THE SHACK
i believe i cried five times. the author of this book understands so well, and perhaps shares in, my own experience of God and Jesus and the Holy Spirit - explaining even, some aspects which i hadn't put forth the effort to articulate. and i learned so much from this story. so much.
i believe i even know well how the character, Willie, must've felt upon receiving a greeting from God. if i were asked to pinpoint the moment when i began to hear God speak again - the moment when i became aware of a yearning that i didn't know i had, i would assuredly reply that it was the time when He spoke to me through one of His other precious children, just as Mack did for Willie.
one day, for no particular reason, i found myself saying to a friend who was on his way to church, 'say hello to God for me.' my friend said he would. upon his return, i asked, partly in jest, 'so, what did God have to say?' to which my dear friend reported, 'you've been away from me for far too long.' my life was not what it was, or ever would be, from that moment onward.
there is nothing that erases my fears as swiftly and completely and lovingly as that which is made possible by my faith and trust and relationship in God. there is nothing as freeing as being free to love. and to have Jesus as my Light, and the Holy Spirit as my guide, ever-present in my very own verb of 're-turning'... well... i am filled with awe, humility, and wonder.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Wednesday, May 06, 2009
FOUCAULT'S PENDULUM
i'm about 167 pages in. started this book eons ago but couldn't get through the first chapter, even. i found it pretentious (and over my head!) but now i'm plugging along. this book was first published in 1988. appears to be a precursor to the 2003 novel, the da vinci code, by dan brown. hmm, i'll have to look into that. i've never read the book, but i saw the movie. =)
i'm about 167 pages in. started this book eons ago but couldn't get through the first chapter, even. i found it pretentious (and over my head!) but now i'm plugging along. this book was first published in 1988. appears to be a precursor to the 2003 novel, the da vinci code, by dan brown. hmm, i'll have to look into that. i've never read the book, but i saw the movie. =)
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Sunday, April 19, 2009
THE WHITE TIGER
i am so confused so i keep reading on.
there is something fascinating about how the main character entertains the notion of an apology, only to decide against it by punctuating his resolve with a fart.
update: 4/21/09
an old coworker once described mumbai as being filthy and crawling with men who have no regard for hygiene. pooping in the middle of the street and all that. imagine this being said by someone with an irish accent, too. and yes, he's irish so he didn't really say, 'pooping'. more like 'they just squat and take a sh*t in the middle of the f*cking street'. ya, it was something more along those lines. anyway, i masked my mortification by giggling like a loon. but let me take you further back...
you see, i spent years romanticizing india. i love the food, love the traditional garb. but i've never actually visited the country.
-i used to treat myself to bimonthly eyebrow threading and saturday brunches at indian restaurants on devon (indian strip in chicago).
-i bought myself two saris (which i never wore but used as window coverings instead, upon a clever suggestion from my sister.)
-i've read the bhagavad gita.
-one of my fondest memories is of a traditional indian wedding i got to attend, where one of my friends loaned me two of the most beautiful indian dresses i'd ever seen. some girl actually came up to me at the wedding and said, 'you're not even indian and you're the best dressed person here!' i was ecstatic. and the bonus was the giveaway wedding cd chock-ful of indian music to which i listen to this day.
-i even got a kick out of watching indian tv shows on a local cable channel when i was younger. my mom would get this puzzled look on her face when she'd catch a glimpse of what i was watching.
anyway, then i read this book called, days and nights in calcutta. it was written by a husband and wife - he an american, she indian. they had met in the US at graduate school. anyway, in that book, the husband described an india that was in complete contradiction with what i had envisioned. and i was devastated.
about a year after my initial disillusionment was when my irish coworker made those startling comments about mumbai. he had work responsibilities for the asia region of the pharmaceutical business and had to go on routine trips to our offices in mumbai. so he knew firsthand.
and now...this book - the white tiger - it is a work of fiction, but it talks of the same, dirty india that i struggle to accept. it is revolting how much spitting of paan on floors and streets and walls is described by the author. it is disheartening to read of nightly cockroach invasions, lingering stenches of old man feet, and copious scratching of crotches. i think i'm getting physically ill as i write this. anyway, that's really all for now. i'm just sad and disgusted.
update: 4/26/09
finished this book yesterday. um, ya. i was waiting and waiting and waiting for something. i don't know what, but i didn't find it. there are book club questions at the end. there is also an interview w/the author. both of which validated what i kind of thought the point of the story was. which served only to make the story that much more of a disappointment.
-----
below is what i posted as the discussion topic (including my own reply) for the book club. hopefully someone else will comment!
What kind of 'statement' do you think this author was trying to make (if any)? Did he succeed in supporting his main theme? If so, how?
Personally, I think it was no tour de force. I think that the author was trying to create a sense of moral conflict in the reader. But it didn't happen for me. I thought the 'big' dilemma was pretty black and white. No excuses for the crime he committed (he committed a couple of big ones but I don't want to be specific lest I spoil the story for those of you who haven't finished reading). It was so senseless. Not an ounce of empathy rose up in me.
