Tuesday, 31 May 2016

After me comes the flood by Sarah Perry



I was worried that I didn't actually have enough books to keep me going on our recent holiday and so a picked up a few, largely at random, from the Oxfam bookshop – it was entirely a case of judging books by their covers!

This is a vivid novel, the writing gives you a strong sense of place and of person. But does it go deeper than that, I am not sure? The arrival at a house populated by a collection of characters with complex back stories has an air of Iris Murdoch, but I feel that it has only the air and unfortunately lacks the substance.

This is a first novel, and so one does not want to push too hard, but there were a few points that jarred – for example, there are some anonymous letters being send and one of the characters reflecting on this finds it hard to imagine who would do such a thing because “this is not a novel” - and it was one of the moment and almost shouting at the book “yes it bloody is...”. More famous writers than Perry have erred in the same way, so while I count it unforgivable I don't judge her too harshly.

If you need a holiday read you will be well served.

Monday, 30 May 2016

Tunes of Glory by James Kennaway



A well constructed novel, it creates a claustrophobic world in which people are seeking belonging and identity – the two main protagonists, Sinclair and Barrow, have little in common expect that sorrowful desire.

Sinclair struggles to find a purpose in Army life in peacetime, Barrow perhaps with life in general.

It is set in the late forties or early fifties yet the world it creates often feels further removed from us than that – perhaps the cold of a Victorian Barracks held them suspended in time?

The Binding of Isaac, A Religious Model of Disobedience by Omri Boehm



This is one of the sources referred to in James Goodman's excellent book Abraham and his Son with I have reviewed elsewhere on this blog.

The key element that Boehm considers is the textual evidence that the intervention by the Angel to stop Abraham sacrificing Isaac is a later addition. The Angel speaks twice during the story, and there is wild consensus that the second occasion is an addition, but most have assumed that the first is an essential part of the narrative as without it there is no explanation of why Abraham did not go through with the command by God.

Boehm gives us detailed evidence for why the intervention can be considered an addition to the original text, and how the original text without either of the Angel's intervention remains a coherent whole – albeit one in which it is Abraham that decides not to complete the command of God rather than God deciding to withdraw that command.

Boehm looks at the dynamic between Kierkegaard and Kant who wrestle with this story, and in simple terms Kierkrgaard uses it as an example to support faith over “reason” while Kant sees it as central to the problems of faith. Their conclusions will of course be filled around if we accept Boehm's reading, as Abraham now rejects the command of God, which Kant argues is the only moral outcome. That Scripture shows that following his Disobedience Abraham is not punished but continues to enjoy the favour of God, would seem to imply that God is with Kant and disobeying his own command is OK, perhaps even better than obedience.

But what Boehm doesn't do is go the next step and offer is an exploration of the implications of this “Model of Disobedience” on the contemporary life of faith. This is a question Boehm does not set out to answer but it is surely one that is essential to consider once you allow this alternative reading any credence – I don't think you have to have signed up to it as fully authoritative before you need to at least test out its implications.

Perhaps it is that next layer of exploration that comes through in James Goodman's reflections on this theme.

Proud by Gareth Thomas



The retiring sport-star's autobiography has become a publishing staple, and as one of the greats of Welsh Rugby Gareth Thomas would probably have merited a book deal on that basis alone. But this is something more than the standard tale of victories and defeats, team talks and a back room gossip (in which context his reflections on the transition from the armature to professional era are insightful).

The major substance of this book is a raw account of Gareth Thomas' journey with his sexuality. He shares the long struggle, the ways in which he compartmentalised himself, and the growing pain leading to him opening up to his wife. He shares his attempts at suicide, with honest detail that avoids sensationalising those moments. The challenge he recounts in expressing feelings perhaps speaks more widely to why suicide rates among young man are so high.

He explores what it is for a bloke from Bridgend to be “gay” - I think one of the powerful shifts that has occurred in the last decade or so is the visibility of gay men who don't conform to old stereotypes. The idea that all gay men are camp or effeminate was a part of the constrain on Gareth expressing himself – there was a time when there was space to be openly gay, but only if you sacrificed part of the identity as “a man”- there was no such thing as a “gay bloke”. There are increasing role models (and Gareth a key example) who show that your sexuality is just one thing about you, it does not define you, and to be honest it is not a particularly important thing either.

This might make the book sound heavy, and in places it it, but it is not without a subtle humour, for example the first two players who knew about his sexuality were Stephen Jones and Martyn Williams – and Gareth says about Stephen Jones “He's from Llanelli. Played in France... he's going to be OK.” while about Williams he thought “He's from Pontypridd. A real man's man, hard worker, tough fucker...” and he was worried about his reaction. The insight into the sense of place and identity within Wales is revealing. However Williams was fine, indeed Gareth is in fact disappointed by the lack of reaction - all he got was “don't worry about. Let's have a beer.”.

How common is that as experience of coming out? We tie ourselves up in knots about our sexuality, we make the big announcement, and those around us either shrug and carry on as before or perhaps comment “cool, we were wondering when you were going to mention it”. This is clearly immeasurably better than those who are still being rejected for being honest about their sexuality, don't get me wrong about that.

But this affirmative indifference can in its own way be a challenge, I think it can feel almost as lonely as the closet if you still have the sense of being the “only gay in the village”- when Keegan Hirst, a Rugby League player, came out last year he was shortly afterwards given star billing at Manchester Pride and I think we could all do with a little bit of that.

