the things I didn’t like.

– A little short on back story: I can’t put my finger on specifics, but throughout the book, despite the way Herbert expertly works in back story, I wanted more. A little bit more of how the universe got to where it was.

– Just short on explanation: Many times I felt things happening in the book were not explained as clearly as I would have liked. I felt I lacked understanding on some things, and that was disturbing.

– Pagan-like religions: I am never comfortable reading about pagan religions, or witnessing their rituals, even if only in words. At several points after Paul and Jessica joined the Fremen, Herbert gives us this paganism. I read it, but didn’t particularly like it.

– Barron Harkonnen: He was too much a villain. From his obesity to his evil intents to the implied homosexuality (with that shown in a vile way), he was evil. The best advice I have seen on creating villains is that they must have some redeeming qualities, not be 100 percent evil. The fat Barron was, and that was a negative.

– the emperor’s gambit: I never did understand why the emperor set up Duke Leto, ordering ordering the Harkonnens off the planet then ordering Duke Leto to take over Arrakis, but then aiding and abetting the Harkonnen’s recapture of it. Why? What was he after? Late in the book was a suggestion that Duke Leto was so nice in the way he dealt with subjugated peoples, and he was so effective at training his fighting personnel, that the emperor felt threatened and had to do away with him. Maybe that was it, all of it, but I wish it had been better explained.

– the change in Paul: When Paul had his visions, described as prescient memory, and his personality changed, he was a less-likable character. And less understandable. I could probably write a whole post on this, but I’d have to go back and pick out some specific examples. I’ll just say I didn’t like Paul as much after his change than before.

Well, that’s it for Dune, I think. If you haven’t read it, I suggest reading it. It’s long, and sometimes tedious, but well worth the read.

Still more on DUNE

I’ll continue today discussing more that I liked about Dune.

– Omniscient POV: I mentioned this in one of my mid-way posts. I love the omniscient point of view. This is where the narrator sees everything from the narrator’s perspective, and can get inside the character’s heads to know their thoughts. The omniscient narrator sees what he sees, what each character sees, what each character thinks, and can even tell you what the narrator thinks. Herbert leaves off the latter, but does all the former. In one paragraph he sees what Paul-Muad’dib sees and what he is thinking. In the next paragraph, in the same scene, he sees what Jessica sees and what she is thinking. Omniscient POV has gone out of fashion. At writing classes, new authors are cautioned against using this POV. Go with third-person limited, they say, or even just third person. Too much chance of making a mistake with omniscient.

I just can’t agree with that. Most of the books I have liked–the sagas of Wouk and Michener–are in omniscient POV. To my way of thinking, this gives the reader a richer experience. We are not limited by what one character sees in a scene. We know what all characters see and what all characters think. That’s what I like, and Frank Herbert gave it to me in Dune.

– Violence is downplayed: I am not a big fan of violence, and I hate shoot-’em-up books and movies. In Dune, there is violence, but it is written so skillfully and so downplayed that I almost missed some of it. When Paul and Jessica were captive in a ‘thopter, looking for a way to escape, Paul winds up killing one of their captors. I didn’t realize he had done so until a little later in the scene there was only one captor left. I had to go back and re-read the earlier description, and then I saw it. Maybe I read right through it. Certainly we saw pieces of battles when the Harkonnens returned to take back Arrakis. But to me the violence was kept to a minimum. You knew some of it was going on in the background. It was foreshadowed a lot, but actual scenes of violence were few, and subtly written.

– The spice: Arrakis, as a desert planet, has little value to the universe, except for one thing: the spice, melange. Mildly addictive in small quantities, this stuff can be found on no other planet. Consequently men go to great lengths to find it, mine it, transport it, black-market it, etc. Apparently the giant sandworms manufacture it, though how they do this was not made clear, or at least I didn’t fully get it in the read. It turns the whites of eyes light blue, and the iris/pupil dark blue. At first I thought the Fremen having these eyes was genetic, but by the end of the book I understood it to be environmental, for Paul and Jessica’s eyes were beginning to change after a few years living as Fremem. I’d like to know more about the spice, as I’ll mention in another post.

– Paul & Jessica’s escape: I’m out of time and can’t write much, but this was superbly written. Over several chapters P & J are drugged and bound, taken before the vile Barron Harkonnen, taken off to be dumped in the desert, escape from those guys, are found and helped by Duncan Idaho and Liet Kynes, must go into the open desert again, must dodge sandworms, and eventually must convince a group of forty Fremen they are not enemies to be killed for their water, but friends who need help. Their adventures were a highlight of the book for me.

