Book Review: Home by Marilynne Robinson

This may as well serve as a double review; Home is the sequel to Gilead and so the setting, a fictional small town in Iowa, Gilead, and the principal characters remain the same.

In Home, the outlier of family, Jack Boughton, returns to live with his aging father, the retired church pastor, Reverend Robert Boughton, and his younger sister, Gloria.

Whereas Gilead’s narrator is Reverend John Ames, a lifelong friend of Reverend Boughton, and revolves around a series of letters written to his godson, Jack Boughton, Home is written in the third person and the action takes place almost entirely within the four walls of the Boughton’s house.

In some ways, this is a re-telling of the parable of the prodigal son. Like Gilead, Home is steeped in scripture and faith-related issues. Jack as a wayward youth, often in trouble with the law, now returns, his battles with alcohol unresolved, as is his family life, and faith. Will he, like the prodigal of Luke’s gospel ‘come to his senses’ and return home in a deeper way than merely geographically?

But the impact of Home for me was one of extraordinary attention to the minute detail of moods, tensions, fear of precedents, hope and disappointments, and moral dilemmas that the author, Marilynne Robinson brings to bear in Home page after page.

It’s a slow burn. Its major emotion is sadness

There are no chapter divisions – it is one long dive into the tension between old Reverend Boughton and his son Jack as they co-exist with Gloria, under one roof. In one sense they are deeply united and tender with each other, and yet there is a constant struggle to close the gap between father and son.

It’s a slow burn. Its major emotion is sadness.

So, why read Home? Why not read a good detective novel where, even if the detective is gravely flawed, you know the crime will be solved? Or a spy novel full of action and courage? Home is a blues novel, left, largely, on persistently unresolved blues notes. It does contain courage but its examination of brokenness includes failure as well as degrees of success.

So, why read it? Because it is brilliantly written.

Book Review: Gilead

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐲𝐧𝐧𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧, 𝐈𝐒𝐁𝐍 𝟏-𝟖𝟒𝟒𝟎𝟖-𝟏𝟒𝟖-𝟔

𝔀𝔀𝔀.𝓿𝓲𝓻𝓪𝓰𝓸.𝓬𝓸.𝓾𝓴

If you’re looking for a fast-paced thriller don’t read Gilead. If you’re looking for a gripping romance, look elsewhere. If it’s an injection of international intrigue you’re after, forget it; it’s intensely local.

And if you’re expecting chapters and traditional literary divisions you won’t find them here.

What you will find is an old-fashioned kettle left on the flames from page 1 until the whole book boils over and sings 280 pages later, its whistle running through you as it reaches an unanticipated climax in the final scenes.

The critic of the Sunday Times said simply: ‘A masterpiece’. That’s what it is.

Set in the small fictional town of Gilead, in 1956, it is written as a long letter written by John Ames, an elderly Congregational pastor, as an autobiographical memoir to his seven-year-old unnamed son, to be read after his death.

He’s not a man in a hurry and will make you long for a simpler lifestyle if life has become too cluttered

There are five main characters: elderly Reverand John Ames; his much younger wife, Lila, Reverand Robert Boughton, a retired Presbyterian minister and John’s lifelong friend, and Jack Boughton, his son.

It’s written carefully, and you realise early on that Reverand John Ames is a crucible for theology, philosophy, meditation, and prayer. He’s not a man in a hurry and will make you long for a simpler lifestyle if life has become too cluttered. His relationship, and unlikely romance, with Lila, is sweetly told, but the triangle of the men, John, his old friend Robert, and Robert’s wayward and unpredictable son, Jack, is full of mature love, kindness, failures, sadness, and tension.

Marilynne Robinson somehow has woven into this book, set in a small town with very few characters, and the two statesmanlike characters closing in on death, a telling commentary on aspects of American society in 1956 Iowa. This comes near the end of the novel and I, for one, found it completely arresting and moving. It took me by surprise and left a few tears running down my cheeks.

‘A masterpiece’. Yes. 280 pages. Paperback. Recommended.

