Summer has begun! Although I love being back in school (I’m one of those weirdos), there’s definitely something to be said for summer. I’ve had a lot more control over what research I want to work on, though never enough time with kids at home. In May, I also got to participate in a workshop of youth print culture at the Church History Library, which opened up my eyes to a lot of interesting resources from past eras. I love this “Bookish Corner for Bookish Girls” column from an early Church magazine and the title of this musical made me laugh.
At the end of May and into June, we went on an extended family trip to Disneyland, which was fun and exhausting. Then I made a quick turnaround to attend the Mormon History Association conference the next weekend. I’m still not sure whether this will get a separate summary post, but I am pleased to report there were at least three panels relevant to speculative fiction, which was an improvement from the last time I attended. My panel was nice and full and people asked very thoughtful questions. I came away from MHA with at least two new research projects to complete, so I consider that a win.
On the writing front, “Through the Wardrobe,” my piece for Wayfare Magazine on the Chronicles of Narnia and the LDS temple experience, is now available for free on their Substack. I’ve been getting a lot of great reactions to it, which makes me really happy since I worried it was too esoteric for anyone else to be interested in. I’ve also finished my paper on YA dystopias written by LDS authors, which I’ll be presenting next weekend at the AML Conference. I’m really excited about all of the other panels and presentations. The whole conference will stream live on the AML YouTube channel, so come learn about the history of Mormon writing for children and young adults.
Due to my co-host breaking his knee and moving to Utah, Pop Culture on the Apricot Tree has been on a bit of a hiatus, but we did release an episode on Dune at the end of May. Also, just last week, the Association for Mormon Letters announced we were a finalist for this year’s podcast award. The other finalists are also amazing, so I don’t know if we stand much chance of winning, but it’s an honor to be listed with them.
Speculative Fiction
Crossed by Ally Condie – I liked this a bit better than my first time reading it. The introduction of so many new characters makes it a bit more crowded than Matched, and tight plotting definitely isn’t a strength of this novel. However, I am intrigued by the use of “Crossing the Bar” as the controlling metaphor for this book. It’s interesting that the Pilot, who represents Christ or God in Tennyson’s poem, is associated with the leader of a rebellion out in red rock country. Are there LDS implications to this? Perhaps, though if I remember correctly, there are issues with reading the text this way given what happens in the final book. I think Ky and Cassia’s conflict could have been a bit improved by spending more time on the reasons Ky decides to stop hiding things from Cassia and let her have choices, but the outlines of it are there anyway.
Reached by Ally Condie – I had not previously read the conclusion to the trilogy because the whole sudden pandemic aspect of it sounded completely out of left field. Reading this book for the first time after Covid was an experience, let me tell you. Condie did a great job of predicting all the things that go wrong when trying to fight a disease in a fractured society. The final solution comes a bit too simply, but as a Latter-day Saint reviewer, the fact that sego lilies are the key to their survival is very conspicuous. Some of the dystopia world-building elements of this book absolutely don’t hold together, but that was never really the strong suit of this series. The mediations of the value of old art versus new art almost make up for it, but the neatly wrapped up ending with Xander finding another love interest kind of wrecks it for me. Overall, neither of the sequels is as strong as Matched itself, but it’s still a fun trilogy worth reading if only to slip some poetry to the younger generation.
The Maze Runner by James Dashner – I reread this with the intention to compare its perspective on memory with Ally Condie’s in Matched. While both books are dystopias, their takes on the genre are as opposite as it is possible to be. Where Condie is lyrical, quiet, and deep, Dashner is crude, action-oriented, and shallow. I remember being annoyed at this book when I first read it because it takes the same narrative approach as Lost in opening many intriguing questions but showing no sign of answering them. I’m also not typically someone to throw around accusations of homophobia, but the growing friendship between Thomas and Chuck seems to largely revolve around denying any physical affection and reinforcing their masculinity. It was very weird. Anyway, I’m probably just not the target audience for this book, since it’s obviously had a lot of success. (For what it’s worth, my 15yo son is currently devouring the sequel trilogy.)
Inferno: A Norton Critical Edition by Dante Alighieri, Michael Palma (Translator), Giuseppe Mazzotta (Editor) – (Yes, I’m putting this in the speculative fiction section; deal with it.) This summer I’m participating in a class-that’s-not-a-class (really a book group of friends who just happen to be smart academics) about epic poetry, specifically studying how the classical epic poetry tradition has been adapted by Christian authors (and later how Mormon authors have tried to do the same). Our first step was reading some excerpts from the Iliad, Odyssey, and Aeneid, then we jumped straight into Dante. I found Dante to overall be enjoyable. Granted, there are many, many references to Italian politics which I allowed to flow right past me. I did find it interesting how so many different purposes seem to converge in one poem. Dante seems to be using just one poem to: bash his political rivals and enemies; warn against church corruption; struggle with his own salvation and foibles; build up his own poetic reputation; and wrestle with the difficulties of writing a poetry that’s truly Christian. No wonder this piece has been talked about for so long!
