Reading Prize Winning Books–Part 3

I’ll start by saying the next three books I read for my prize winning challenge were all on the heavy side. All well-written and I learned a great deal about different places and times, but not exactly uplifting.

The first, Djinn Patrol on the Purple Line by Deepa Anappara won the Edgar Award for Best Novel in 2021. The Edgar Awards are given by the Mystery Writers of America and named for their patron saint, Edgar Allan Poe.

Nine-year old Jai lives with his family in India where there are too many people, dogs, and rickshaws. A smoggy sky blocks the sun, but from his doorway he can see the lights of the city’s high-rises where his mother works as a maid. Jai loves to watch reality police shows, so when one of his classmates goes missing, he enlists the help of his two best friends to try and find her. It almost seems like a game as they question people and gather clues, but when other children go missing, they begin to realize that something sinister is going on in their neighborhood.

This was a tough read but I’m glad I read it. The author worked as a reporter in India for many years. She was able to interview and talk with children who worked as scavengers or begged in the streets. She soon learned that around 180 children disappear in India every day, so she wrote this book to give them a voice and to make others aware of this problem.

The Nickel Boys by Colson Whitehead. Pulitzer Prize for Fiction in 2020.

This story takes place in Florida in the 1960’s and is based on the history of a real reform school which operated there for 111 years. Elwood Curtis, abandoned by his parents but raised by his grandmother, Elwood believes the words of Dr. Martin Luther King–he is as good as anyone. Given an opportunity to enroll in the local black college, Elwood believes his future is bright, but when someone gives him what seems to be an innocent ride, his whole world comes crashing down.

Sent to the Nickel Academy, Elwood is hopeful that he can do his time, keep up his studies, and get out soon. Unfortunately, Nickel Academy is a place of nightmares rather than reform and hope. This is only my second book by Whitehead, but I love his writing and look forward to reading more of his books. The following quote is from Whitehead on how and where he got the idea for the book.

“This book is fiction and all the characters are my own, but it was inspired by the story of the Dozier School for Boys in Marianna, Florida. I first heard of the place in the summer of 2014 and discovered Ben Montgomery’s exhaustive reporting in the Tampa Bay Times. Check out the newspaper’s archive for a firsthand look. Mr. Montgomery’s articles led me to Dr. Erin Kimmerle and her archaeology students at the University of South Florida. Their forensic studies of the grave sites were invaluable and are collected in their Report on the Investigation into the Deaths and Burials at the Former Arthur G. Dozier School for Boys in Marianna, Florida. It is available at the university’s website.” Colson Whitehead


The Known World by Edward P. Jones. Won the Pulitzer for Fiction in 2004.

“A man does not learn very well, Mr. Robbins. Women, yes, because they are used to bending with whatever wind comes along. A woman, no matter the age, is always learning, always becoming. But a man, if you will pardon me, stops learning at fourteen or so. He shuts it all down, Mr. Robbins. A log is capable of learning more than a man. To teach a man would be a battle, a war, and I would lose.” Fern Elston

Wow! I enjoyed this much more than I thought I would. Again, another great piece of writing. Jones takes a few facts about Virginia in the early 1800’s & creates a county much as Faulkner did in his books. It’s a story about slavery, (including black people owning slaves), families, small towns, greed, love, hate, and everything in between. Though not as long as some books written like this, I could see it being serialized on one of the many streaming networks in the vein of Roots or Lonesome Dove. 5 stars

I have now covered nine of the twelve prize-winning books I challenged myself to read this year. (I am currently reading my twelth). It has been interesting to see which books have won prizes and which have come out on top from both the long and short lists. Obviously, much has to do with the judges which change from year to year. Does knowing a book has won a certain prize inspire you to read it? Especially (or maybe only) if it wins in a genre you prefer? Or does that even interest you at all? What does it mean for a book to win a prize? It definitely puts them on people’s radar and many which had been virtually unknown go on to become best-sellers. Fair or not?