I did briefly consider the potential bias I might have due to the fact that my early childhood was spent living in a society that employed somewhat similar social strata. Servants abound in the Philippines. My grandparents were rich, so I recall them having many servants - drivers, handyman, business supervisor, laundry woman, ironing woman, cook... Some of these servants (as with the servants described in this book) performed various chores as needed, including standing next to the dining table during a meal, fanning a makeshift fly-swatter over the food. Even as a young child, I remember feeling uneasy about that particular chore (the fly-swatting). I guess somehow I knew it must've made those servants feel degraded.
So perhaps, ashamed as I am to admit it, my past experiences contributed to my lack of sympathy for the plight of Munna/Balram/Ashok. [Sidenote: That little bit of symbolism was actually cool. From having no name to a borrowed name, in the end, he never actually managed to attain freedom.]
i am so confused so i keep reading on.
there is something fascinating about how the main character entertains the notion of an apology, only to decide against it by punctuating his resolve with a fart.
update: 4/21/09
an old coworker once described mumbai as being filthy and crawling with men who have no regard for hygiene. pooping in the middle of the street and all that. imagine this being said by someone with an irish accent, too. and yes, he's irish so he didn't really say, 'pooping'. more like 'they just squat and take a sh*t in the middle of the f*cking street'. ya, it was something more along those lines. anyway, i masked my mortification by giggling like a loon. but let me take you further back...
you see, i spent years romanticizing india. i love the food, love the traditional garb. but i've never actually visited the country.
-i used to treat myself to bimonthly eyebrow threading and saturday brunches at indian restaurants on devon (indian strip in chicago).
-i bought myself two saris (which i never wore but used as window coverings instead, upon a clever suggestion from my sister.)
-i've read the bhagavad gita.
-one of my fondest memories is of a traditional indian wedding i got to attend, where one of my friends loaned me two of the most beautiful indian dresses i'd ever seen. some girl actually came up to me at the wedding and said, 'you're not even indian and you're the best dressed person here!' i was ecstatic. and the bonus was the giveaway wedding cd chock-ful of indian music to which i listen to this day.
-i even got a kick out of watching indian tv shows on a local cable channel when i was younger. my mom would get this puzzled look on her face when she'd catch a glimpse of what i was watching.
anyway, then i read this book called, days and nights in calcutta. it was written by a husband and wife - he an american, she indian. they had met in the US at graduate school. anyway, in that book, the husband described an india that was in complete contradiction with what i had envisioned. and i was devastated.
about a year after my initial disillusionment was when my irish coworker made those startling comments about mumbai. he had work responsibilities for the asia region of the pharmaceutical business and had to go on routine trips to our offices in mumbai. so he knew firsthand.
and now...this book - the white tiger - it is a work of fiction, but it talks of the same, dirty india that i struggle to accept. it is revolting how much spitting of paan on floors and streets and walls is described by the author. it is disheartening to read of nightly cockroach invasions, lingering stenches of old man feet, and copious scratching of crotches. i think i'm getting physically ill as i write this. anyway, that's really all for now. i'm just sad and disgusted.
update: 4/26/09
finished this book yesterday. um, ya. i was waiting and waiting and waiting for something. i don't know what, but i didn't find it. there are book club questions at the end. there is also an interview w/the author. both of which validated what i kind of thought the point of the story was. which served only to make the story that much more of a disappointment.
-----
below is what i posted as the discussion topic (including my own reply) for the book club. hopefully someone else will comment!
What kind of 'statement' do you think this author was trying to make (if any)? Did he succeed in supporting his main theme? If so, how?
Personally, I think it was no tour de force. I think that the author was trying to create a sense of moral conflict in the reader. But it didn't happen for me. I thought the 'big' dilemma was pretty black and white. No excuses for the crime he committed (he committed a couple of big ones but I don't want to be specific lest I spoil the story for those of you who haven't finished reading). It was so senseless. Not an ounce of empathy rose up in me.
I did briefly consider the potential bias I might have due to the fact that my early childhood was spent living in a society that employed somewhat similar social strata. Servants abound in the Philippines. My grandparents were rich, so I recall them having many servants - drivers, handyman, business supervisor, laundry woman, ironing woman, cook... Some of these servants (as with the servants described in this book) performed various chores as needed, including standing next to the dining table during a meal, fanning a makeshift fly-swatter over the food. Even as a young child, I remember feeling uneasy about that particular chore (the fly-swatting). I guess somehow I knew it must've made those servants feel degraded.
So perhaps, ashamed as I am to admit it, my past experiences contributed to my lack of sympathy for the plight of Munna/Balram/Ashok. [Sidenote: That little bit of symbolism was actually cool. From having no name to a borrowed name, in the end, he never actually managed to attain freedom.]
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