More coming. Next will be the things I didn’t like about Dune.

More on DUNE

I am at work, intending to write the next post in my review of Dune, but discover I do not have my notes with me. Let me just plunge in then, and do what I can without either the book or my notes at hand.

For today, a few things I liked about Dune

– the desert life descriptions: While Herbert did not go into great lengths to describe the deserts of Arrakis, he did show how the scarcity of water affected everything in that desert world. I loved the concept of the dew harvesters, with their swishing sickle-type contraptions. So effective was Herbert at this, that I cringed when Duke Leto, at his first state dinner on Arrakis, dumped half his glass of water on the floor, and his guests had to do the same. What a waste. I believe Leto was planning on making a point about this in future dinners, but of course never had the chance.

– the Fremen culture: This was another great achievement of Herbert. How much thought he must have given to a people who live in the desert without an oasis, who must dodge monster sand worms and yet do so expertly, who must avoid being enslaved by whatever family currently has the planet as its fiefdom, having developed a culture that accomplishes all of this. Such things as the still suits and tents, the sietches, riding the sandworms, etc. are quite well developed and written. Again, Herbert does not spoon-feed us with elaborate explanations of how this culture came into being. Enough information is given on most of these to understand them from the context.

– reliance on Arabic: Obviously much of the names and terms in the book are derived from the Arabic language, even using directly such words as jihad and hajj in the Arabic meaning. As one who lived five years in the Arab world, and who knows a smattering of Arabic, I found this enjoyable. Some terms, such as the words of greeting (can’t type it in since I don’t have the book here; will edit tonight) are close to the Arabic. I imagine some found this difficult or tedious. I found it enjoyable.

– the downplay of technology: In Dune, the technologies are assumed, not described. Space travel is a given, and no information is given on spacecraft. The ‘thopers, for atmospheric travel, are never really explained. Suspensers, poison snoopers, shields, and many other technological advances that are not in our 21st century world are not explained; they simply are. I found this good. The book was long enough without adding too much explanation of what they are and how they worked. Perhaps this is the way of all science fiction writing. Since I don’t read it much (the last was Isaac Asimov’s Foundation Trilogy and the two sequels back in the 70s), I wouldn’t know. But I liked it.

I am out of time, and probably have a long enough post. I’ll continue soon.

Book Review: DUNE

Dune by Frank Herbert, 1965, The Berkeley Publishing Group, Special markets Hardcover September 2005, ISBN 0-441-01405-4

How does one go about writing a review of Dune? It’s a massive job. I shall need three days to say most of what’s in my head. Imagine, therefore, how much more difficult it was to write the book in the first place. The achievement of Frank Herbert is immense. To create the planet Arrakis, with all its culture based on physical characteristics, and the worlds beyond Arrakis is a staggering work, easily rivaling the achievement of J.R.R. Tolkien.

I began reading Dune on June 15 this year, and finished July 19. As I said in previous posts (here and here), I found the beginning very hard reading. Herbert did not spoon-feed his readers. We have to figure it out from the barest of clues. On the first page I was confronted with the term Kwisatz Haderach, planets Caladan and Arrakis, the Atriedes family, and the curious term “suspensor lamp”. Strange words, strange concepts, hard going. I didn’t realize I had a “Terminology of the Imperium” section in the back. I assumed I had to figure these out from context or later illumination.

The second page presented the gom jabbar, Bene Gesserit, CHOAM, Landsraad, etc. The first five pages, even the first fifty pages, threw up one difficulty toward full understanding after another. I like to understand what I read. If I can’t figure out something from the context or internal explanation, I consult a dictionary, or even on occasion an encyclopedia. But where to go to understand Bene Gesserit? Nothing to do but read on and hope to figure it all out from accumulated context. I did, eventually, stumble on the glossary, and made frequent flips there. It wasn’t the most helpful, but consistent with Herbert’s aversion to spoon-feeding. I read fairly slowly, trying to maximize my understanding. Possibly the need to understand caused me not to focus on some plot elements, or the depth of character development.

Once I was past the first fifty pages, the extent of new terms diminished. Some others started to become familiar. I consulted the glossary less, and enjoyed the book more. The mind fog over Arrakis started to clear (and in so doing, I hope, provided something for the dew harvesters to collect), and the plot stood front and center. About the time Jessica and Paul had to escape from their Harkonnen captors (or were they Sardukuar?) was when I began to see the big picture.