Gareth Thomas, while in the closet, visited Soho, and is positive about the space that he found on the London Gay scene. That is not the experience of many, but also increasingly there is less and less of a scene, whatever your experience of it might be.

This is in part a positive trend, there is no longer a need to go to a gay bar with your boyfriend because being a visible couple in a regular bar is not a problem. But equally there are other dynamics that are less straightforward. For example, the increasing use of apps to meet – this can increase participation, many didn't have the opportunity, due to geography as much as anything, to access to gay bars, but social media can also be an isolating experience. Perhaps this is just a part of a transition in which coming to terms with your sexuality will be an ordinary part of teenage angst (which is not to belittle it – being a teenage is a pretty horrific experience for most people...).

Monday, 9 May 2016

Echoes of Eckhart by Richard Skinner



Richard Skinner is a poem that I have great fondness for and he offers us here a joyous little book.

His starting point is the 13th Century mystic Meister Eckhart – but other than the short introduction Skinner provides here I know nothing of Eckhart, but that didn't stop my enjoyment of these poems.

Each is an encounter, between Eckhart and the world around him, and sometimes God. It is a playful God, the one who can't help but answer a question with a question, who pops up when you are not seeking him, who is absent when you are...

The poems standalone, but also run together, with a theme flowing across two, three, four.

A couple of examples

You want to see me?
Then look deep
Into your soul

Doing as he is told
Meister Eckhart looks deep
And deeper still

Nothing here!
He exclaims

Quite so!
Nothing answers

And

A game
Of hide-and-seek
God is Cunningly concealed

Meister Eckhart is
At a loss

God deliberately
Clears his throat

And

Another year gone!
Another year older!
Meister Eckhart sighs

Not so! Not so!
I'm as young as ever!
His soul replies

Wednesday, 4 May 2016

Additional Baptism Texts in Accessible Language



Back in 2012 I considered the Additional Eucharistic Prayers and many of the failings that I found with that set of additional provision can also be applied to this provision for Baptism. The fundamental issue once again is that if you accept the need for alternative provision then what is offered here fails to provide a significantly difference from what was already on offer.

There is a need for greater boldness in revision if we believe there is a need at all, but the consequences of the need to pass through the Church of England's Synodical mechanisms is liturgy that is lack-lustre.

One feature of this booklet is that pleasing is that most of the rubrics are marked up as mandatory – I am a great believer in the importance of careful attention to rubrics – the only downside is that here, as is generally the case with Common Worship, the content of these “mandatory” rubric is entirely permissive – such as saying that “this or another suitable prayer may be said”, so you can say nothing, or say anything that happens to seem suitable to you.

It is also a worry that the notes on the use of the alternative text refer in a number of places to things which “a sensitive priest” will do. We have all met plenty of insensitive priests but who is meant to tell such insensitive priests that they are best sticking with the standard provisions as they lack the skill or the wit in order to make effective use of these alternative provisions?

Of the specifics of the alternative provision I think one particular loss is that both the alternative prayers over the water miss out references to creation – where rich and accessible imagery could have been included, imagery that would appeal beyond the Christian tradition.

Of the two prayers that are given – the first, with references to passing through the Red Sea and Jesus passing “through the deep waters of death”, seems to have little to commend it, especially in the context of trying to engage those with little knowledge of Biblical narratives. I find it difficult to imagine anyone using this instead of the second offering which makes a direct connection between Jesus' own baptism, his commission to baptise others, and the action that is about to happen.

Monday, 2 May 2016

In Search of Welshness by Peter Daniels




“If we are to be treated differently, then why not demonstrate that we are different.”

This idea is underpins much of this memoir by Daniels. Having grown up in Llanelli he has spent the vast majority of his adult life in England, and particularly in London and the Home Counties. In a move not uncommon for the “exile” the articulation of being “welsh” only became important to Daniels once he was no longer in Wales, once it became a point of differential.

Although growing up in an area with a strong presence of the Welsh language Daniels was a English speaking monoglot – and the place of the language within the national identity is something he explores – it is a complex and at times difficult relationship. In later life he is learning Welsh – not to make him a truer Welshman but to participate in other parts of the cultural tapestry of being Welsh.

Rugby places a massive part of Daniels' sense of being Welsh – centred on regular attendance at the London Welsh – I wonder what his reflection would be on the London Welsh's recent relocation out of the capital to meet the requirements for grounds in high league competition (that high level of play has not been sustained and so the Welsh are back at their traditional home of Old Deer Park). But you perhaps wanted him to explore, as with the language, what it might be to be Welsh and not love rugby – perhaps it was a question beyond the pale?

Coming back to the initial quote, I found a personal resonance to this. I have often had to explain, justify even, my claim to be Welsh. Having 3 English Grandparents, not a word of Welsh, and until recently never having lived west of Windsor, it could often take a fair bit of explaining! But having been given a Welsh name, having been mark out as different, it has always seemed the natural response to embrace that difference rather than try to deny it. (My parents provided me with an English middle name to allow me the choice of an alternative cultural identity – but I have never been able to imagine myself as Robert Stone).

That there is “a search” is part of a clue that all identity is at some level a myth – recalling Benedict Anderson's Imagine Communities – where we draw the lines is a process of construction. Acknowledging this is not to deny the power of the identities, or even their reality, but it opens the door to a certain degree of fluidity around who is entitled to claim the identity, and also to what the essential characteristics of the identity are. It gives room for healthy evolutions.