Book Review: Forty Farms, Amy Bateman

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐅𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬: beautiful photographs from forty Lake District farms, inspiring writing – all the farms are transitioning from high dependence on agrochemicals and antibiotics and towards working with the environment, there are maps – I do like a map.

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐅𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬: do not misread Forty Farms as Farty Farms. Don’t do it.

336 pages of sheer delight, it’s informative, honest, inter-generational, beautifully put together hard back a blend of gorgeous photographs taken by the author, Amy Bateman, and text, maps, inserts and a helpful glossary for those like me who drive past farms and know next to nothing about farming.

I’m also a chemist and love the ingenuity of science and how fertilisers, pesticides, vaccines, and antibiotics have transformed yield, health, and productivity. But…and there are increasingly some very big buts – if the soil and the general environment are abused disaster looms.

So, farmers, like many in society at large, are involved in a re-think and the stories from these forty farms have given me fresh hope that we’re not slithering down an agrochemical slurry into an inevitable arms race with the environment, pests, diseases whilst the world starves, and that a return to a sustainable agricultural model is not only possible but underway.

ISBN: 978-1-915513-01-4

𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞: £𝟐𝟗.𝟗𝟎...𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐗𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭?

My website/blog www.unlessaseed.com has had an MOT and service and is ready to hit the road once again with some improvements

Hello!

My website/blog www.unlessaseed.com has had an MOT and service and is ready to hit the road once again with some improvements:

1. Subscribing enables you – free of charge of course - to receive regular updates via your email as articles and blogs are posted

2. Navigating from page to page, blog to blog far quicker and slicker

3. Pages: (i) What is a Christian? (ii) Book/Film/Podcast Reviews, (iii) Poetry, and (iv) Everything Else continue as before but with more focus on the ‘unless a seed’ reference (John 12v24) as a message for the here and now.

4. Writing – currently editing/re-writing an historical novel set in 1799, a children’s book set in a land further than far away…and an accumulation of poems.

5. Links – links to other sites that have caught my eye such as daughter Rachel Stevens’ podcast Believingin interviewing a wide range of friends, colleagues, family members about their beliefs…a cocktail of Christians, Muslims, Atheists…with Rachel’s twist of Christian lemon.

But mostly, I hope that you will at least test-drive the blog, enjoy the content, subscribe, and leave comments!

A quick note about Facebook. Links to www.unlessaseed.com blog posts, poems, and so on, will mainly be made, not on my personal FB account, but on my Christian Writer page: Facebook

And lastly…apologies if you’ve received this message from various sources (email/FB/blog) and are feeling nagged. If so, rather than grumble, please make contact and there’s a pint, coffee and cake, or a glass of wine waiting for you as an apology.

Hope to find you at some point here on www.unlessaseed.com

John

Rachel Stevens’ Interview podcast

Rachel Stevens’ Interview podcast - a proud plug! https://believingin.buzzsprout.com is a must. Daughter Rachel interviews friends, work colleagues, and family members about their beliefs, and about love and purpose. Thus far guests have included Muslims, Atheists, and fellow Christians.

It’s a lively, fun, and serious mix of responses to some set questions…and Rachel gets to add to this cocktail with her own twist of Christian lemon.

Dad’s a fan - biased of course but it’s make your own mind up time!!

Film Review - Indiana Jones, Dial of Destiny

Strap yourself in and enjoy the ride!

A hugely enjoyable film, if quite lengthy. An orgy of chases, intrigue, Nazis, gun-fights, understated humour…the whip, the explorer’s wide-brimmed hat…and Harrison Ford at his AI-enhanced best.

If you’re in the mood for fictional fun…cash in your Oppenheimer ticket and plump for Dial of Destiny.

If this is Indiana Jones's final imprint on our craving to do the impossible and overcome the ravages of time – and time itself – then so be it. But Indiana Jones hasn’t bowed out gracefully, he’s still believable and possesses a level of violence, will, and youthfulness of a much younger explorer. He’s gone out still swinging that whip and makes an appearance as a cranky old man at the same time.