Favorite Books of 2022 (so far)

For the first half of 2022, I read 89 books (which I know is rather extreme, even for me). Instead of waiting until the end of the year to round up my favorites, I decided to put together a list from the first half of the year. I list all the books I read each month on one of my goodreads groups–the good, the bad, and, yeah, the ugly–but I will only list my favorites here. Two of the books I already reviewed in my posts on reading prize-winning books, so feel free to skip those two (unless I haven’t already convinced you to read them).

These are books that are new to me (no rereads), and I’m listing them in the order I read them.

First up, an audio book I started during the Christmas season but didn’t finish until January: Christmas Shopaholic by Sophie Kinsella (narrator Nathalie Buscombe). Really enjoyed listening to the shenanigans of Becky Brandon nee Bloomwood. She is to host the family Christmas for the first time which is stressful enough, but everyone in her family (along with her best friend) has ideas from what to serve and how to make it to everything in between. Before long, hardly anyone is speaking to one another, but Becky is determined to make everyone happy and have the best Christmas ever.

Firekeeper’s Daughter Angeline Boulley YA; indigenous; mystery. (Since I read this book it has won several awards, including the Edgar for Best Young Adult Novel, 2022). Danuis Fontaine is an unenrolled tribe member (this is important) who has a hard time fitting in with either her hometown or the nearby Ojibwe reservation. She was a star hockey player on her high school team and now wants to study medicine, but decides to enroll at a community college, so she can stay home to help her mother and grandmother. When she witnesses a murder, she is forced to help the FBI with their investigation of drug dealing on the reservation.

The Broken Girls by Simone St. James St. James. St. James is a favorite author and I greatly enjoyed this one. A dual timeline in Vermont–one in 1950 & the other 2014. Idlewild Hall is a boarding school for unwanted girls in 1950. Amid rumors that it is haunted, one of the girls disappears and little attempt is made to find her.
In 2014, journalist Fiona cannot stop thinking about the murder of her sister though it has been 20 years. The murderer was found and is in prison, but she still feels there is more to the story. Good suspense with St. James’ usual air of creepiness.

Hamnet by Maggie O’Farrell; Winner of the Women’s Prize for Fiction in 2020. (Reviewed earlier in prize winning post). I’ve read two books by O’Farrell and loved them both, so plan to read more soon. This one is based on the life of William Shakespeare and his family. Shakespeare had twins, Judith and Hamnet. We know Hamnet died when he was 12 but little else. The rest of this story comes from O’Farrell’s vivid imagination.

Cloud Cuckoo Land by Anthony Doerr was a finalist for the National Book Award for Fiction in 2021. I’ve read plenty of books with a dual time-line but this was different in several ways. There are three stories told: one in Constantinople in the fifteenth century; one in present-day Idaho; and one on an interstellar ship decades in the future. The common links between these stories are books, stories, and libraries. I did write down the time-lines and main characters on an index card until I got them straight in my head. Once I got into the story though, I enjoyed the ride.

City of Brass S.A. Chakraborty. The first in a trilogy, Nahri doesn’t believe in magic in spite of the unusual powers she has and uses as a con woman in 18th century Cairo. When she accidentally summons a djinn warrior, she’s has no choice but to accept the fact that there is more to the world than she knows or believed.

Running for their lives, Nahri learns not only are their many creatures she had previously known nothing about, there are places as well, and one of them, Daevabad, the city of brass has a hold on her and the djinn is bringing her there; like it or not.



This Tender Land by William Kent Krueger. It’s the summer of 1932 in Minnesota where Native American children are forcibly taken from their parents and placed in the Lincoln Indian Training School. Albert and Odie, orphan brothers, are two white faces who are also there. Albert tries to live peacefully, but Odie stays in trouble, no matter what the punishment. As things grow worse for Odie, tragedy happens and the brothers, along with their mute friend, Mose, steal a canoe and head for the Mississippi, hoping to find a real home. To make their situation more complicated, they also bring Emmy, a small girl who has troubles of her own.

After taking a few weeks to read the first 200 pages, I flew through the last 250 in a few days. The book is not hard to get into–just such depressing subject matter, I had to put it down a few times. I didn’t think those kids would ever get a break! Overall, I really enjoyed it and appreciate the research Krueger did to give a good picture of the Depression years and the shame of the “schools” for indigenous children.

