New Book - Sneak Peak!

 

I have exciting news! I've been diligently working on my next book!

Back when I was in Oxford earlier this year, I had the great privilege of spending several weeks there, acquiring a Bodleian Reader card to work in the libraries every day. It was a dream come true, to put it mildly. I was overjoyed every day to get to swipe myself into one of the magnificent, ancient libraries of Oxford University, searching for books on the shelves, requesting books from the offsite storage, and viewing precious archive materials like manuscripts and letters from some of my all time favourite authors.

The reason? I wanted to write a book, a kind of group biography, of some of the Oxford authors - those authors from centuries past who have greatly influenced and inspired me. I wanted to explore what inspired them across space and time and how they might have influenced each other. Oxford the place plays a huge role in that. What did they read and study at Oxford? Where did they live and what were they thinking about? Did they know each other?

I spent weeks reading books and compiling research to help me answer these questions. I researched authors like C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien, Dorothy L. Sayers, Evelyn Waugh, Lewis Carroll, Gerard Manley Hopkins, Percy Bysshe Shelley and more.

A short section from my introduction:

We have the great benefit from our position in history to have such a backward-looking stance that we can go study the life and writings of someone like Robert Burton in the 1620s and then review those writings of C. S. Lewis in the 1930s and see how they interact and speak across time. Did anything that Lewis read in Burton’s The Anatomy of Melancholy influence his writings? Is it mentioned in his letters, notes, or other works? Does it matter when we engage with the writers and thinkers who have come before us? Is it somehow part of our foundation where we draw ideas from as we move through this journey of life?

This is what I explore in my book. 

I am currently working on the edits and formatting and as I work on these steps, I thought it'd be fun to share a few little bits and pieces here on the blog with you as I get closer and closer to releasing my book out into the world! So, please join along, and I hope you are as excited about this book as I am. Or at least, curious to learn more about these authors and what they were up to in Oxford!

Written on the Heart

 

Jeremiah 31. 31-40

One line from this passage:

I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts.

Our heart. It has a depth that reaches to our true, fullest self. The deepest place of who we truly are and how God sees us in our fullness. We cover up our heart, though, with selfish, inward looking stances that spiral down to self pity, falling farther into ourselves (closing in on ourselves). We diminish ourselves, becoming less and less ourself. The true self, the heart, it is made to expand outward. In the best ways it should thus expand so that others see our true self, as a reflection of God within us. But that is so rare. We are too busy and too caught up from past hurts that stick with us in ways we don't notice. We cover up our heart with worldly things, desires and hidden vices, behaviors, and deeds. We don't get to experience our heart, the hungry heart continues to feel starved and empty. So we show the facade - the world tells us what we need to show. So that layers onto ourselves to make us "happy". And it's not true. But we believe it because we no longer have access to our deepest parts. Everything is shallow, fleeting, and full of selfishness.

I am inspired by Saint Augustine and his writing reflecting on the heart as being the true deep self we so often cover up with selfish desires that spiral inward, specifically as he wrote about his journey in his Confessions, which is his conversion story, so beautifully written. I am exploring this more and more, and it's deeply enriching. 

A few lines from Saint Augustine: 

And you pricked the rawness of its wound, so that abandoning all else it should be converted to you, who are above all, and without whom nothing else would be, yes, converted to you and so find healing.

....

Then, Lord, little by little, with most gentle and merciful hand, you touched and quieted my heart, as I thought of the countless beliefs I held about things I could not see, nor had seen when they occurred.

....

Instantly at the end of the sentence, as if a light of confidence had been poured into my heart, all the darkness of my doubt fled away. 

Fog + Flight

 

Fog + Flight

Early morning fog and flight
Through darkness, in hidden sight
Of landscapes clouded, dewy sky
Envelopes all scenes, they pass by
Shrouded and still, still asleep
Tucked away softly in its keep
But I scatter the clouds from within
As my car zips through, leaving therein
No trace, just the dozy morning fog
Sleeping soundly upon lamp and log.

I recently took an early morning flight for a work trip, waking much earlier than I ever would, drinking a quick cup of coffee, and creeping with my suitcase downstairs to take to the road. Well before dawn was even peaking at the horizon, I was on my way to the airport,  accompanied by other early morning travelers and the surprise fog. The clouds were so low I was driving through them. It felt like another world, I couldn't help but smile at the misty cloud right above my head. Street lamps cast a mystical triangle glow forming shapes that are not usually there, right in the air around me.

