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  • Zen Master Who?

    James Ishmael Ford’s Zen Master Who? is a quick run through the major schools of Zen represented in the United States. (There’s a lot of territory to cover, so it has to be at running speed.)

    Starting with an outline of the origins of Buddhism, Ford moves on to some of the notable characters in the development of Zen–and they are characters, in the senses of both their semi-historical status and their quirky individuality. He is careful and comprehensive in describing the predominantly Japanese founders of contemporary, Western Zen, some of whom originally came to the United States to serve Asian communities.

    I learned more about those early Zen masters in America that I already knew of, and also learned of a few more. But the most interesting parts of the book were where Ford gives short biographies of major contemporary Zen masters, describing how they came to Buddhism and who they studied with, placing them in the context of their Buddhist lineages; and where Ford considers the current state and direction of liberal, Western Zen.

    One thing I was hoping for, which was not a focus of the book, was a deeper explanation of the titles and names used in Buddhism. The book has a glossary, and Ford does acknowledge the titling and naming conventions, but he doesn’t really explain them–and he certainly doesn’t break down names of individuals to clear up which words are titles, which are birth names, and which are names given during Buddhist transitions. (I kept imagining a book titled Queen Who?, which might detail the origins of the British monarchy, describe major monarchs, and briefly outline the genealogy of the current and recent generations, but fail to help the reader understand why Princess Michael of Kent is called Princess Michael of Kent.)

    My only other complaint is poor editing. The book uses stock phrases (i.e., “(about whom, more below)”) to excess, and there are a few places where better copyediting was called for.

  • Published book review

    The current issue of UU World has my review of Michael Pollan’s The Omnivore’s Dilemma.

  • I’m not making this up, you know

    Goodbye Anna Russell

  • The Machine’s Child

    Kage Baker’s Company novels finally begin to move towards closure in The Machine’s Child. Okay, so given Kage Baker’s writing style, that characterisation is a bit rosy! But characters and plot lines of several of the previous books and short stories do begin to come together here, and the time periods covered edge closer and closer to 2355. Oh, and there’s a big fat cliffhanger, don’t you know.

  • Ten things about California

    Since the Friday Ten has fallen way by the wayside, I thought I’d do a Tuesday Ten. (I’ve always loved alliteration. Must be the Anglo Saxon in me.) So here goes, with ten things I liked about my recent trip to California:

    1. My parents are in good health.
    2. My nephew is cute as a button and smart as a whip.
    3. It was only in the 90s (F) during the day.
    4. It was low humidity. (See #3!)
    5. It was sunny.
    6. I saw a roadrunner.
    7. I had really good Mexican food.
    8. My new blackberry worked perfectly, allowing me to check email and even to Google a guest house in Palm Springs.
    9. I spent time in Palm Springs for the first time. WooHoo! I highly recommend it.
    10. All four legs of my flights were smooth and on time.

  • Victoriana

    This summer I got on a 19th-century literature kick. I began rereading What Jane Austen Ate and Charles Dickens Knew, and I decided I should finally read some Dickens. So I picked up Great Expectations. I loved it! Miss Havisham is an amazing character. I even kept reading when Pip became totally obnoxious. As for the controversy over the ending, I didn’t find either one very satisfying, but I thought the published version better than the original.

    Then it was on to Anthony Trollope with The Warden. What a soap opera! I couldn’t wait to get Barchester Towers, so I could find out what happened next for Septimus Harding. I was surprised by the somewhat arch insertion of the narrator in the text. Here’s a fine example, which happens to be a spoiler of the highest degree, to be found well before the end of the first volume (Barchester Towers was originally published in three volumes).

    But let the gentle-hearted reader be under no apprehension whatsoever. It is not destined that Eleanor shall marry Mr Slope or Bertie Stanhope. And here, perhaps, it may be allowed to the novelist to explain his views on a very important point in the art of telling tales. He ventures to reprobate that system which goes so far to violate all proper confidence between the author and his readers, by maintaining nearly to the end of the third volume a mystery as the the fate of their favourite personage. Nay, more, and worse than tiss is too frequently done. Have not often the profoundest efforts of genius been used to baffle the aspirations of the reader, to raise false hopes and false fears, and to give rise to expectations which are never to be realized? Are not promises all but made of delightful horrors, in lieu of which the writer produces nothing but most commonplace realities in his final chapter? And is there not a species of deceit in this to which the honesty of the present age should lend no countenance?