I mostly read the Norton Critical edition, but at Michael Austin’s suggestion, I also read Dorothy Sayers’s footnotes for each canto. The difference between the two seemed to be largely one of attitude: the Norton footnotes are taking a neutral, scholarly tone whereas Sayers approaches the poem as a believer for whom the concepts of sin and judgement have eternal weight. Reading her footnotes encouraged me to read this poem not just as a work of literature but as a work of devotion. While I don’t entirely agree with Dante’s views (after all, Mormons don’t believe in hell, per se), I gained a lot from thinking about how our behavior shapes our character in ways that become their own punishment. That being said, I did read some of the critical material included in the Norton edition and found it to be useful in understanding how people have thought about certain moments in the poem. Highly recommend.
When the Angels Left the Old Country by Sacha Lamb – I decided to pick a couple of past finalists from the Mythopoeic Fantasy awards to have a selection of books to listen to while traveling. This one is the one that struck my fancy at the time, and it was absolutely better than I expected. I’ve been describing it to others as Good Omens if it was written by someone who actually liked religion. The basic plot is that an angel and a demon from a small Jewish town follow some of the town’s young people as they emigrate to America. There are corrupt officials and factory bosses, problems at Ellis Island, and a haunting or two. I wish I knew more about Jewish traditions about angels and demons because the folklore in the book is so well done that I couldn’t tell what the author made up and what might be authentic. I’m sure the convincing nature of the folklore is what won this book the Mythopoeic Award. I’m dying to go out and learn more after reading this book.
Fiction
The Unwedding by Ally Condie – I heard a reading from this book when Ally visited BYU. I put it on hold instantly, and it did not disappoint! The book is a really interesting combination of a locked room (or in this case, locked resort) mystery with a more intimate and personal book about recovering from a surprise divorce. Like most mystery books, I found myself struggling to keep track of characters in the first half, but I’m sure this is my own shortcoming as a reader. Ellery, the main character, is heavily implied to be LDS–she grew up in southern Utah, she married young, and she doesn’t drink or have any knowledge of drinking culture. I think if you know this, then the novel becomes even more poignant, knowing how central marriage is to not only LDS culture but LDS theology.
I have read that the key to making a good detective character is to have a specific way that they solve crimes. Condie has a really unique resonance here where the method of solving the case also corresponds to Ellery’s personal anguish: because she is newly alone, she notices the interactions between other people. It really makes this book sing. The final solution to the mystery reveals a few more Mormon-adjacent characters, which was an interesting surprise. Overall, I’m really impressed by Condie’s first adult novel, and highly recommend picking it up.
Remarkably Bright Creatures by Shelby Van Pelt – A delightful, light fiction book. I enjoyed the octopus character, though it’s not as in depth as those in Children of Ruin. He provides some good commentary on humanity and life, as well as key plot moments. Though so much of the plot of the book could be resolved by people just sharing the information that they have, for some reason it didn’t feel frustrating. The point of this book isn’t the plot but the characters and watching them change. The only real surprise for me was when Cameron had a certain long-awaited meeting. I expected it to be much more harsh and devastating, but like everything else in the book, it goes as amazingly well as possible though very different than you expect. Overall, this book is a cozy read that breaks many typical fiction rules and yet comes out on top. A great summer read that really captures the feel of the small-town Pacific Northwest.
Nonfiction
Becoming C. S. Lewis: A Biography of Young Jack Lewis by Harry Lee Poe – I had read that Poe’s trilogy of biographies set a new standard for scholarship on Lewis, so I picked up all three on an Audible sale. Now that I’ve finally gotten through the first volume, I have to agree that these books are magnificent works. Because of the greater length, Poe has time to slow down and really dig into the details of Lewis’s life. His coverage of Lewis’s school life was especially illuminating of several problems that bothered me. And I’m glad he didn’t shy away from the difficult questions. Where there is a lack of evidence, Poe explains how various scholars have interpreted that part of Lewis’s life and then gives surrounding cultural context to make an educated guess as to what might have really happened. Overall, you get a good picture of the young atheist Lewis and see how much he was radically changed by his eventual conversion. I look forward to reading the other two volumes, though I may have to take a break for a bit as other books are more pressing at the moment.
Build the Life You Want: The Art and Science of Getting Happier by Arthur C. Brooks & Oprah Winfrey – I’ve read so many self-improvement books that I’m used to not getting a lot out of them other than a reiteration of principles I already know. Arthur Brooks managed to surprise me in several chapters with unique approaches to ideas.
First was his approach to faith as an integral part of life. He’s not afraid to say that being part of a religious tradition is positively correlated with happiness. While he does provide some secular alternatives, he’s very open about how positive the research about the impact of religion is. I also loved that he included women who choose to be homemakers as a part of the career chapter and in several other places. So many life-improvement books completely ignore anyone who doesn’t choose a traditional career, so it was refreshing to see Brooks actually addressing this audience.
Speaking of careers, I found his four models of career success to be very interesting. We tend to focus on career advancement as success, but he provides three other ways that a career can be a satisfying part of life without the goal of always achieving at the highest level possible. I need to read over this chapter again as I think more about my own career.
