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lory_enterenchanted's Reviews (582)
Reviews and more on my blog: Entering the Enchanted Castle
This was an above average middle grade historical, well written and with good atmosphere. Marjan immediately has our sympathy, the slow reveal of her story is skillfully played out, and the humanization of legendary figures is also believable. I liked the underlying message of the power of stories to shape our lives.
This was an above average middle grade historical, well written and with good atmosphere. Marjan immediately has our sympathy, the slow reveal of her story is skillfully played out, and the humanization of legendary figures is also believable. I liked the underlying message of the power of stories to shape our lives.
Reviews and more on my blog: Entering the Enchanted Castle
In the introduction a comment about de Mille is repeated, that she is a better writer than she is a choreographer. I thought that was an insult until I read the book. She is an excellent writer! I am not a judge of choreography, so can't say anything to that, but her words often show a sense of movement and rhythm that is a joy to encounter, given the plodding and inelegant prose one so often encounters these days. Language is a bodily art too, she reminds us.
The book is a sort of a hodgepodge, which she says she scribbled in odd moments while taking care of small children and handed over to her publishers as a mass of material in a shopping bag. Bits about her early life and dancing career are interspersed with backstage views of the creation of works like Rodeo and Oklahoma! and portraits of notable figures like Martha Graham, Antony Tudor, and Marie Rambert.
I think it's likely that as a dancer she was not as great as these, and that she was kept afloat so long as a struggling young artist only by her family's money and influence (she was the niece of Cecil B. De Mille). There is too much in the book about these early concerts, which become boring to read about since one cannot actually see the dancing. But there are other moments that absolutely shine and give wings to the words in a remarkable way.
In the introduction a comment about de Mille is repeated, that she is a better writer than she is a choreographer. I thought that was an insult until I read the book. She is an excellent writer! I am not a judge of choreography, so can't say anything to that, but her words often show a sense of movement and rhythm that is a joy to encounter, given the plodding and inelegant prose one so often encounters these days. Language is a bodily art too, she reminds us.
The book is a sort of a hodgepodge, which she says she scribbled in odd moments while taking care of small children and handed over to her publishers as a mass of material in a shopping bag. Bits about her early life and dancing career are interspersed with backstage views of the creation of works like Rodeo and Oklahoma! and portraits of notable figures like Martha Graham, Antony Tudor, and Marie Rambert.
I think it's likely that as a dancer she was not as great as these, and that she was kept afloat so long as a struggling young artist only by her family's money and influence (she was the niece of Cecil B. De Mille). There is too much in the book about these early concerts, which become boring to read about since one cannot actually see the dancing. But there are other moments that absolutely shine and give wings to the words in a remarkable way.
Reviews and more on my blog: Entering the Enchanted Castle
I read this book many years ago as a teenager or in my twenties, because I had loved MacDonald's books as a child. But Lilith was something else again, and I think it must have put me off with its mostly dark and inscrutable images, and philosophical talk about death being the only way to true life. I don't have a strong memory of my response at the time; interested but puzzled, I think.
Since then I've read and learned more about esoteric Christianity, spiritual development, and paths of initiation, and gone through a kind of death-rebirth process of my own through an extreme personal crisis at midlife. Now, picking this book up is like reading a textbook written in fairy-tale images about such a process of initiation. Extraordinary, and marred only by the twee sayings of the "Little Ones" who are far too cutesy (but that is a nineteenth century literary disease), and the sometimes murky prose. I will be reading it again, I'm sure, and there are lots of passages I want to copy and ponder at length.
I read this book many years ago as a teenager or in my twenties, because I had loved MacDonald's books as a child. But Lilith was something else again, and I think it must have put me off with its mostly dark and inscrutable images, and philosophical talk about death being the only way to true life. I don't have a strong memory of my response at the time; interested but puzzled, I think.
Since then I've read and learned more about esoteric Christianity, spiritual development, and paths of initiation, and gone through a kind of death-rebirth process of my own through an extreme personal crisis at midlife. Now, picking this book up is like reading a textbook written in fairy-tale images about such a process of initiation. Extraordinary, and marred only by the twee sayings of the "Little Ones" who are far too cutesy (but that is a nineteenth century literary disease), and the sometimes murky prose. I will be reading it again, I'm sure, and there are lots of passages I want to copy and ponder at length.