Locations: Morocco, Sicily, London, New York, Germany

Archimedes, b, 287BC, from Syracuse, Sicily, the great inventor and mathematician is a constant presence throughout the film.

Cast includes Phoebe Waller-Bridge (Fleabag) as Helena Shaw; Toby Jones (Tinker Taylor, Soldier, Spy - and Detectorists) as Basil Shaw, and John Rhys-Davies (Raiders of the Lost Ark and as Gimli in Lord of the Rings).

Finally, if you have an abiding affection for impossibly narrow and people-littered back-street car and tuk-tuk chases, Dial of Destiny will not disappoint.

If you’re in the mood for some fictional fun rather than telling historical drama, cash in your Oppenheimer ticket and plump for Dial of Destiny.

Book Review: Act of Oblivion, Robert Harris

This an exciting book to read now that we’re settling into the reign of Charles III.

The previous two King Charles were controversial. Oliver Cromwell and a collection of Parliamentarians signed the death warrant of Charles I, who was beheaded in Whitehall on Saturday 30th January 1649.

When Charles II was restored to the throne in May 1660, he wasted no time agreeing to the Privy Council’s demand that those who had signed the death warrant – the ‘regicides’ – should be hunted down and executed.

The Act of Oblivion passed by Parliament in 1660, pardoned all except the regicides.

Robert Harris’ book traces the chase between Richard Nayler, a member of the Privy Council, and two regicides, Colonels Whalley and Goffe as they sought refuge in America, in New England.

The book is an historical fiction, a gripping read, that will take you into the convictions that divided England at the time, and the reality of the early settlers and New England colonies who were fiercely Protestant and republican by nature and yet ruled over by King Charles III, our relations with the Dutch, and with native Indians in New England.

Robert Harris’ book traces the chase between Richard Nayler, a member of the Privy Council, and two regicides, Colonels Whalley and Goffe as they sought refuge in America, in New England

It’s a page-turner with a helpful cast list at the front full of historical figures. Only two characters are fully fictional. Harris keeps close to the actual events and those who acted out the twists and turns of the Civil War and its after-effects.

Podcast Review: How to Fail with All Black Dan Carter

How to Fail is an excellent podcast. Elizabeth Day interviews individuals well-known for their success and achievements in a wide range of human endeavours: media, writing, sport, technology…

This morning I got myself organised for a longish early morning walk through Blaise to Kingsweston to start the day. It’s a lovely route, approximately 10K, avoiding cars and, early in the morning, all but a few dog walkers. Ideal to listen to a podcast.

 I had intended to listen to Unlocking the Bible, an excellent podcast of the late David Pawson’s series of introductory talks on every book in the bible, but the bottom of my iPhone screen was scrolling ‘How to Fail with Dan Carter’, and that was that.

 The title of the podcast, of course, gives the game away…the guests talk about three failures they have experienced and how they have reacted to failure. Dan Carter’s account of his early childhood rugby ambitions, how they went off track, how he dealt with injuries and disappointments, and how that has affected his attitude to life after retiring from playing rugby is well worth a listen.

 As is the podcast How to Fail generally.

Book Review: Hannah Coulter by Wendell Berry

If you’re looking for a novel that captures a sense of true community – and contentedness in a way of life – but without sentimentality, utopianism, or undue reserve, Hannah Coulter may fit the bill.

Set in the fictitious farming community of Port William, a small town in Kentucky, from 1940, through the Second World War, to the turn of the 21st Century, the novel revolves around the loves and losses of Hannah Coulter from her youth to her late seventies. As the narrator, she tells the story of her family and romantic life through the post-War decades as farming and much else in American society changes around her.

Initially, not having read any of his other books, I didn’t realise that Wendell Berry, the author, is male.

If you’re reading this, you’ll almost certainly know that (a) I also have a Y chromosome and (b) I’m attempting to write an historical fiction novel. But the realisation that a ‘he’ was writing from a female perspective – and doing so so convincingly, was definitely one of those ‘tipping my hat’ moments to an author who knows exactly what he doing – a master of his craft.

