The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry by Rachel Joyce

The Unlikely Pilgrimage Of Harold Fry

NB: Contains spoilers

In tone as well as in subject this story reminded me of Going Under by Ray French, both deal with essentially ordinary men in the later years of middle age doing outlandish things as the outworking of a long running emotional crisis.  There is a tenderness in the writing which, without being spectacular or especially dramatic, is deeply gripping.

The way in which Harold Fry’s decision to literally walk away from his wife, and the silence that has dominated their home and their marriage for years, brings them in the end closer together speaks to a very real feeling about the way many relationships exist.  Life in the ordinary can become comfortable and taken for granted, and it is easy for the focus of your attention to be on the small things that irritate rather than the big things that under pin a relationship – put simply you fail to notice the love.  

There is also a wider theme here, and also in Going Under, about the purpose of modern life.  The crisis point in both these stories is faced at the point when work is taken away.  The business of working life had been the cushion allowing these two men to get by without facing their demons.  We live in a society that in one sense increasingly values people on the basis of their work, there is a hierarchy of value based on the working role you have, and yet at the very same time “work” is becoming an increasingly unstable feature in our lives.  The idea of a job for life, such as that Harold Fry seems to have had, is being eroded – the experience not only of redundancy but of multiple redundancies is becoming the normal arc of your career. Maybe this is healthy, preventing us from coasting for years like Harold Fry, but for many it strips them of all resources and complete collapse is the end result.

Ordo Romanus Primus: Translation by Alan Griffiths

Ordo Romanus Primus: Text and Translation with Introduction and Notes (Joint Liturgical Studies)

One of the special joys of membership of the Alcuin Club is the arrival of the latest Joint Liturgical Study, even when as in this case it takes me 6 months to get around to reading it. These slim volumes shed little windows on to topics which are normally reserved only for the most specialised of reader.

In this case we are offered a few pages of contextual introduction and then a new translation of a Papal liturgical manual dating back to 8th century Rome.   The number of people involved in the liturgy does give the impression that it was likely to be either chaotic or fussy or indeed both. But what is interesting is that I happen to also be reading The Art of Tentmaking: Making Space for Worship a collection of essays in tribute to Richard Giles. While the detail of Giles liturgical programme might have few direct links to Ordo Romanus Primus one very key principle is highlighted by both.  Against a backdrop where most thinking about liturgy is based on a fetishisation of the "Text" we are drawn to the realisation that it is the actions, the way in which you perform the liturgy that is often central to its meaning and understanding. Giles is interested in space and movement much more than words and Ordo Romanus Primus quotes the text of the liturgy only to give a cue for action and movement.

This is something which was clear within the Church of England in the late 19th and early 20th Centuries where Anglo-Catholics were able to extend the range of meaning of the Protestant (or even Puritan) Book of Common Prayer with a the addition of ceremony - the ritualist trails of that era were witness to an understanding the textual conformity was not the guarantee of shared doctrine. This understanding was lost in the latter half of the 20th Century and, for me, the reforms of the text of Anglican liturgy, as currently expressed in the liberalised textual environment of Common Worship, have been a blind alley.  I would go as far as to say that the words have been given an idolatrous status.  While some forms of words are better than others, liturgy is not perfected because we stumble across the "right" words - liturgy is only perfected by the action of the Holy Spirit. 

Is It Just Me? by Miranda Hart

Is it Just Me?

Miranda Hart has become something of a fixture on our TV screens in the last couple of years, and now, as night follows day, there is a book.

If you are like me and you find Miranda delightful (and have to avoid drinking anything during her show due to the high risk that it would end up being spat out in an uncontrollable fit of laughter) then this book will be a good read. 

The twin voices of the 38 and 18 year old Mirandas discussing life's little ups and downs is effective - the only slight disappointment is that a significant amount of the content has already turned up with in her TV show (and if we were to be harsh the TV show was a straight remake of her Radio Show) so you kind of feel you might have got your moneys worth already.
Now some of it is the "catch phrase" touches - I would have been worried if we had gone through the book without a "Such Fun" or a gallop or two - but others result in whole chapters centring on a story that has played out as an episode on the TV - this is frustrating because I feel she does have more to give.