Reviews and more on my blog: Entering the Enchanted Castle
A better understanding and appreciation of the figure of Mary Magdalene can "help us quit being afraid of human intimacy and start learning how to handle it better," claims Cynthia Bourgeault -- and what is more needed in the world today, both secular and religious? Her challenging, some would say heretical thesis is that Mary Magdalene has been denied her true role in the Christian story, as not only an intimate disciple and apostle, but the human beloved of Jesus. Bourgeault's treatment of this hot topic is subtle, thoroughly researched and argued, leading to a complex understanding of the principle of kenosis, or sacrificial, self-giving love, which can exist equally in celibate and non-celibate forms, neither of which is superior to the other -- but which is absolutely necessary to our continued human evolution, and central to the teaching and life of Jesus Christ.
Bourgeault is far from the simple-mindedness and ignorance of Da Vinci Code-style hype, which has only served to obscure and delegitimize an important area for modern spiritual questing. I'm not sure I agree with every one of her claims, but I do think she is on to something here. I certainly agree that we need a new frame of reference to permit "a genuine reconciliation of Christianity with human sexuality [that will] free both celibacy and conjugal love to be the transformative pathways that they truly are." If this is not found, I can hardly see any way forward for Christianity, whose death knell has long been rung by our sex-obsessed secular society; but with these new perspectives, some unforeseen possibilities start to open up. Exciting.
One caveat -- I am not sure enough caution is advised in regard to mixing sexual and spiritual transformation. Both are areas where human beings are extremely vulnerable to unscrupulous and unprincipled influences. Maybe traditional religious celibacy originates not so much from a fear of sexuality per se, but a fear of the damage that can be done to people through invading their vulnerable places -- and that has to be taken seriously.
The writer Charles Williams, for example, whom Bourgeault cites as a model philospher of substitutional love, engaged in highly questionable behavior with young women who fell under his spiritual spell, having emotional (if not physical) affairs with them in which he released sexual energy through sadomasochistic behaviors like spanking. He was described in a recent biography as having an unhappy and unfulfilled life, not at all a good advertisement for the form of "love" that he practiced.
That said, I still think this is an important topic that needs to be opened up for investigation. But for all her research, perhaps Bourgeault still has some blind spots.
A better understanding and appreciation of the figure of Mary Magdalene can "help us quit being afraid of human intimacy and start learning how to handle it better," claims Cynthia Bourgeault -- and what is more needed in the world today, both secular and religious? Her challenging, some would say heretical thesis is that Mary Magdalene has been denied her true role in the Christian story, as not only an intimate disciple and apostle, but the human beloved of Jesus. Bourgeault's treatment of this hot topic is subtle, thoroughly researched and argued, leading to a complex understanding of the principle of kenosis, or sacrificial, self-giving love, which can exist equally in celibate and non-celibate forms, neither of which is superior to the other -- but which is absolutely necessary to our continued human evolution, and central to the teaching and life of Jesus Christ.
Bourgeault is far from the simple-mindedness and ignorance of Da Vinci Code-style hype, which has only served to obscure and delegitimize an important area for modern spiritual questing. I'm not sure I agree with every one of her claims, but I do think she is on to something here. I certainly agree that we need a new frame of reference to permit "a genuine reconciliation of Christianity with human sexuality [that will] free both celibacy and conjugal love to be the transformative pathways that they truly are." If this is not found, I can hardly see any way forward for Christianity, whose death knell has long been rung by our sex-obsessed secular society; but with these new perspectives, some unforeseen possibilities start to open up. Exciting.
One caveat -- I am not sure enough caution is advised in regard to mixing sexual and spiritual transformation. Both are areas where human beings are extremely vulnerable to unscrupulous and unprincipled influences. Maybe traditional religious celibacy originates not so much from a fear of sexuality per se, but a fear of the damage that can be done to people through invading their vulnerable places -- and that has to be taken seriously.
The writer Charles Williams, for example, whom Bourgeault cites as a model philospher of substitutional love, engaged in highly questionable behavior with young women who fell under his spiritual spell, having emotional (if not physical) affairs with them in which he released sexual energy through sadomasochistic behaviors like spanking. He was described in a recent biography as having an unhappy and unfulfilled life, not at all a good advertisement for the form of "love" that he practiced.
That said, I still think this is an important topic that needs to be opened up for investigation. But for all her research, perhaps Bourgeault still has some blind spots.
Reviews and more on my blog: Entering the Enchanted Castle
This was interesting but not as compelling as I have found some of Renault's other books. The shoehorning in of information about ancient theater and about various famous figures (most notably Plato) did not feel entirely natural. The idea seemed to be to follow how Plato's ideas about the good ruler were worked out in a real life context, through the story of a ruler who tried to overcome the tyranny in Syracuse, first through philosophy and then through force. This did not have a happy ending.