Since I am not normally traveling to the airport at 5 am, though it was a very long day, I loved how the different time of day and the weather caused me to look at the world with fresh eyes, with wonder, and appreciation of the mysteriousness. I thought about how most people would never see the fog, it likely burned off as the sun came up. The fleeting nature of nature is something that causes me to pause and enjoy the ever-changing moment. The misty fog was just in that area for a few miles, then I drove out of it, out from under the mysterious canopy of ground cloud.

Hot Reads!

 

It's hot out there! Isn't it the perfect time of year to cosy up inside with a good book? Granted, I will say that about every season, but when the temperature is in the 90s and the feels like (with the humidity) is above 100 degrees, you just don't want to be out there. If you need a few ideas, here are some books I've read recently, which may spark your curiosity.

The Return of the King, J.R.R. Tolkien
A re-read for me. I feel I need to read The Lord of the Rings every couple years. The books speak different things into you each time you read them. This is the third book, the conclusion of the whole story, which really is one book. This is where the battles all come into fruition in the final risky scenario where everything stands on the edge of a knife. One stray move, and it all could crumble with evil reigning over all Middle-earth. Love and friendship is displayed in the deepest ways, humble serving, servant leadership, loyalty, eucatastrophe, and the defeat of evil.

Christian Reunion and Other Essays, C.S. Lewis
This is the only book that holds this essay "Christian Reunion", a rare essay written around 1944, but not published until this volume in 1990. It's a rare taste of Lewis discussing denominations and division in the church. He approaches the conflicts with such a thought provoking stance that doesn't alienate anyone, addressing it in a way that leaves you feeling hope for unity, not any negative feeling toward the other religious view. This is a great example of why Lewis is so cherished, though he tried to stay away from commentaries like this. Having this example is a treasure, and a very useful element of discovery for me in my new book I am working on (stay tuned!).

Lessons in Crime: Academic Mysteries, Martin Edwards (editor)
A collection of short stories, mostly fun with a little bit of gruesome, from the golden age of crime into the modern time, that circles around the world of academia. Loved having a short story by Dorothy L. Sayers and Arthur Conan Doyle included. A lot of murders happen in Oxford academia in the mystery book world. Be careful if you enter academia in a mystery novel, things will be dangerous, and probably a bit fun too.

History of a Six Weeks' Tour, Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley and Percy Bysshe Shelley
The youthful 16-21 year olds Mary and Percy travel with another friend Claire around Europe after it opened up to travel after the Napoleonic Wars. They see the ravage the wars caused but also the beauty of nature around France, Switzerland, Germany, and Holland. Through a shared journal and letters, we see their experiences surrounded by dramatic natural beauty, which influenced their writings. They go deep into mountains, venturing across lakes, and gazing at the waterfalls, gathering up their ideas and descriptions along the way. You can see the spark of what writings are to come from them, with Shelley's poetry, and Mary's Frankenstein. 

Life Time, Russell Foster
The importance of sleep we all know, but it's something too easy to neglect with our busy lives. This book studies how it affects our health and our mind (alertness and ability to focus). Reviewing how it's different across ages from infancy to elderly. It made me more diligent about going to bed earlier (which has been a goal of mine hence why I picked this up to read) and also waking up around the same time, and also not eating late. Simple changes that require a bit of diligence, but well worth it.

Celebrating with Fireworks

 

I don't see fireworks too often, but when they are right outside my window, I pull up a chair and enjoy the show. A fireworks show always draws crowds, even for a short 15 minute show. Why are fireworks used for celebrations? Do you ever wonder? 

John Adams wrote to his wife in July 1776 that “I am apt to believe that it will be celebrated, by succeeding Generations, as the great anniversary Festival…It ought to be solemnized with Pomp and Parade, with Shews, Games, Sports, Guns, Bells, Bonfires and Illuminations from one End of this Continent to the other from this Time forward forever more.”

The first organized celebration of Independence Day was July 4, 1777 in Philadelphia. This is also when the Declaration of Independence was adopted. That evening there was a special dinner held, 13 canons fired (for the 13 colonies), streamers, band performance, and military demonstration. The evening ended with fireworks. Boston was the first city to declare July 4 as a holiday in 1783. Congress made July 4 an official holiday in 1870. Eventually cannons were phased out (a bit dangerous) and fireworks became more readily available and used for the celebrations.