I also appreciated his incorporation of principles I first encountered in CBT. He focuses on learning how to cope with the situation you are in and make peace with it, rather than complain about the unfairness of life. His ideas for how to deal with family conflict are something I need to write down on a notecard and keep in my wallet for when I’m emotionally flooded and can’t be rational. Anyway, I sped through this book on audio for book club, but I definitely think it’s worth referring back to in a slower, more methodical way.
Breaking Bread with the Dead: A Reader’s Guide to a More Tranquil Mind by Alan Jacobs – I breezed through this justification for studying the humanities on audio and really enjoyed it. Obviously, I’m not the audience who needs to be convinced, but Jacobs does a great job of explaining why it’s important to know what “some dead white guy” said in the age of the 24-hour news cycle. His approach connects to what Cal Newport talks about in purposefully choosing to live a slower but more deep life by being careful about what media we consume. Jacobs furthers the argument by pointing out how the classics interface with what we might think of as “modern” problems. He also doesn’t ignore the problematic aspects of the classics; he shows how Fredrick Douglass’s writings challenge the hypocrisy of the founding fathers and how Ursula K LeGuin’s rewrite of a female character from Virgil helps our understanding evolve. The point is that both of these authors used long-form interaction with a text to correct it, rather than cancelling it or ignoring it. Overall, the argument is that reading old books isn’t ignoring modern problems; it’s possibly the best way to actually contextualize and engage with them.
How to Think: A Survival Guide for a World at Odds by Alan Jacobs – Yes, I’m on a bit of an Alan Jacobs kick, and this isn’t the last one on the list. This book presents a good synthesis of a bunch of my favorite sources about modern rhetoric and thinking. It’s got CS Lewis, Jonathan Haidt, Neil Postman, Daniel Kahneman, and many other thinkers. Jacobs lays out a good summary of the modern science of consciousness and social dynamics and why it means we can’t trust our own conclusions. He then uses this base to point out why slowing down, articulating our ideas in long form, and questioning the way we choose to articulate those ideas is vital for the continuing health of individuals and societies. I’m actually going to use this in my first-year writing course in the fall to talk about why we should bother learning to write in the age of AI and the rage machine that is the internet.
Disney’s Land: Walt Disney and the Invention of the Amusement Park That Changed the World by Richard Snow – I picked this up for my relevant travel read while at Disneyland. The beginning was more interesting than the end. The comparison to how amusement parks were when Walt Disney first came up with the idea for Disneyland really puts into perspective what an amazing accomplishment the park really is. I know it’s fashionable in academic circles to look down on Disneyland as a false reality and an intellectual dead-zone, but when you look back on it, what he tried to create was actually a work of art designed for families. That’s not to say that it hasn’t become a consumerism paradise since, but that’s not what Disney originally was going for. This book does a great job of showing where the vision came from in Walt’s past as well as how much it filled a gap in the existing entertainment space at the time.
The later parts of the book got a bit repetitive with telling the backstory of the development of each individual ride, though there are some amazing stories in there as well. The constant pull between the artistic and the economic is a tale as old as time. It’s also amazing to compare the absolute chaos of the opening period to the well-oiled machine of current Disney launches. If you’re going to Disneyland and want to have a greater appreciation for the park, this book is a good place to start.
The Narnian: The Life and Imagination of C. S. Lewis by Alan Jacobs -Being that this is the third or fourth biography of Lewis I’ve read, the plot beats of his life are starting to become familiar. However, I did appreciate Jacobs’s focus on the development of Lewis’s imagination and the patterns of his thought. While directly tying any part of an author’s fiction to their biography is out of fashion and can often be tenuous, there’s a reason that people continuously do it in spite of the scolding of literature professors, which is that it does, in some cases, tend to be absolutely true. Jacobs repeated returns to the Owen Barfield quote that “somehow what [Lewis] thought about everything was secretly present in what he thought about anything” as a frame for showing the interconnectedness of Lewis’s works and his life. I absolutely buy this case, and as someone who dabbles in many genres, I find it comforting to see through Lewis that I don’t have to choose just one; instead I can use one idea in multiple genres in multiple ways to really dig deep into a thought. All that being said, Jacobs’s book is short and, with its long digressions into Lewis’s fiction, has less detail than other Lewis biographies. That is intentional of course, but useful to know if you’re planning to pick up just one of the many books written about him.
A Preface to Paradise Lost by C.S. Lewis – Man, they don’t write literary criticism like this anymore. I take Lewis as the model for my own critical writing because he is so clear and comprehensible to a lay audience while not shying away from tackling tough and theoretical issues. I’m reading Paradise Lost this summer, and reading this book beforehand helped me appreciate both the difficulties and the beauties of the work.
Another observation: so much of both Paradise Lost and Lewis’s commentary on it seem to have been ported directly into the space trilogy, particularly Perelandra. Where Lewis isn’t imitating Paradise Lost, he’s reacting directly to some of the imperfections that he notes in this Preface. I should go see if anyone has already written about the relationship between the two books, because I’m sure I can’t be the first to notice this.