    And what can be the worth of that solicitude which a peep into the third volume can utterly dissipate? What the value of those literary charms which are absolutely destroyed by their enjoyment? When we have once learnt what was that picture before which was hung Mrs Radcliffe’s solemn curtain, we feel no further interest about either the frame or the veil. They are to us merely a receptacle for old bones, an inappropriate coffin, which we would wish to have decently buried out of our sight.

    And then, how grievous a thing it is to have the pleasure of your novel destroyed by the ill-considered triumph of a previous reader. ‘Oh, you needn’t be alarmed for Augusta, of course she accepts Gustavus in the end.’ ‘How very ill=natured you are, Susan,’ says Kitty, with tears in her eyes; ‘I don’t care a bit about it now.’ Dear Kitty, if you will read my book, you may defy the ill-nature of your sister. There shall be no secret that she can tell you. Nay, take the third volume if you please—learn from the last pages all the results of our troubled story, and the story shall have lost none of its interest, if indeed there be any interest in it to lose.

    Our doctrine is that the author and the reader should move along together in full confidence with each other. Let the personages of the drama undergo ever so complete a comedy of errors among themselves, but let the spectator never mistake the Syracusan for the Ephesian; otherwise he is one of the dupes, and the part of a dupe is never dignified.

    I would not for the value of this chapter have it believed by a single reader that my Eleanor could bring herself to marry Mr Slope, or that she should be sacrificed to Bertie Stanhope. But among the good folk of Barchester many believed both the one and the other.

    And you can bet I’m in the market for Doctor Thorne.

  • You are what you eat

    I recently finished Michael Pollan’s The Omnivore’s Dilemma (which I’ve reviewed for UU World. Many of the concerns Pollan takes up regarding food production have also been addressed by the Guardian. Today, for instance there’s this article: Will the organic dream turn sour?

    We now have millions of people buying organic in a committed way. But there’s a tightrope to be walked: we must promote organic farming, but not industrialised organic production.

    I subscribe to a box delivery scheme (as the Brits would say) of organic fruits and vegetables. The quality is for the most part quite high, and there’s a nice variety, but much of the produce comes from a distance. During the summer I stopped the service because there are so many farmers markets available to me.

    My friend Pam in Philadelphia has started a company to do home delivery of locally produced food (including meats). I don’t know if everything is organic, but I think it is. As both Pollan and the Guardian point out, the carbon load of organic products shipped from around the world may easily outweigh any environmental benefits of organic produce.

    Eating with an eye toward ecological responsibility is filled with confusion and compromise. Here’s to the tightrope!

  • Astronomy Picture of the Day

    A truly amazing photo on Astronomy Picture of the Day for September 21. (You can see previous days’ photos if you follow the link after today.)

  • Advice for teachers

    “1000 words of advice for design teachers” has great advice not only for design teachers, but for anyone teaching.

  • Leaving Church: A Memoir of Faith

    One of the nicest perks of working for a magazine is getting to pick over the books sent for review. Although we didn’t review it, I quickly snatched up Barbara Brown Taylor’s Leaving Church: A Memoir of Faith.

    Barbara Brown Taylor is an editor-at-large at The Christian Century, where I first read her writing. These autobiographical musings are rich and wonderfully written. But beyond that, I loved the book because it spoke in part to where I am, spiritually.

    While definitely about leaving church, it’s also about keeping faith. Indeed, the three major sections are “Finding,” “Losing,” and “Keeping.” Taylor describes her call to ministry, and even as it was clear that some of what she hoped for was a false hope, and that she eventually burned out, I found myself thinking, but yes, I want that. And then as she describes her fatigue, lack of patience and compassion, and resentment, I thought, yes, I’ve felt that. Her descriptions of what she’s doing in order to keep her faith have some resonance for me, but mostly I just found them inspiring and hopeful. Of course, the fact that she’s written a book would indicate that she’s a bit farther along that third part of the journey than I.