The Lost Man Jane Harper. Three brothers are working to make a living in the harsh Australian desert. One of them is found dead from the heat. What makes his death suspicious are two things: one, he knew the area and the dangers. Two, his car was nearby, fully stocked with food and water and started up with no problem. Intense family drama as everyone looks at each other with growing suspicion.

The Impossible Us Sarah Lotz Since I put this on hold with Libby, I’m sure I heard about it somewhere but had forgotten why by the time I got it. The good thing about that is, I didn’t really know what it was about and it took me by surprise in a good way. Nick, a failed writer and husband, sends off an angry email. Bee, a serial dater and dress maker, receives it. She’s not the intended recipient but she responds anyway. Some snarky banter ensues and soon Nick and Bee become friends. Eventually they discuss meeting in person, but both are concerned about messing up a good thing. Once they finally agree, it turns out they were right but in a way they could never have imagined. The only other thing I will say about this story (since some people avoid all things fantastical) is that it involves magical realism? Or something. I loved it, but if that’s not your thing, there’s the warning. Definitely not your typical romance.

Doomsday Book by Connie Willis. I reviewed this book in an earlier post about prize winning books, so this is a repeat for all you faithful readers. Feel free to skip to next book.This book won the Hugo Award for Best Novel 1993; Nebula Award for Best Novel; and Locus Award for Best Science Fiction Novel.
Doomsday Book was a bit of a slog at times, but overall, I enjoyed it. A book of time travel where a young woman, Kivrin, is sent to the Middle Ages, but, unfortunately, lands in 1348, the beginning of the Black Death. Meanwhile, back in London, an unknown virus breaks out and quarantine is placed around Oxford, making it impossible to find out what has happened to Kivrin, never mind bringing her back. I loved the characters and was amused at some of the predictions Willis made back in the 90’s (in her world, the only improvement on phones was a visual and this was supposed to be in the 2050’s), and the way a pandemic was handled in this futuristic England. The descriptions of the Black Death made me thankful the pandemic we are facing, as bad as it is, is hardly so grim.

The Night She Disappeared by Lisa Jewell. Dual time-line but only two years apart. In 2017, Tallulah goes out with her boyfriend and father of her baby, leaving the baby with her mother, Kim. They never come home. The next morning, Kim frantically begins to look for her daughter but all she learns is that she was last seen going to a party in the woods called Dark Place.
In 2019, Sophie has just moved to the area with her boyfriend who is the new head teacher at a boarding school. Going for a walk, she finds a sign with an arrow, saying, “Dig here.”
I listened to the audio which is excellent and narrated by Joanne Froggatt of Downton Abbey fame. Great suspense and family drama.

So, the first half of the year has brought me some fun, suspenseful, and entertaining reading. I’m looking forward to finding and finishing more great books for this year, and believe I might break my own personal reading record. I know I will hit 100 soon and that’s at least a month before last year.

How is your reading life shaping up in 2022?

Reading Prize Winners: Part Two

I wrote in a previous post of the twelve prize-winning books I challenged myself to read this year and gave a quick review of the first three I read. Here are the next three.

Interpreter of Maladies by Jhumpa Lahiri won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction in 2000. It also won the Puddly Award for Short Stories in 2001 and the PEN/Hemingway Award for Debut Novel in 2000. This group of short stories portray the immigrant experience, specifically those from India to the U.S. Usually in a group of short stories, there are not only some I like more than others, there are a few I may not like it all. This book proved the exception as I found every story well-written and enjoyed them all.

Piranesi by Susanna Clarke won the Women’s Prize for Fiction in 2021. This is an odd little book (which, in fairness, I knew going in), but I can’t say I ever really warmed to it. I would have liked to have read this with a group, as I am sure it could generate some good conversation, but in spite of its short nature, I believe it would be a hard sell for the two groups I am currently in.

For most of the book, there are only two characters. Piranesi is the narrator of the story and he lives in a building which seems to be a never-ending maze. If that’s not enough, it is built on (in?) an ocean and knowing and understanding the tides is critical. Piranesi has lived there long enough to find his way around and to understand the tides.