Perhaps the way that fireworks showcase a sense of awe and spectacle among people, usually accompanying some kind of celebration or gathering that we can all partake in together. It promotes a sense of unity when (especially in times of division) we can all enjoy a show of exciting blasts of exploding colors in the velvet sky, appreciating and celebrating the country we are blessed to live in. Whatever the views of each person, a thankfulness should fill each one for the freedoms and liberties that have been fought for (defended) by our own fellow citizens in difficult ways and across time. We would not be enjoying the freedoms we live now if not for many people who have sacrificed their lives for the country, and that's an ongoing thing. We should not take that for granted, but instead pray for the nation we are part of. May it uphold the values upon which it was founded.

Summer Morning

 

Oh that my word were done
As birds that soar
Rejoicing in the sun:
That when my time is run
And daylight too,
I so might rest once more
Cool with refreshing dew.

- Christina Rossetti

You wake up on a summer morning. It is still dark, but the sky is beginning to glow at the horizon. Warmth surrounds you and the humidity holds the air in its embrace, but you had a good, restful sleep.

Stretching out under a thin cover, you listen - - silence of the early morning is only penetrated by a bird across the street, chirping its pre-dawn call. You ponder the silence and let it calm you as your thoughts come out of a dream you now cannot recall. It faded seconds after you opened you eyes, shimmering for a moment as you hovered between the dream world and the waking reality.

Notions and recollections of the previous day might be starting to shift into your mind, but you hush them with a prayer of thanks - -

    Lord, thank you for this day

Recognizing the gift that a new day is, your mind begins to reflect on that. The temporal nature of our everyday warrants a response from you. Do you ignore the significance and keep trudging into the day to day activities without thought, or do you pause to recognize something beautiful or lovely that occurred, and give thanks to God for it. No matter how small. You might simply say - -

    Lord, thank you for the rain shower last night.  It restored the sunburnt soil. The air felt refreshed afterwards.

Nothing is too small (or too big) for God, and to be thankful for. In all honesty, do we reflect with prayers of thanks for the things we so easily do not take notice of? Turning over some thankful thoughts, lifting them in prayer before rising from the soft sheets, your heart is already set to a state of thankfulness - - ready to see and recognize all the reasons the morning is a gift and filled with beauty.

Now you rise and peak out the window - the glow of the dawn deepens and light casts aside the velvet sky. Soon you find yourself making tea or coffee and your mind leans into a little prayer - thankful for the hot drink to wake you and get you started for the day ahead. And you feel the possibilities of the day rise to meet you like the steam off your drink.

You begin to notice that the quiet of the morning stirs you into a deeper reflective state. Something in you wants to address that. Sitting at your desk or table you take a notebook and pen and linger over some pages of reflections sipping the tea or coffee as you go. Filling blank pages with your current words.

Nothing big or dramatic, but you notice how good it feels to let out some thoughts on paper. No matter how jumbled they might seem. Every page becomes a tale of a day, idea, creative notion - captured at a moment that is already gone by the time you finish the sentence. But now it lives on in the notebook. Its temporal nature as a thought becomes something lasting - you can re-visit sometime in the future.

That's the gift of notebooks and writing by hand. A tangible way to see your own handwriting, unique to you, and some ideas you may forget in a day, but could read again and feel inspired by. 

It's a lovely summer morning as you close the notebook. The sun is up and brightly casting the sunshine outside your windows. Until tomorrow...

Research Days, Stormy Nights

 

With summer heat upon us (as we reach the Summer Solstice), we get into the cycle of repeat weather. The nature of bright, sunny, hot mornings and days lead into the afternoons brewing menacing clouds and thunder - it's on constant rotation. A storm was swirl and build together over our heads and we don't even notice it. Sometimes the storm hovers just a few miles away, sitting there like an angry dog guarding something. I can hear it and see it lurking, but it sits just over the road (seemingly). But then it eventually crosses over the road and pours out the built up heat in the form of heavy rain. I take full advantage of the darkened stormy atmosphere by grabbing my current read (The Return of the King) and getting cosy in my armchair to enter the world of Middle-earth. Stormy weather warrants curling up with a book. 

Then, later in the evening as the sky clears a bit and the sun lowers nearer to the horizon, the sky is ablaze with fire from the sun. It's amazing how the dark and light contrast so dramatically in the sky. The dark is darker and the light is radiant. Glory to God for His creation.