I think it is also worth a moment to rejoice in the philosophy of Miranda (Miranda-ism if you will) - this is essentially a reaction to a world that is po-faced and in which people are constrained by the desperate desire not to look like a prat.  While I don't go through life with quite as many slap-stick moments as Miranda I do find many of the same social situations difficult in the extreme - it won't be the first time that I have admitted in this blog the crippling self-consciousness that will grip me when required to make small talk at a party. Miranda seems to give us a manifesto of liberation - all we need to do is crash through social convention to the sun-lit up lands where it is ok to shout (or better sing with accompanying dance) that we really don't care what you think...

Mr Vogel by Lloyd Jones

Mr Vogel

I was given this as a must read by my Mother, normally a fairly trust worthy source of literary recommedations - but I am afraid for me this is a book that failed to launch.  Mum admitted in discussion after a told her I had abandoned it that she had read it twice before she got it, but with a bookshelf overflowing with unread tomes I feel live might be too short for a second attempt.

On reflection I think I failed to engage with this for many of the same reasons why I failed with Lord of the Rings.  Both have diversions, Lord of the Rings its songs and Mr Vogel rambling accounts of events in parallel to the narrative from characters real and imagined.  Both are tales of journeys yet both have the narrative pace to be overtaken by an elderly snail.

 

How God Became King by Tom Wright

How God Became King - Getting to the heart of the Gospels

This book is been given out widely in Winchester Diocese as part of the Bishop's plan to inspire a collective vision of mission and the future of the Church.  I am not sure whether this is the book that I would have chosen on which to built this house - particularly as I am not sure how it really relates to the main substance of the Bishop's vision as I have heard the Bishop talk about it. But enough of the scene setting.

Tom Wright is a man, so he tells us, who for many long years had the feeling that something wasn't right with the Church (in fact with the whole of Christian civilisation - at least this side of Byzantium - for the last millennia and a half) and finally he has realised what it is.  Such is the revelation that his 250 pages are left busting at the seams with the vigour and passion of his exposition of this grave error.

What, you may ask, can this new truth be?  Well - it boils down to the fact that the Church hasn't and doesn't pay enough attention to Jesus.  This error is expressed in two main forms, first there are those who focus solely on the Cross, Jesus has no being other than his death and resurrection, and second there are those who focus solely on his life and teaching, Jesus is a wise moral teacher but implicitly or explicitly his divinity is denied.

Now I am not saying Tom is wrong but it is a bit hard to take that the great theologian bishop has taken 64 years to work this one out - this is not news Tom! And what I really found difficult about this book was having spent so long labouring the point about the past and present errors of the Church I found little of substances about how we go about re-ordering our lives in proper relationship to an integrated vision of Jesus.

If you do want a read I suggest that the Charity shops of Hampshire will have a glut of copies in the coming months...
  

Come Emmanuel by Ann Lewin

Come Emmanuel: Approaching Advent, Living with Christmas

I guess I should begin by saying that I have the pleasure of being part of the same Parish as Ann in Southampton.  What Ann brings in person to the life of our Parish she shares through this book with a wider audience.

This is a gentle but thought provoking collection, bringing some of her poems together with particular thoughts on the season of Advent and then on to Christmas.  There are many books out there that try to make the "Advent - not Christmas" point, but often this come through a rage against the capitalist/consumerist society. Ann takes a slightly different approach, rather than rage against it with the futility of Canute she suggests we pray through it, let each early carol or plastic reindeer but a cause to stop and explore the mysteries of the season.

Her reflection for Epiphany was for me particularly welcome, a moment to refresh the joy of Christ coming into the world when the default reaction of Twelfth night is to sigh and say "thank God that's over for another year..."   

A little gem of a book that is well worth seeking out. 

The Innocence of Father Brown by G. K. Chesterton

The innocence of Father Brown

This is book is a collection of short chapters, each a self contained mystery.  This means we move very rapidly from murder to resolution in each chapter with a certain degree of repetition and so despite being just 250 pages long this benefits from being dipped into for a chapter or two rather than taken in a single sitting.  I found them excellent for reading on the bus.

In general you come to see Father Brown as a caring and charming figure however there are moments when one is confronted with attitudes, even from the enlightened Fr Brown, which suck you violently from the 21st Century.  This mostly occurs when foreigners enter the stories, and is especially true of The Wrong Shape where an Indian has a significant role.

 In noting this I am not wanting to condemn either Chesterton or Fr Brown from reflecting the general social melee of their time (this book is now over 100 years old) but nor can I escape the sensation of unease in encountering such attitudes.  They did become a flaw in my enjoyment of the book but on balance not a fatal flaw.