The Anchoress identifies the source of the world’s problems: fruit.
I’ve read some science fiction, and Engineer Husband works at NASA; however, this thought never occurred to me. Are we going beyond the boundaries that God set for Adam’s race in Genesis when we attempt to explore, maybe even colonize, the Moon or other planets?
Stefanie at So Many Books on reading goals and halfway day. Last week, I posted my list of books read so far this year. Best books read this year: River Rising by Athol Dickson, Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card<, Jewel by Brett Lott, and Girl Meets God by Lauren Winner.
Anthony Esolen on a Christian basis for comedy. I think I understand what he’s talking about, although I’m still trying to wrap my mind around it. The ancient Greek comedies are all about politics and scorn for the stupidity of the opposition, aren’t they? I don’t what other ancient peoples laughed about. Esolen writes about “the strange belief, quite foreign to the pagans, that laughter too might be redemptive, as participating in the greatest comedy of all, that of a world wherein man is saved by the means he least expects, and therefore by the most fitting and comical means of all. For the fact is that we like Bottom not just as a source of laughter, but as Bottom and no other; as we like Don Quixote, and Charlie Brown, and the fat bus driver Ralph Kramden. We like them because we take for granted that they are of inestimable value, and because we know that they replicate, in particularly ridiculous form, a story that is our own.” This piece reminds me of that particularly “Christian” movie about Jews during the Holocaust, Life Is Beautiful. Only people who believe in forgiveness and some sort of redemption could make a movie that laughs in the middle of supreme tragedy.
Finally, I hate the entire premise of this post at Wittingshire, maybe because I’m afraid there’s a nugget of truth there? Does the reading of fiction insulate you from reality and give you the illusion of having lived, or does fiction inspire you to do the work of loving and serving real people?
Oh, I think there is a nugget of truth, but I wouldn’t make it a sweeping generalization.
I think in many ways, the sense of having lived something through literature is a wonderful thing. There are some experiences which one simply cannot experience unless one enters into the realm of literature. For instance, through the reading of novels, one can better understand a period of history. The reading of Les Mis, for instance, transports the reader to another place–an historical place–that is rich and foreign and allows a glimpse, not only into the history of the times, but the minds of its people. And, in turn, one comes away with a deeper understanding of the human condition.
On that final point, I’m sure reading can insulate you, but it doesn’t have to, and I’m sure that writing fiction is loving and serving real people.
I have that book by Peter Thorpe and have read it a couple of times. Years ago I even recommended it to some of my fellow English majors who were going on to earn master degrees because so much of the book applied to many of us who would rather read than do. Obviously, I don’t take Thorpe’s warnings or my own too seriously – I’d rather read then do anything else, and there are days when my family gets very sketchy meals, no clean floors, and no clean clothes because I can’t get out of the book I’m reading!