I am still working my way through the huge book of Christina Rossetti poems, loving every page of it. This poem I read this week seemed oddly, aptly appropriate, titled "For one Sake":

One passed me like a flash of lightning by
To ring clear bells of heaven beyond the stars:
Then said I: Wars and rumours of your wars
Are dull with din of what and where and why;
My heart is where these troubles draw not nigh:
Let me alone till heaven burst its bars,
Break up its foundations, roll its flashing cars
Earthwards with fire to test and purify.
Let me alone tonight, and one night more
Of which I shall not count the eventide;
Its morrow will not be as days before:
Let me alone to dream, perhaps to weep;
To dream of her the imperishable bride,
Dream while I wake and dream on while I sleep.

While the heat rages endlessly outside, I sit at my desk reading and researching, working on my next book. I make tea or coffee, put on some instrumental music, and get focused and working. This atmosphere is conducive to thinking. I have nowhere I need to be, I will have time later to run an errand, but for now, I can completely focus. I get up and search my bookshelves for reference material. Today, I need to reference some of my Owen Barfield books. I quickly grab four of them, and plop them down on my desk to dig into. It gives me such joy to search my own bookshelves to find books to reference.

So onward I go, back into the books, waiting for the next storm to arrive later on. 

Summer Weather

 

Heat rises steeply, vertically, highly
Accumulating utmost height in the sky,
Swirling and festering clouds form
Not gentle, but heavy with storm
Winds beset, precede the clouds
A call to the indoor, safe haven now
Wild and fierce, relentless, no release
I wait for it to slow; it doesn't cease
Lightning flashed, its power too much
An otherworldly tap, with its milli-touch
And power is gone, overwhelmed by power
All I really wanted was a cooling rain shower
Not today, says the storm, my power is today,
But in a couple hours, the wind swept it away.

The wonder of weather during the summer months. Infused with heat and moisture are all the day. The morning awakens with clear blue hues, sun, and heavy air. As the hours progress the heat rises into the atmosphere and builds up in the formation of clouds. Sometimes a storm will develop and form right overhead, crashing suddenly onto the hot landscape. I peak out the window and see the wind blow and the rain falls in sheets. I watch in wonder and pull out a book to read - isn't that the natural thing to do to enjoy the atmosphere inside? The awe of creation fills me when weather acts like it was created to do. Until the power flickers out....but then it's all swept away and the atmosphere clears.

The heavens were made by the word of the Lord,
and all the stars, by the breath of his mouth.
He gathers the water of the sea into a heap,
he puts the depths into storehouses.
Let the whole earth fear the Lord;
let all the inhabitants of the world
stand in awe of him.
For he spoke, and it came into being;
he commanded, and it came into existence.
Psalm 33.6-9

Stack of Books

 

Current and recent bookstack. Some of the books I've read or currently reading now. It makes me so happy to have a little bookstack of good books. 

Alice's Oxford - People and Places that inspired Wonderland, Peter Hunt

Well this was fun. After coming back from Oxford, I was right back in Oxford, visiting all the places associated with Alice. There was a little bit of history about each place, and how it showed up in the Alice books - many of which I had not seen before. The author also included many of the Tenniel illustrations and insights how Oxford shows up in many of those scenes, such as the Queen of Hearts scene in the garden. In the drawing there appears in the background the Lily House of the Oxford Botanical Garden. The Botanic Garden might be where Alice met some of the flowers in Looking-Glass, who were rather philosophical.  

Loss and Gain, John Henry Newman

The story of Charles Reding, a young undergraduate at Oxford in the 1840s, who journeys through the tumultuous religious times in the Church of England, as liberal enlightenment ideology entered the church, the Oxford Movement rose against it, and Catholicism was deemed as antichristian. Charles navigates the deep discussions with his fellow undergraduates, his family, and elders. Written as a fictional autobiography by Newman, it is the story of his conversion.

At the beginning of the book:

"But how are we to arrive at truth at all", said Reding, "except by reason? It is the appointed method for guidance. Brutes go by instinct, men by reason."  

Sounds a bit like pre-conversion C.S. Lewis, doesn't it?