(If you read Hannah Coulter, you’ll reach page 71, ‘We were looking at each other…’. You may think differently but surely this is an authentic woman’s voice?)

Wendell Berry is drawn into imagining Hannah’s thoughts as an older woman and catches her reminiscing, putting her thoughts into words. For example, when thinking about the shared mentality of the farming community around Port William she says:

‘Members of Port William aren’t trying to “get someplace”.

They think they are someplace.’

In two small sentences, Wendell Berry’s message: that it’s people, not what people are doing and achieving, that have true value, comes to the surface.

The cast includes Hannah Coulter (née Steadman), Virgil Feltner, Nathan Coulter, Danny Branch, Will Branch, and Wheeler Catlett

186 Pages, Counterpoint

Book Review: Jane Eyre, Charlotte Brontë

Why, you may well ask, am I writing a book review for such a well-known and well-read book?

Spoiler alert: I suggest you read Jane Eyre before finding out too much in this blog!

First and foremost, to counter Elizabeth Rigby’s ludicrous criticism that Jane Eyre is an ‘anti-Christian’ novel. Criticism which, ironically, sheds a great deal of light on moribund Christianity in England that has suppressed true faith in England for centuries…bound up as it often is in formal, cold, religious traditions so unlike the Jesus of the gospels leaving many in Britain and the West generally, admiring Jesus but not church.

Brontë sets about uprooting false notions about Christianity in three key relationships, firstly exposing the cruel hypocrisy of Mr Brocklehurst, Jane Eyre’s headmaster at Lowood, who abuses his authority using scripture merely to control pupils whilst feathering his own nest, then with Helen Burns, Jane Eyre’s friend, and, finally, the off-course cleric, St John Rivers.

When Brocklehurst challenges Jane about her behaviour and how it could lead her to hell, he asks ‘What must you do to avoid it?’ Jane’s reply, dripping with sarcasm, is ‘I must keep in good health and not die’. Wonderful.

Later Jane finds her first true friend in a girl of the same age, Helen Burns, and, whilst she learns a great deal about faith in Christ from Helen, is critical of her passivity in the face of injustice. Helen, by contrast to Mr Brocklehurst, has her eyes firmly fixed on heaven: ‘God waits only for the separation of spirit from flesh to crown us with a full reward’ or, ‘I can resign my immortal part to God without any misgiving, God is my father…I love Him, I believe He loves me’.

What I particularly like about how Brontë presents Jane at this young age, maybe fourteen, is that she is full of questions, she is open, and exploring…her faith is not fully formed. For example she asks Helen, ‘You are sure, then, Helen, that there is such a place as Heaven?’

Far from being an anti-Christian novel, this is an honest account of a fictional character maturing physically, mentally, and spiritually.

Later, after the marriage to Rochester is prevented and she leaves Thornfield, Brontë confronts Jane with yet another dissatisfying version of the Christian faith in St John Rivers, a man so dedicated to service as a Missionary that he completely misses God’s plan, to bless him emotionally and romantically with forming a relationship with the beautiful Miss Oliver, beautiful not only in appearance but in her character.

Jane extricates herself from St John’s demands and his alarming proposal for marriage, with customary straight-talking, ‘O! I will give my heart to God. You do not want it!’

A reply that also reveals that her faith in God is more solid, confirmed later as she prays later prior to her final journey from St John back to Rochester, now at Ferndean:

‘I fell on my knees; and prayed in my way – a different way to St John’s, but effective in its own fashion. I seemed to penetrate very near a Mighty Spirit, and my soul rushed out in gratitude at His feet.’

Personally, I do not know of a sentence that describes true Christianity any more accurately.

As St Paul wrote ‘the sons of God are led by the Spirit of God’.

Brontë has demolished the hypocrisy of Brocklehurst, steered clear of the undue passivity of dear Helen Burns, and, in her rejection of St John, correctly distinguishes between dry duty demanded by cold formal religion and the fire and relationship of the true Christian faith.

By the time Jane Eyre is returned to Rochester her faith is more or less complete, she is spiritually mature and at ease with life, love, and marriage. She readily submits herself to Rochester as her husband having no fear that her individuality is under threat any more than Rochester is afraid of being dominated by a woman of independent means.