This was interesting but not as compelling as I have found some of Renault's other books. The shoehorning in of information about ancient theater and about various famous figures (most notably Plato) did not feel entirely natural. The idea seemed to be to follow how Plato's ideas about the good ruler were worked out in a real life context, through the story of a ruler who tried to overcome the tyranny in Syracuse, first through philosophy and then through force. This did not have a happy ending.
Reviews and more on my blog: Entering the Enchanted Castle
I wanted to read this because I'm personally interested in the theme of the wounded healer. I've been severely burnt by the attitudes and practices of people in positions of leadership and authority, who have not addressed their own wounds and become hurtful rather than helpful. They may want to be healers, or believe they are, but they just make things worse, or most often cover up and mask the underlying issues while failing to take any responsibility for the results. I definitely don't want to do this myself, so I need guidance about how to avoid that trap.
I found Nouwen's perspective helpful, especially the last chapter. He points out that it's a false goal to promise wholeness and immortality. What the wounded healer can offer is "hospitality," a safe space for the other to unfold his or her own soul, and to share the suffering that is the common ground of our human condition. When suffering is shared in this way, recognized and held in a compassionate consciousness, it becomes a path to liberation.
I think this is an extremely important and profound point. Any relationship, any faith, or any political regime or movement, that promises to remove all our pain and make everything great again, should be suspect. Nouwen believes that the loneliness which is our deepest human wound is also, viewed from a true Christian perspective, our greatest gift. The paradoxical mystery of the Christian path is to share this loneliness and make it into a way forward, rather than a dead stop.
I know already of many places in my own life where I can try to practice this, and see for myself whether it does indeed lead forward into paths of liberation. Thanks to Nouwen for pointing the way.
I wanted to read this because I'm personally interested in the theme of the wounded healer. I've been severely burnt by the attitudes and practices of people in positions of leadership and authority, who have not addressed their own wounds and become hurtful rather than helpful. They may want to be healers, or believe they are, but they just make things worse, or most often cover up and mask the underlying issues while failing to take any responsibility for the results. I definitely don't want to do this myself, so I need guidance about how to avoid that trap.
I found Nouwen's perspective helpful, especially the last chapter. He points out that it's a false goal to promise wholeness and immortality. What the wounded healer can offer is "hospitality," a safe space for the other to unfold his or her own soul, and to share the suffering that is the common ground of our human condition. When suffering is shared in this way, recognized and held in a compassionate consciousness, it becomes a path to liberation.
I think this is an extremely important and profound point. Any relationship, any faith, or any political regime or movement, that promises to remove all our pain and make everything great again, should be suspect. Nouwen believes that the loneliness which is our deepest human wound is also, viewed from a true Christian perspective, our greatest gift. The paradoxical mystery of the Christian path is to share this loneliness and make it into a way forward, rather than a dead stop.
I know already of many places in my own life where I can try to practice this, and see for myself whether it does indeed lead forward into paths of liberation. Thanks to Nouwen for pointing the way.
Reviews and more on my blog: Entering the Enchanted Castle
A review of the new biography of Louise Fitzhugh inspired me to hunt this one out again. I'd read it a long time ago and remembered being impressed, but no details. It was not one of the two I reread over and over again in my childhood, Harriet the Spy and The Long Secret.
So this was almost like a first read for me. And I was startled by the punch that Fitzhugh packs in this little story. As in the books centered around Harriet and Beth Ellen, the strength is in the main characters, Emma and Willie -- they leap off the page (literally in the case of Willie, the dancer). In intimate details of their inner and outer behavior and thinking, their idiosyncrasies and flaws, they become real to us, we become invested in their dreams and identify with their plight. The adults are more distant and caricatured, almost just props to bring out the theme of the book, which is the powerlessness of abused children and the fight for their rights.
What is most unusual here is that the children themselves are the ones who are fighting. And Emma, in particular, has to go through a difficult process of finding her true goals and her hidden strength, and rejecting "help" that would reduce her power and agency. The story ends just where I rather wish Fitzhugh would have gone on to write a second half. It would have been so interesting to see what developed once Emma made connections with other girls who wanted to create change in their lives. But maybe she couldn't write that part because the history hadn't happened yet. I think it's happening now.