The Manuscript's Club - The People Behind a Thousand Years of Medieval Manuscripts, Christopher De Hamel

With beautiful color photographs of the manuscripts this is a visit with 12 different collectors or scholars of these manuscripts. Manuscripts have survived for this many centuries because they are valued and preserved. Why were they important and why are they still important? Why were handwritten manuscripts still produced after the printing press was developed? We travel through history to visit each person and their role - from Saint Anselm the Benedictine Monk (1033-1109) to more modern times of Sir Sydney Cockerell (1867-1962) and the space in between. It is an interesting study of the people who had influence on these manuscripts, and their reasons for it. A bit of history and bookish detail along the way. 

1984, George Orwell

I have been wanting to re-read this book. It's the kind of book that warrants a re-read every few years as our world changes, it is that warning reminder of the importance of truth, freedom, words, and meaning. Orwell builds this soon-to-come future of how life could look if we do not continue to fight for freedom, a totalitarian regime would control every single aspect of your life: Big Brother would be watching you from all your screens at home, what you read, where you go, what you write, what you say. Even what you think (the Thought Police will eventually catch you). Once they have your thoughts in their control it's a total loss of humanity.

"The thing that he was about to do was to open a diary. This was not illegal (nothing was illegal, since there were no longer any laws), but if detected it was reasonably certain that it would be punished by death." (pg. 7)

Black Coffee, Agatha Christie

Such a fun read. This is adapted from the play that Agatha wrote. A family mystery in a large estate home. A poisoned coffee leads to death, but who put the poison in the coffee? And why? Poirot is called in to help discover the truth, and as he talks to members of the family, additional motives for murder are revealed. You try to make your own assumptions based on the conversations who did it, but some new tidbit of information makes you question your theory. 

Christina Rossetti, The Complete Poems

I've mentioned how I have been reading through her poems and it is wonderful. Such a mix of topics from family, seasons, nature, religious, dream-like, creative. Some are so beautiful I read them a few times:

Time was I bloomed with blossom and stood leafy
How long before the fruit, if fruit there be:
Lord, if by bearing fruit my heart grows heavy,
Leafless and bloomless yet accept of me
The stripped fruit-bearing heart I offer Thee.

The Bookish May

 

JUNE
Indeed I feel as I came too soon
To round your young May moon
And set the world a-gasping at my noon.
Yet some I must. So here are strawberries
Sun-flushed and sweet, as many as you please;
And here are full-blown roses by the score.
More roses, and yet more.
(May, eating strawberries, withdraws among the flower beds.)
(Christina Rossetti)

I mean, every month is bookish, so let this be the sum of the bookish month of May. It's hard to believe it's already time to wrap up the month of May. May sits in the "in between" space before summer officially kicks in, but it's certainly not spring anymore. The weather seems a bit uncertain, like it can't make up it's mind. Part of the month was lost in a blue sky daze, dry and hot. Then suddenly it took a dramatic turn to the stormy afternoons, whereby now I have to pay attention as I leave work - will I be able to run an errand or will I get caught in a deluge? 

A quick day trip down to the coast, a little visit to my hometown, and then a bit of frolicking in Sarasota, of course my main goal was to visit the bookstore in the Selby Library, a favourite spot of mine since high school. It's always good to get back there. 

I also had the privilege of attending the Chesterton Academy Gala, which was an inspiring evening celebrating the classical academy with discission on virtues missing from schools today. G.K. Chesterton wrote a lot about the Christian virtues, and is a good guide to us all as we think through living and learning (for the next generation, and for ourselves, no matter how old we are!).

And I took my niece book shopping as we had an afternoon hanging out, which was a joy. Then we came home and read. It makes me happy to browse books and see anyone excited to read. I grab those chances whenever I can.

Amongst many other books, I've been reading through this massive collection of the poems of Christina Rossetti. Every morning I read a handful of pages of her poems. I had no idea she had written so many. This book is 880 pages of her poems, and I am loving them. I've always liked Christina Rossetti, but I think now that I am visiting with her more, she's at the top of my poet favourites. She was a faithful Christian and a creative spirit. He writings play with different rhymes and musicality and it's just beautiful. Some poems are lyrical and emotional, some are a response to a reading in Scripture, some are children's poems, some like the extract above play with personifying nature (or the months of the year and it's simply delightful, and some are in praise of nature as God's creation.

Our heaven must be within ourselves,
Our home and heaven the work of faith
All thro' this race of life with shelves
Downward to death.

So faith shall build the boundary wall,
And hope shall plant the secret bower,
That both may show magnifical
With gem and flower.

Needless to say it's been a wonderfully bookish May, and I am very glad about it. June has a lot to live up to.