The other character doesn’t live there but visits Piranesi twice a week to ask Piranesi to help him with some research. Piranesi only calls this man “The Other”. When Piranesi finds evidence of the existence of another person, things begin to change between P and The Other; and not in a good way.

Doomsday Book by Connie Willis won the Hugo Award for Best Novel in 1993 as well as the Locus Award for Best Science Fiction Novel. It also won the Nebula Award for Best Novel in 1992.

I admit, Doomsday Book was a bit of a slog at times, but overall, I enjoyed it. A book of time travel where a young woman, Kivrin, is sent to the Middle Ages, but, unfortunately, lands in 1348, the beginning of the Black Death. Meanwhile, back in London, an unknown virus breaks out and quarantine is placed around Oxford, making it impossible to find out what has happened to Kivrin, never mind bringing her back. I loved the characters and was amused at some of the predictions Willis made back in the 90’s (in her world, the only improvement on phones was a visual and this was supposed to be in the 2050’s), and the way a pandemic was handled in this futuristic England. The descriptions of the Black Death made me thankful the pandemic we are facing (as bad as it is) is hardly so grim.
Interesting that there are so many extremely negative reviews on goodreads for this book that won so many awards. I think sometimes people try too hard to read books that just aren’t right for them. Or maybe they just enjoy writing negative reviews.
5 stars for me.

Reading Prize Winning Books: Part 1

One of my personal reading challenges for 2022 has been to read some books that have won different awards through the years. I chose twelve, rather randomly (but mostly based on books I already own). The prizes include Pulitzers, a couple of Hugos, and a Booker. At almost the halfway point of the year, I have read six. In this post, I will list the first three I read and give a brief synopsis and review. The whole list can be found on my goodreads annual reading challenge in the group “On the Same Page”.

In January, I read Half of a Yellow Sun by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, an Orange Prize winner in 2007. The Orange Prize (now known as the Women’s Prize for Fiction) is awarded annually in the United Kingdom to a female author of any nationality for the best original full-length novel. Adichie’s historical fiction novel tells of the struggle in Nigeria in the 1960’s when Biafra tried to assert their independence. The characters make the story come to life though like any story concerning war, very sad and heart-breaking.

In February, I read Hamnet by Maggie O’Farrell, winner of the Women’s Prize for Fiction in 2020. I throughly enjoyed O’Farrell’s take on Shakespeare’s family life. Known details of Shakespeare’s family are sparse, but the fact that he had twins and that one of them, Hamnet, died as a young boy is well-known. O’Farrell takes this family tragedy and brings the characters and the Elizabethean time period to life. Even knowing this would be a tough read (the death of a child), I found the writing beautiful and the characters and their relationships with each other skillfully drawn. I read my first book by O’Farrell last year & thought it was amazing, so I definitely plan on reading the rest of her backlist.

In March, I read Silver Birch, Blood Moon, a fantasy anthology edited by Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling. This won the World Fantasy Award for Best Anthology in 2000. I would say these are “dark fairy tales” but I think unless they’ve been Disneyfied, all fairy tales are fairly dark. I enjoyed these stories, written mostly by familiar authors but several were new to me. Who knew there could be so many takes on The Frog Prince?

I’ll report on the next three I’ve read next week.

My Favorite Books of 2021

It’s that time of the year when everyone is making lists of their favorites or what they consider the best of . . . My favorite reads from the past year are a bit all over the place since I read from many genres, but I suppose it’s no surprise that many of these are historical fiction. I’ve finished 142 books this year, but I didn’t try to pick out 21 of the best. (I came close though). These were not (necessarily) books published in 2021, but books I read in 2021. I will list them (in no particular order) along with a short review.

The Beacon of Alexandria by Gillian Bradshaw, first published in 1986.

Historical fiction taking place in the 4th century AD. A young woman wants to be a doctor, but women aren’t allowed to study medicine, so she disguises herself as a eunuch and leaves her home in Ephesus to go to Alexandria where she hopes to find someone who will take her on as an apprentice. She soon apprentices to a Jewish doctor, becomes caught up in church politics and has to flee again. This time she finds herself as an army doctor for the Romans, but life continues to be complicated. I have loved every book I have read by Bradshaw and this is no exception. Great characters and interesting historical background.