A review of the new biography of Louise Fitzhugh inspired me to hunt this one out again. I'd read it a long time ago and remembered being impressed, but no details. It was not one of the two I reread over and over again in my childhood, Harriet the Spy and The Long Secret.
So this was almost like a first read for me. And I was startled by the punch that Fitzhugh packs in this little story. As in the books centered around Harriet and Beth Ellen, the strength is in the main characters, Emma and Willie -- they leap off the page (literally in the case of Willie, the dancer). In intimate details of their inner and outer behavior and thinking, their idiosyncrasies and flaws, they become real to us, we become invested in their dreams and identify with their plight. The adults are more distant and caricatured, almost just props to bring out the theme of the book, which is the powerlessness of abused children and the fight for their rights.
What is most unusual here is that the children themselves are the ones who are fighting. And Emma, in particular, has to go through a difficult process of finding her true goals and her hidden strength, and rejecting "help" that would reduce her power and agency. The story ends just where I rather wish Fitzhugh would have gone on to write a second half. It would have been so interesting to see what developed once Emma made connections with other girls who wanted to create change in their lives. But maybe she couldn't write that part because the history hadn't happened yet. I think it's happening now.
Reviews and more on my blog: Entering the Enchanted Castle
After Bourgeault's Centering Prayer and Inner Awakening, this was another very thoughtful and thorough exploration of the simple, yet profound practice of Centering Prayer. The book brings together three different types of presentation, from an introductory workshop to an in-depth analysis of the foundational medieval text The Cloud of Unknowing, but all are clearly related to the central theme.
After several decades of this practice developing as a recovery of the contemplative tradition for the Western Christian world, it is time to take stock and consider how to bring it further into the future. The author has some strong opinions and some reservations about some points of view that muddle or weaken the practice, and she does a good job of conveying these in an objective way.
After Bourgeault's Centering Prayer and Inner Awakening, this was another very thoughtful and thorough exploration of the simple, yet profound practice of Centering Prayer. The book brings together three different types of presentation, from an introductory workshop to an in-depth analysis of the foundational medieval text The Cloud of Unknowing, but all are clearly related to the central theme.
After several decades of this practice developing as a recovery of the contemplative tradition for the Western Christian world, it is time to take stock and consider how to bring it further into the future. The author has some strong opinions and some reservations about some points of view that muddle or weaken the practice, and she does a good job of conveying these in an objective way.
Reviews and more on my blog: Entering the Enchanted Castle
This was a stunning observation of the self-deception we practice when denying a disability. What Kuusisto suffered and learned can benefit everyone, as we struggle to permit ourselves to be needy and to find the community that alone can make us whole. His vivid verbal images, full of surprising discoveries, make the prose a joy to read.
The dog pictured on the cover only makes her appearance in the last two chapters, but one knows from the outset that it's her companionship which makes Kuusisto's creative life possible. The human-dog teamwork is a powerful example of the human need to have trust in the kind of guidance that empowers us and facilitates our autonomy.
A wonderful book that I'll surely read again and recommend to many.
This was a stunning observation of the self-deception we practice when denying a disability. What Kuusisto suffered and learned can benefit everyone, as we struggle to permit ourselves to be needy and to find the community that alone can make us whole. His vivid verbal images, full of surprising discoveries, make the prose a joy to read.
The dog pictured on the cover only makes her appearance in the last two chapters, but one knows from the outset that it's her companionship which makes Kuusisto's creative life possible. The human-dog teamwork is a powerful example of the human need to have trust in the kind of guidance that empowers us and facilitates our autonomy.
A wonderful book that I'll surely read again and recommend to many.
Reviews and more on my blog: Entering the Enchanted Castle
J'ai lu plusieurs livres de Laurain en anglais, et je voulais essayer cet écrivain en français. Je l'ai trouvé facile à lire, mais avec assez belle langage - parfait pour moi comme étudiante de français. L'histoire était assez simple, et le fin pas du tout surprenant. Le plaisir était dans les déscriptions, les objets et les scènes avec lesquels les personnages étaient occupés. J'imagine que ce livre ferait un excellent film.
J'ai lu plusieurs livres de Laurain en anglais, et je voulais essayer cet écrivain en français. Je l'ai trouvé facile à lire, mais avec assez belle langage - parfait pour moi comme étudiante de français. L'histoire était assez simple, et le fin pas du tout surprenant. Le plaisir était dans les déscriptions, les objets et les scènes avec lesquels les personnages étaient occupés. J'imagine que ce livre ferait un excellent film.