On the next two days–I think; it could take longer–I’m going to cover what I liked and didn’t like about Dune. Today I’ll simply mention that I like the fact the book had no swearing, no overt sex scenes, and little violence. Oh, there were wars, battles, and knife fights, but the covering of this was superbly done by Herbert, such that you almost didn’t know it was a violent scene. The violence was not gratuitous, and the book did not rise or fall on the violence. This, I feel, is a mark of good writing.

So I conclude today by saying put me in the camp of fans of Dune. Some day I will re-read this, and I don’t re-read many books. Thanks to my son for this gift, which has enriched me. More later.

Book Review: The Dark Side of Camelot

I finished Dune yesterday, but I’ll need a few days to write my review; it will probably extend over two or three days. So today I will review a book I finished shortly before starting this blog: The Dark Side of Camelot by Seymour M. Hersh; 1997; Little, Brown and Company; ISBN 0316359556.

I have read much about the Kennedy family: the assassinations, the presidency, the ancestors, and the descendants. There is no shortage of books in this subject, for the Kennedy saga combines much of what made America great: immigration, entrepreneuism, politics. However, as Seymour Hersh reports, a dark side also existed. Past books have touched on this to varying degrees, and most people today who dig just a little bit into the Kennedy story know it is not always pretty.

Hersh set out to focus on John F. Kennedy’s run for the presidency and his time in that office. He begins with recounting events from November 22, 1963. He focuses on what Bobby Kennedy did, how he immediately moved to hide JFK’s private files, put them under lock and key. He hid the president’s medical records, to keep the world from learning just what a physical basket case JFK was. As he says, “But it was the man closest to John F. Kennedy who needed to put aside his grief and begin immediately to hide all evidence of Kennedy’s secret life from the nation–as well as from the new president….” And, “The brothers understood, as the public did not, that they were just one news story away from cataclysmic political scandal.”

Kennedy’s legacy is one of liberal strength, of diplomatic successes, of great speeches and hard work, etc. Hersh is able to pull the mask off the true JFK and unravel some of this unjustified legacy. Most people have heard about his womanizing, but the extent of moral depravity in our 35th president is astounding. After a late start in the Oval office most mornings, Kennedy would eat lunch there when Jacqui was away, then would go to the White House pool for a naked swimming party with some of his aids and White House secretaries. Hersh explain how when Kennedy was on the road, his aide David Powers was responsible for procuring the hookers who would fill the evening for JKF and others. As a consequence, JFK had round after round of venereal disease, and took massive doses of antibiotics, as well as steroids for other ailments.

Hersh does not confine himself to Kennedy’s personal life, however. Clearly documented are: the purchasing of the Democratic nomination in 1960 with the help of the Mafia and Daddy Kennedy’s money; the probable stealing of the election in November of that year; the bumbling approach to State issues, where every action was couched, not so much by what was best for America, but by what was politically expedient; the cavalier attitude to the Bay of Pigs invasion by Kennedy and those around him; the way they (JFK and RFK) almost threw away victory in the Cuban missile crisis; and Kennedy’s true plans for Vietnam. It is all an incredible revelation.

Hersh wrote his book at exactly the right time. The 1990s were thirty years removed from the presidency that the media called Camelot. Many of the people–the little people no one ever heard of, and the aides to aides–who played a part in the presidency were still alive, and enough years had passed that they were ready to talk. Secret service men spoke freely about how they felt about having to stand outside hotel suite doors while the president was consorting with prostitutes. Those involved in various diplomatic “successes” talked about the truth of the crisis and what the Kennedys knew.

The book has some flaws. It is not documented with rigorous footnotes to sources. The end of the book has “Chapter Notes”, wherein Hersh tells of his sources, who he talked with for each chapter, and the nature of what he learned. The way the book is written leads me to conclude it is accurate; I’d just wish he’d have done more footnotes. Then, there is Hersh’s habit of saying, “In an interview for this book in…”. After the first half dozen times we get the picture that he conducted extensive interviews. After 100 times it was annoying. After 500 times….

This is an excellent read. I encourage all to read it, especially if you still believe JFK was a great president.