This is anything but ‘anti-Christian’.

Brontë has deposited a novel into the mix whose climax in the marriage between Jane and Rochester has more to say about the relationship between Christ and an individual than the journalist-critic Elizabeth Rigby could see.

Jane Eyre, Charlotte Brontë: 1847

Elizabeth Rigby’s criticism: 1848

When the Rabbis Cry

https://www.amazon.co.uk/When-Rabbis-Cry-John-Stevens/dp/1512753750

I self-published this book through the auspices of Westbow Press in 2016. I can’t really write a book review for my own book, but suffice to say that the blurb on the cover was written by a Westbow editor, not me, and it will do as a good introduction to the contents of the book:

When the Rabbis Cry is the result of research into the Yemeni Jews and wider issues surrounding God’s purpose with Israel. The book considers the intriguing history of the Jews and of the nation of Israel after Jesus’ time and explores how we should view the regathering of the Jews to the modern State of Israel from a biblical perspective. What we find is a story within a story. An Israel within Israel where God is at work bringing salvation and reconciliation between Jews and Palestinians in a remarkable way.

Of course, I hope you will buy the book and enjoy reading!

I have a few copies with me so I can reduce the price to £5.00 plus p&p (approx $6.00) if you wish to contact me directly by email unlessaseed28@gmail.com

Book Review: Falling Upward by Richard Rohr

Introduction

Richard Rohr, a Franciscan Priest, and author, popular with Catholics and Protestants alike, spreads before us, in Falling Upward, a way of looking at true maturity, spiritual maturity, and how it can be embraced or resisted. He divides the span of human life into two halves: the first, the domain of younger men and women attempting to make a mark in the world, and the second half of life as a journey of increasing contentment brought about, ironically, through weakness and failure. Hence ‘falling upward’. The only way up is down.

My context

I’ve had this notion, maybe imaginary, from conversion to Christ onwards that God will bring certain books along at the right time. I would put Falling Upward in that category. It’s not as if I hadn’t heard of Richard Rohr – a friend I hadn’t seen for a few years visited out of the blue a few weeks ago and mentioned Richard Rohr, others in Wales who use the Enneagram to understand how individuals tick, and others over the past ten or so years have recommended Rohr. As often is the case, I’m late to the feast. The nail in the coffin came, as many good things do on my spiritual journey, sharing a pint at a local pub and discussing how the world works with PS, once we’d swapped vital family news, football, travel, and news from the world of work.

In recent weeks I’ve had the growing sense that in some ways I have packed my bags. I’ve written about this in a blog: Postcards from Abram where Abram has set out from Haran for Canaan in response to the call of God. In the early pages of Falling Upward, in fact the opening sentence, I found the same sentiment expressed: ‘A journey into the second half of our own lives awaits us all. Not everyone goes there, even though all of us get older.’

Green Pen

I read some books with a green pen in hand, making notes, ticks, underlining maybe, and placing references to important pages on some white space near the title page. I made 11 references for Falling Upwards, and six of these will form the basis of this review.

xxvi – ‘It is no surprise that…we speak of ‘falling’ in love. I think it is the only way to get there. None would go freely, if we knew ahead of time what love is going to ask of us…great love is always a discovery, a revelation…a falling into ‘something’ much bigger and deeper…beyond us and larger than us’

Rohr doesn’t disclose his own experience of this love, or his lack of it. Inevitably one wonders, since he is a Franciscan priest, and as such has forsworn romantic love. Nevertheless, he writes with understanding on this point, and, of course, the ‘love’ to which he is referring need not be limited to romantic love. His point is that to allow oneself to love another requires ‘faith’ – there are no guarantees; the only thing that is certain is that not taking that leap of faith with others cuts us off from any experience of love, it will always remain out of reach.