The Truest Pleasure by Robert Morgan (1995) takes place in North Carolina after the Civil War and into the 20th century. Ginny’s father has returned from the Civil War but keeping up their farm in the western North Carolina mountains is a huge task for the two of them. When she meets Tom (whose father didn’t return from the war), their attraction for each other and the land are enough for them to marry. Though Ginny wonders at times if Tom was really more attracted to her father’s land than her, they continue to work at their marriage. Their struggles come when Tom becomes obsessed with making money, and Ginny wants to spend time at Pentecostal tent meetings. Both see the other’s passion as foolishness.

The Night Watchman Louise Erdrich (2020; Pulitzer Prize for Fiction 2021). My first book by Lousie Erdrich. Erdrich based her story on her grandfather and his fight to stop a bill in Congress which wanted to terminate Native Americans in the name of freedom. It is 1953 and Thomas Wazhashk, a Chippewa Council member and a night watchman at a jewel bearing plant near the Turtle Mountain Reservation in North Dakota learns of a bill that threatens the rights of Native Americans to their land. He meets with others on the council to try and decide what they can do to stop this. Another main character, Pixie or Patrice, also works at the jewel bearing plant and desires to do something with her life besides get married and have kids. She has an older sister, Vera, who has disappeared in the city of Minneapolis, so Patrice decides to try to find her. What she finds is exploitation and soon needs to escape herself. Great characters and a fascinating story.

The Vanishing Act of Esme Lennox by Maggie O’Farrell (2013). I’ve heard a lot about O’Farrell (even before she won the Women’s Prize for Fiction last year), but this was my first book by her, and I couldn’t put it down.

While taking care of everyday business at her vintage clothing shop, Iris Lockhart receives a letter, then a phone call. Cauldstone Hospital is closing and they need to know what she wants to do with her great-aunt Esme. Iris is sure there is some mistake as she has never heard of this woman. She soon learns that her grandmother’s claims of being an only child were false and that her sister had been committed (and ignored) to this hospital over sixty years ago. Once she meets Esme and does some research, she is horrified to learn how little it took for a family to get rid of an unwanted and embarrassing relative. 

O’Farrell tells Esme’s story through flashbacks, some from Esme’s viewpoint and others through her sister’s whose mind is now clouded with dementia. I found her storytelling compelling and engaging, though, like Iris, I was also horrified to think of the many (mostly) women  who may have ended up in institutions such as this with no one to plead their cause. I will definitely be reading more from O’Farrell.

The White Woman on the Green Bicycle Monique Roffey (2009). This is the story of a marriage and also a snapshot of the history of Trinidad. I lived in Trinidad for a couple of years (the years portrayed at the end of the book) and I wish I had been able to read this then. I’m sure it would have given me a better understanding of the country’s history and politics.

Still, in spite of the unusual way it was told (the last years are told first), I found the story of George and Sabine compelling, sad, and relatable. From England, George is offered a job with his company in Trinidad and he promises his wife they will only be there for a couple of years. George immediately falls in love with the country, and Sabine–does not. She grits her teeth and determines to stick it out, but as the years go by, the strain is felt on their marriage. Fiction shortlist for Orange Prize in 2010.

The Ten Thousand Doors of January Alix E. Harrow (2019). Loved this stand alone fantasy. January is of mixed race and questionable origin being raised by a white man in London while her father travels the world finding unusual artifacts for this wealthy man. Is he a benefactor or a prison warden? January finds a door to another world early in her childhood but her guardian insists it is in her mind and when she goes back to find it, it has been destroyed. When January is 16, everything she knows is being questioned and her life and sanity become endangered. I could write more & more about this book, but if you want to read a good stand-alone fantasy, just read it!

Cutting for Stone Abraham Verghese (2009). Marion and Shiva Stone are twin brothers born in Ethiopia in 1954. Orphaned by their mother’s death and their father’s disappearance, they are raised by two doctors from the hospital where they were born, and not surprisingly, they both become interested in medicine though in different fields. Revolution and untold secrets cause Marion to have to flee to America where he learns more of his father’s history.
 