20 More Pages in DUNE

I didn’t read any in Dune last night or the night before, but I did tonight, after returning home from writers critique group; twenty pages, bringing me up to page 316. My edition has 515 pages of book, plus about 30 of appendixes. Tonight I read when Paul and Jessica are accosted by a group of forty Fremen, but are able to work their way out of it and to gain the protection of this desert community. These were two nicely written chapters (found one typo; just a missing close quote). Paul quickly becomes enamored with a Fremen girl his age, and his mother seems to have an opening for a romantic relationship with the leader of this group.

In the next to last scene, Jessica takes advantage of the superstitions planted around the universe by the Bene Gessirit, and as a result we see a Fremen religious ceremony. I found this scene hard to follow. My mind drifted off twice, and I had to re-read to get it; even on the re-read I found it tough. I don’t know if that was the writing or just a normal (for me) aversion to pagan religious stuff.

Despite that one difficulty, the book continues enjoyable. Hopefully I can cover the remaining 200 pages in not more than 20 days, and come back to give a full report.

DUNE: the half-way report

Yesterday I reached, and today I passed, the halfway point in Dune, Frank Herbert’s 1965 science fiction novel. My son gave this to me for Christmas (or birthday; they’re pretty close together), and about three weeks ago it finally came to the top of the pile. My son gave it a good endorsement, saying it helped to define, or maybe it was change, the science fiction genre. I’m not much of a science fiction or fantasy person, but with that endorsement, and trying to please him, when it came to the top and it was time to read fiction, I plunged.

The first fifty pages were very hard reading. So many terms to learn, so many flips to the glossary. So much going back to re-read paragraphs that didn’t seem to make sense. Actually, this went on for closer to a hundred pages (my version is 540 pages, including appendixes). I found myself unable to read more than five to ten pages a day.

After a while, though, I fell into a rhythm, and began to find the work enjoyable. Some terms started to become familiar; others could be deciphered from context. The main plot line became clear, and the characters became real. The writing is stellar, and this book has one thing I really like in a book: omniscient narrator point of view. In all my writing instruction sources, they say omniscient is out of favor, and new writers should avoid it. As a reader, however, I prefer it, so why wouldn’t I write in it? Tonight I finished a chapter where Paul and his mother are the only characters in the scene. In one paragraph we are in Paul’s head; in the next one in Jessica’s. And I say, “Hallelujah!” What an exciting way to write. The caution against head hopping is, IMHO, way over stated.

Back to Dune, I can’t imagine how much time it took Herbert to create this. It seems more fantasy to me than science fiction. Possibly these two genres frequently merge when the science fiction is so far out there to make Earth invisible. His creation of the desert situations–the sand worms and the Fremen and stillsuits and the whole concept about water conservation is outstanding. The empire, with the tripartite arrangement between the royal house and the guild and the leading families, which has barely come out, is an interesting foundation of the plot. Back story is worked in expertly by Herbert.

I’m on a roll now, reading twenty pages a day or a few more. I’m anxious to learn how Paul and Jessica return to civilization; how Thufir Hawat learns who the real traitor is; what the emperor’s gambit is; etc. A few things I question, but imagine they will be explained later. For example, the last chapter I read this evening told of the death of Kynes, the Fremen planetologist who served as the judge of the change. Given that he died, and will have no more part in the story (unless he really didn’t die; we don’t have a corpus delecti yet, and I always maintain until you have the corpus delecti you don’t have a death), why did Herbert spend so much time on the death? Was it just to work in some of Arrakis’ physical characteristics, which Paul will pick up on later in this (or a subsequent) volume? The weeks ahead will tell.

More Thoughts on "Lost Letters of Pergamum"

Yesterday I posted a review of Lost Letters of Pergamum by Bruce W. Longenecker. I feel that I left some things out of that post, or rather, that I did not develop my thoughts adequately and give examples.

After posting yesterday, I decided to begin reading it again, since I read only limited segments of it before my review, and those for a different purpose than for review. I read 57 pages last night (lots of white space in this book, though), and found some examples of the points I made yesterday.

I said sometimes Longenecker seems to throw in some statements presumably made by the 1st century writer that seem designed to inform the 21st century reader, and thus did not seem natural in the letter. Here’s an example:

“But after a two week hiatus, Rufinus and I met outside the city walls in the temple of Isis, the mistress of Pergamum, to continue….”
Sixth Letter Series, letter from Antipas to Luke, pages 61-64, quote from page 62.

