Monday, 1 May 2017

Dark Mermaids by Anne Lauppe-Dunbar



The setting of this story, just after the fall of the Berlin Wall while the two Germanys remained uneasy about their pasts uncertain about their future, is so rich that it has significant potential to overwhelm a storyteller of inferior quality – it is credit to Lauppe-Dunbar that she weaves her tale seamlessly into this historical backdrop.

There is Sophia, young West German Police officer, realising that the Wall coming down is opening up not just a country but also her past – her past as a star of the GDR swimming team. Mia, teenager, orphan, raised by her, now dying, Grandmother, for whom the Wall may have come down but fear of the power of the state, of the Stasi, remains real. Their separate lives are drawn together intertwining as they unravel.

For much of the journey it certainly puts the “Dark” in Dark Mermaids – murder, doping, lies and betrayal, sexual abuse pile up, survival for Sophia was only possible through emotional shut-down. But as she faces her demons so she discovers the possibility of tenderness and love again. While it is a tale of the astounding capability of human endurance under ultimate strain, and in that way is a story of hope – Sophia's endurance is set against a backdrop of many others who did not survive.

It feels like we live in a world that needs to learn the lessons of this tale – a world that perhaps needs to learn these lessons more urgently now that at any point since the fall of the Berlin Wall. It is not just that the corruption of sport continues, there are suggestions of state sponsored programmes as far reaching as those of the GDR, but even outside of such state programmes the stakes have been raised so high that taking the advantage that drugs bring seems to too many worth the risks. But more pressingly the ways in which national pride is rising and with it claims to national interest can be used to justify stripping individuals of rights and basic human dignity – reducing them to mere instruments within the exercise of power. Ends claimed to justify means, when we need to turn the spotlight on whether the ends are even desirable in the first place?

A powerful novel in its own right, but all the more powerful for speaking to the Zeitgeist.

The Smell of Other People's Houses by Bonnie-Sue Hitchcock



I will be honest as admit to buying this book because I liked the cover … But thankfully the content rewarded this decision.

Writing in the voices of Ruth, Dora, Alyce, and Hank alternately Bonnie-Sue breathes an authenticity into their lives that is captivating. These are young people on that difficult threshold of adulthood – with lives that forcing them forward whether they like it or not. As these young people struggle, the sense of isolation – that it is them against the world – has a familiar ring. There is much drama to be had in the small town setting, with the sense of place as powerful character within the story as an of the people – which puts me in mind of Cider with Rosie.

This has been bracketed as a “youth” novel, which might be helpful to the marketing department of the publisher but to the reader it is a pointless distinction – this is quality writing, worthy of a readership of any age.

Crucifixions and Resurrections of the Image by George Pattison



Pattison has in his sight the (false?) dichotomy between Modern Art and Christianity. While many artists reject a religious faith or world-view, or possibly increasingly are indifferent to faith – one of a number of irrelevances that have not bearing on their work. However Pattison notes that “Context and reception must also be weighed, and the work's effects belong to the work, whatever the intention of the artist.” Therefore the meaning of a work can go beyond the understand of the artist, and so Pattison goes on to explore a range of artist's work in this spirit.

A book about Art without any illustrations does make it essential to be reading it within reach of a search engine to see the works that Pattison makes essential to his analysis.

More Empty Tabernacles by Michael Yelton



Published by the Anglo-Catholic History Society, Michael Yelton recounts the history of 12 London Churches – most of which have been demolished, all of which have ceased to be Anglican Churches.

Most, but not all, of these Churches were founded during the Victorian heights of the Anglo-Catholic movement, with its urgent and energetic sense of Mission to the urban poor. That these Churches were short lived can be accounted for by the confluence of two main developments. One is a lost of urgency and energy within the movement in the post-War years, the other was the de-population of many of the poorest districts in London as slums were replaced with suburban estates.

Yelton gives an account of the building, and any significant modifications that occurred to it, but he also gives an account of the Priests that lead these Churches, and it is here that the real colour and interest lies. For much of the period under consideration the Anglo-Catholic movement was marginalised within the Church of England (most of those considered here would fall at the “extreme” neo-Papist end of the Anglican spectrum) and so those that inhibited it were often eccentric – probably those without that tendency would have found their place closer to the mainstream of the Church.

Yelton does these Parishes the honour of remembering them, they burned brightly with the spirit of the Gospel, even if they burned briefly.