P12 ‘Theologically and objectively speaking we are already in union with God’

O dear. This was my first red flag. We have two immense words: theology and objectivity, as near neighbours placed in one sentence, plunged as it were into the magician’s hat, and out comes an extraordinary rabbit – union with God. Rohr, if nothing else, is an entertainer. I wonder what Rohr would make of the following New Testament passages which suggest the opposite: union is possible, and made available through Christ, but not automatically conferred. Like love, to experience it requires a leap of faith:

‘The true light (Christ) gives to every man who comes into the world…He came to His own but His own did not receive Him, but as many as received Him, to them He gave the right to become children of God, to those who believe in His name’ John 1 v 9-12

‘Remember…you without Christ…having no hope and without God in the world but now In Christ you who were once far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ’ Eph 2v11-13

P36 ‘Very few Christians have been taught live both law and freedom at the same time’

This statement fits quite well with his overall observation of the negative effect on children (and therefore our first half of life) if we’re not given at least some structure (or law) to butt up against by, hopefully, loving authority figures such as parents or teachers. This is quite a complex but well-written argument. However, the radical nature of the gospel, once accepted, is that we are ‘not under law but under grace’ Romans 6 v 14. Paul’s letter to the Galatians expands on this even further. As Jesus stated: ‘Freely you have received freely give’. Grace means freely given. It feels like he thinks grace will be insufficient and that a good dose of law, or Jordan Petersen perhaps, is still needed for a Christian to live.

P49 Rohr quotes from Isaiah 38 ‘In the noontime of my life, I was told to depart for the gates of Hades, surely I am deprived of the rest on my years’ The ‘second half of life’ journey is open to those, he is saying, who willing to surrender everything that brought success and illusions of grandeur in the first half, and to embrace the priority of soul over external achievement. It seems a little trite simply to say Christ walked this path perfectly, but He did. All the miracles, crowds, and teaching were put to one side as He entered Jerusalem and the Garden of Gethsemany. He was reduced to: ‘Take this cup from me, nevertheless…not My will but Yours be done’ He was arrested, crucified, died, buried, and descended into hell. And then was raised. This is the hope, Rohr contends, of the second phase of life to be raised by falling upward. An excellent passage.

P86 This quote more or less follows on seamlessly from p49

‘The surrendering of our false-self…is the necessary suffering needed to find the ‘pearl of great price’ that is always hidden inside this lovely but passing shell’

This appeals to my sense of poetry rather than theology. The ‘false-self’ idea presupposes that our ‘true-self’ has always existed potentially inside us. He quotes Zen masters to make the point: ‘the face you had before you were born’. I think of Heather Small’s song with M People ‘You've got to search for the hero inside yourself, search for the secrets you hide, search for the hero inside yourself, until you find the key to your life’

This feels like a contradiction to God’s perspective on the human condition as prophesied by Ezekiel and Jeremiah.

‘I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you; I will take the heart of stone out of your flesh and give you a heart of flesh. I will put My Spirit within you and cause you to walk in My statutes…’ Ez 36 v 26,27

It looks to me as if the pearl of great price has been made available to us through Christ but that we must ‘surrender’ all our hopeless attempts to produce it from within – that is ‘repentance’ – and receive this free gift of heart surgery to remove our hearts of stone and receive a new heart, gratis. (Note to self: order Annie Dillard’s ‘Teaching a stone to talk’ – quoted on p53. That’s the beauty of poetry, in one sentence capturing the essence of a thing by contradicting its reality, welcome to Paradox).

P68 I’ve put this quote out of sequence as the thinking contained in the quote from p86 follows on smoothly from p49.

‘Many Christians even made the cross into a mechanical “substitutionary atonement theory’ to fit into their quid pro quo worldview…’

This was one of Rohr’s least satisfactory passages. In order to tear down ‘substitutionary atonement’ he associates the substitutionary sacrifice of Christ with a world view that proponents of substitutionary sacrifice do not ascribe to, namely a ‘quid pro quo world view’. To brush aside substitutionary atonement may raise one evangelical eyebrow. Sadly the other is also raised when no thought-through alternative is offered in its place. It's one thing for a waiter to remove a bowl of cold soup, but not to return with another steaming away in its place is hardly satisfying. Come on Rohr, nail your atonement colours to the mast.