I doubt a first century writer would have added “the mistress of Pergamum”, as this would have been common knowledge to educated people in the province of Asia at that time. Another example is the discussion on page 63, in the same letter, where Antipas describes the leading cities of Galilee, for the purpose of contrasting them with the low status of Nazareth. After several he says “built [or re-built] by Herod Antipas“. This seems unnatural. Perhaps this statement is justified in that, later in the letter, Antipas remarks on how John the Baptist was critical of Herod Antipas, and thus Antipas wanted to build Herod up by highlighting his pubic building projects. Possibly, but it still has an unnatural feel.

On the other hand, the same letter shows what appears to be Longenecker’s faithfulness to the Roman culture. In the discussion of the lowly position of Nazareth, Antipas says “If the goal of your narrative is to demonstrate Jesus’ claim to honor, it will have a lot of ground to cover.” Thus, the honor of the man is linked to the honor of the town. All I have read confirms this as a dominant thought in the Roman-dominated Mediterranean region. So Longenecker’s having Antipas make this statement adds believability to the book.

He (Antipas) also has this to say about John : “…the John who baptizes…certainly seemed a troubled soul…those priests would not have appreciated John either.” Thus, Antipas seems to be echoing the general thought of the day, that heroes must be perfect. Longenecker shows how this would have been a stumbling block to an educated Roman or Greek who considered Judaism or Christianity. After all, their founder was a liar who wouldn’t protect his wife. The most famous king was an adulterer and a murderer. Their military champions were often nobodies, or corrupt nobodies. Their prophets at times refused to prophesy and, when they did and the people repented, they sulked instead of rejoiced.

I don’t want to make too much of this point. In Greek and Roman mythology, their gods were far from moral. It seems, though, that their human heroes were pretty close to perfect. Been a while since I read Homer, however.

I repeat what I said yesterday: it’s an excellent read, just not a page turner. I suppose that’s why the publisher was Baker Academic.

Book Review: Lost Letters of Pergamum

I first read the Lost Letters of Pergamum (Bruce W. Longenecker, 2003, Baker Academic) a couple of years ago, at the recommendation of my son-in-law and with his copy of the book. He knew that I love reading letters as literature, as regular readers of this blog will know. My collection of books of letters–some read, some in the queue–include Charles Lamb, Emerson with Carlyle, George H.W. Bush, John Wesley, Cicero, Pliney the Younger, Dylan Thomas, Teddy Roosevelt, Charles Darwin, and a few others. Some of these I accessed on-line and formatted for ease of printing/reading, and printed them.

He also knew I was working on a book about the writing of the gospel of Luke (Doctor Luke’s Assistant), and so recommended this since it deals much with Luke’s gospel. These letters are fiction, created by Longenecker to represent the typical letters of the era, and show how the gospel of Luke might have been viewed/interpreted/accepted by the educated, wealthy class of the time. The protagonist is Antipas, son of Philip, a wealthy merchant/landowner, late of Tyre and now of Pergamum. He writes to Calpurnius, son of Theophilus, of the city of Ephesus. This eventually turns into a series of letters between Antipas and Luke, who lives in Ephesus and is a friend of Calpurnius, the letters being about his gospel (called his “nomograph” by the correspondents). Slowly, Antipas is drawn into the faith. By the end of the book he is a Christian, and dies a martyr to save the life of Simon, of the common people. The relations of the rich to the common is one of the minor themes of the book.

Longenecker makes this Antipas the same person mentioned in Revelation, the the letter to the church at Pergamum: “Antipas, my faithful witness,…was put to death in your city [Pergamum]–where Satan lives.” This is a reasonable basis for the main character. He is further made to have been named in honor of Herod Antipas. The book includes three appendices, which include maps and the characters. The third appendix is the author’s notes of what he feels like is true in the letters, i.e. what can be defended historically, what is speculative but which he feels is probably true, and what is fiction. This is an important addition to the book.

If this book has a fault, it is that the letters sometimes include information that a letter writer would not really include, which appears added only to educate/inform the 21st century reader. Some is tolerable, such as in the first letter to someone who is a stranger. But I think Longenecker gives us a bit too much of this. Certainly, these items help us to better understand the correspondence and times, but make the letters a little less realistic.

I recently reviewed some of these letters to get Longenecker’s take on some of the historical facts. As I read through them for making this post, I was again struck by their excellence, and may keep them a while longer and read them once more before returning them. I highly recommend this book for any who are curious about the early days of Christianity, and how the growing faith was viewed by the educated people of the Roman world. The book has no three-act structure, no conflict, no real angst. No thrilling plot. It’s just great writing in its style.

Please see also the next post on this blog, More Thoughts on “Lost Letters of Pergamum”.