Two books that have been long, steady, meaty reads are How To Keep Well by Albert Blaisdell, M.D., and A Turtle on a Fencepost by Allan C. Emery, Jr.
Until recently, I thought I had to read one book at a time, consistently, without starting another until the first is finished. If I still espoused that philosophy, then I might only read two or three books a year. Richer books like these two are the kind I like to eat a few bites of, then digest slowly. There's nothing hard about Blaisdell's book; it's a science book written in 1895 to teach young people about the body, its intricacies, and how to stay healthy. The reading was never boring; check out how artificial respiration used to look:
As fascinating as old medical books are to me, I can't exist on a steady diet of that same food all the time; my mind needs variety. I'm not always in the mood for this, just like I don't always desire pizza at every meal; my reading needs to be varied.
Emery's book, A Turtle on a Fencepost, is a gem. It's simply about his life; he describes his youth, his service in World War II, and life as a wool salesman. The tales of Emery's parents and their rich, real faith in Jesus delight and encourage. He recounts the many ways the Lord worked in his life, and how his faith was grown over the years. Again, this is a book to savor slowly, whose lessons are tiny nuggets of wisdom to be pondered deeply. I grew to admire this man, seeing him as a kind friend in Christ, wishing I could sit and hear firsthand about his experiences.
Two other books I finished a few weeks ago have basic similarities, yet startlingly stark differences:
The author of Laurel's Choices, Exie Wilde Henson, is first cousin of my husband's grandfather. She has captured the story of her parents, Joe and Ethel Wilde, in fiction form; this book is a condensed version of her other two novels. Frank McCourt also wrote about his parents' history and his upbringing in Angela's Ashes, telling raw truth with names unchanged. Both books focus on women, Laurel and Angela, and their lives; the reader experiences the details of their marriages, living situations, child-rearing, and intimate ups and downs.
Both were alike yet so different; Laurel's Choices was an easier read, although her family experienced its share of trials. This book depicts an educated woman's journey as the wife of a logger, living in the primitive conditions of a logging camp in the western North Carolina mountains in the 1920's. We get to travel with her through three decades as she has babies, cures illnesses, loves the unlovable, endures sorrow, leads Sunday school, prays for an unbelieving husband, fights for the right to vote, loses loved ones, and trusts the Lord. The reader watches Laurel's children's lives from birth to adulthood, enjoying each new adventure of the Worth family. This is a book that will keep you glued to its pages for hours.
As for Angela's Ashes, I had picked it up on the library sale shelf for a quarter. My dad had read it many years ago, and I remembered it as a best-seller. I decided to take it to the beach earlier this month, where I also took Laurel's Choices. When I finished Laurel's story, I took up Angela's. I spent many hours in this place, also unable to tear myself away from the details of her life:
Actually, one difference is that McCourt's book focuses on his own childhood, with his mother's story tucked into the folds. Who she was and the decisions she made greatly affected the chronicle of young Frank. If I had to describe McCourt's childhood in one word, I couldn't decide between two: appalling, or horrific? I wanted to take this little boy into my own home and love him like he deserved.
Angela's Ashes takes place almost exactly during the time period of Laurel's Choices, and both families lived in crude conditions. However, as I stated, the differences between these women and their households are severe. I didn't know whether to feel sorry for Angela, or to take her by the collar and shake her. I never felt sorry for Laurel, not even in the worst tragedies. Parts of both books are hard to stomach, although for different reasons. Laurel's story contains detailed descriptions of medical scenarios and their household remedies; Angela's has vivid images of abuse and poverty, plus some sexual components.
Frank McCourt states that it's a miracle that he lived through his childhood; I read this statement before I began the book, and it didn't take long for me to see what he meant. You may ask why I would want to read a book like that! In reading his account, I realized that McCourt's story was worth reading, not just for the man who probably healed immensely in writing it, but also for that innocent little boy who experienced such tragedy. I could only imagine how many adults I know today who lived through other traumatic experiences, myself included. We know nothing of peoples' journeys, and reading McCourt's intensifies the fact that we are all image-bearers with hurting hearts. My heart hurt for that little boy, and this book actually brought growth to my own heart. There is a sequel, 'Tis, that I'm not sure would be good for me to read. Toward the end of Ashes, descriptions began to be racy and heavily sexual in content, with McCourt as a young man on his way back to America, where he was born. As much as I would enjoy knowing how his story turned out, I don't know if I can handle the mind-pictures painted of this hurt boy's adulthood.
Speaking of food...
My eight-year-old presented me with this lunch awhile back. I love not only rich mind-food, but the richness of food prepared with love! God often allows her to minister to me in this way, whether it's making me a special dessert, drawing me a picture, or folding my bath towel hotel-style! It still is, and always will be, the "little" things that are big.
Some pearls from Charlotte Mason (from Chapter 6 of A Philosophy of Education):
"...we are empirically certain that a chief function of education is the establishment of such ways of thinking in children as shall issue in good and useful living, clear thinking, aesthetic enjoyment, and, above all, in the religious life."
"If we fail to ease life by laying down habits of right thinking and right acting, habits of wrong thinking and wrong acting fix themselves of their own accord."
"Physical fitness, morals and manners, are very largely the outcome of habit."
So....do we as adults exhibit good and useful living ourselves? Do we enjoy clear thinking, beauty, and a growing walk with Christ? Is this remotely close to what passes for education today? Are we as parents demonstrating right thinking and acting? Not that we are perfect, but that we repent and grow, trusting in God's Son, the only One who is perfect, pointing ourselves and our kids to Him? And do we think that morals and manners are just "lucky," depending on our kids' temperaments, or do we run a slow and stead race, instilling good habits in our kids as well as in ourselves, asking God's help at every step? Serious food for thought.