Favourite sentence

Part of Teiresias’s prophecy to Odysseus: ‘Your oar must become a winnowing shovel…you must fix the oar in the ground’

Conclusions

The acid tests are: (i) did I enjoy reading the book? and (ii) would I recommend it to others?

Despite my real concerns with his theology, yes, I enjoyed the book immensely. Whilst I may disagree over some fundamental theological issues, he is writing in an area of our human experience that is sorely needed. Who else out there is making sense of ‘life’? Shakespeare may have seven phases of life, but the simplicity of Rohr’s ‘two halves of life’ is as instructive as it is appealing. It sheds far more light than heat, provided you are willing to jettison your theological spacesuit and don one made of story-telling poetry. Would I recommend it? Yes. And I’ll need to re-read it at some point. He has a way with words; It’s richly written. You’ll be introduced to various cultures, poets, writers, and philosophers en route that you may not have explored before. Go and buy a copy, especially if you’re beginning to realise that the failures and difficulties you may have experienced in life might just prove to be stepping-stones for the future.

Book Review: The Magnificent Moustache & Other Stories

When I read through the five stories, I asked myself ‘Would I have read these to my children when they were younger?’ And the answer is a resounding Yes!

Many of the very old children’s stories allow the child to escape into worlds unlike their own such as Cinderella meeting and marrying a Prince, these stories also. The setting for two of the stories, Tea’s the Thing, and The King and i, is in the Royal Family and The Magnificent Moustache, for example, has a 7th Viscount and Lords and Ladies as principal characters. And we meet a Welsh Dragon in the final tale.

Each story contains an entertaining mix of humour, tension, and happy resolution – perfect for a bedtime story – and, for the intended age range, could be read by the child in one sitting. The language is accessible but also introduces the reader to a few unfamiliar words, such as indiscriminately, elixir, and propagating so the collection doesn’t play too safe.

The imaginative content of each story is matched by vivid descriptions, but you never feel bogged down in unnecessary detail, each tale is told at an engaging pace which is maintained from cover to cover.

Like all good stories, there are important messages tucked away as the plots unfold. Whether it’s that we can escape ruts we fall into, gently ridicule the ridiculousness of life, make a fresh start after a tragedy, or overcome bad habits, each story conveys its core moral purpose very well without being preachy.

If I was to pick a favourite scene it would be the Queen’s butler, Jeffries, as he ‘bowed and exited as calmly as he could. Once out of the room, he sprinted back along the corridor and slid down the bannisters at alarming speed – a thing he hadn’t contemplated for over twenty years – saving every spare second in order to see how the tea blending experiment was going in the kitchen.’

In one paragraph everything is turned upside-down. The adult becomes a child, sprinting and sliding down the banisters. The cool-headed butler is flustered and panicking, and the Royal kitchen is given over entirely on a fruitless mission to blend a perfect cup of tea for Her Majesty rather than preparing a feast. Finally, an unpredictable twist saves the day, leaving the Queen as unruffled as all Queens should be. Brilliant.

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The Magnificent Moustache and other stories

Available as an e-book or as a paperback.

Purchase on Amazon or order at all good bookshops.

Signed copies are available from Jenny Sanders directly for £9 +p&p and you can message her via her social media accounts below:

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Also, please visit Jenny’s blog

Dancing Through Chaos

When the Rabbis Cry

Failing to follow the general rule of thumb, ‘start small and build from there I decided for my first attempt to write a Christian paperback, to choose one of the most contentious subjects – Israel. Having done so, I learned a great deal about the doctrinal controversies and historical assumptions that Christians have been subjected to over the centuries. ‘When the Rabbis Cry’ is an attempt to do justice to the biblical arguments, but, at the same time, keep a firm footing in the history of Israel and the Jews from the time of Christ to the present day. It may surprise readers to know, for example, that there are more churches full of Jewish and Arab believers in Israel today in 2022 than at any time in history. If that whets your appetite please go ahead and buy a copy!

Buy When the Rabbis Cry here