A fictionalized version of what might have happened when Agatha Christie first rode the Orient Express. Trying to escape the shame and hurt of her divorce, Christie rides incognito and soon meets two other women with secrets of their own. Together, they help each other out and even become involved in an archaeological dig when they reach Baghad.

I listened to several excellent audio books this year which was in no small part due to the excellent narrators. The first of my top five audio books: The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by Victoria Schwab (2020), narrated by Julia Whelan. In France, some 300 years ago, Addie is about to be married to a man not of her dreams. She runs into the forest and calls out for help though she has been warned never to call to the gods of the night. When a man in black offers to give her the life she wants in exchange for her soul, Addie gladly accepts, not understanding the consequences of such an agreement. She will have a (very) long life but will not be remembered by anyone who meets her.

Dark Tides by Philippa Gregory (2020), narrated by Louise Brealey. I reviewed the first in this two book series last year (Tidelands) which I also listened to on audio. Midsummer Eve 1670 at a warehouse on the River Thames, Alinor receives two unexpected visitors and neither are entirely welcome. James Avery is the lover who deserted her years earlier. The other is a Venetian woman who claims to be the widow of Alinor’s son, Rob. Alinor refuses to see the first and though outwardly she accepts the widow’s claims–inwardly, she does not believe her son is dead. Her daughter, however, is taken in by this glamourous Venetian, so Alinor must bide her time to learn what has truly happened to her son.

Born a Crime: Stories from a South African Childhood by Trevor Noah (2016). Though unfamiliar with Noah’s comedy routines, I had heard he read this memoir himself and did a great job. I totally agree that his reading was excellent and often humorous, but it is much deeper than just a comedy routine. Born to a black mother and a white father in apartheid South Africa, Noah’s birth was literally a crime. Noah tells what it was like growing up where his mother and grandmother often had to hide him to keep him from being taken away and themselves arrested. His mother plays a key role in his life and is a delightful character as well. Noah gets into many escapades, but his mother makes sure he gets an education and never wavers from making him learn and to always do his best.

When the Stars Go Dark by Paula McLain (2021), narrated by Marin Ireland (one of my favorite narrators). Anna is a missing persons detective. When a tragedy occurs in her life, she takes off and goes to a small town where she had felt comfortable and loved as a foster child in high school. One of the first things she sees there is a poster for a missing teen. Even though she is there to escape her own grief, she soon becomes involved in this case. She meets old friends and uncovers old secrets.

Honorable mentions: Silence of the Girls by Pat Barker (2018).

Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn (2012). Another that was excellent on audio. Narrated by Julia Wheland and Kirby Heyborne.

September by Rosamunde Pilcher (1990).

Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafron (2001).

Wintercombe by Pamela Belle (1988).

The last three were rereads, something I seemed to do more of this year. Happily, these three were still enjoyable and fun to read.

Happy New Year!

Looking on the Heart–A Book Review

Looking on the Heart is a commentary on 1 Samuel (a book in the Old Testament) by Dale Ralph Davis. I don’t think I’ve ever written a review on a commentary, but I’ve never read a commentary that so impressed and blessed me. Several reviews on goodreads mentioned how accessible and “easy to read” they found this commentary which is true but it is so much more.

1 Samuel is a book of history and prophecy, telling the stories of Samuel, a prophet and the last judge; of Israel’s first king, Saul; and the beginnings of their second king, David. Quite an important part of history for both Christians and Jews, but what does it have to do with us as Christians living in the 21st century?

From the beginning, Davis teaches that though we learn from all three main characters, we must be careful not to try and fit our own lives into what God was doing with them. What is important in reading any scripture is to learn what we can about God. “Once we see what scripture reveals about God we usually will see how it applies to us.” (p. 45) We are not prophets or kings, but in every story or happening, we can learn something about God in the way He interacted with His specially chosen people.

For example, in 1 Samuel 4 we read the story of the Israelites preparing to go to battle with the Philistines. Since the Philistines had just soundly beaten them (killing four thousand men), the Israelites decide to bring the Ark (a sacred artifact that represented God’s presence) into battle with them. The Israelites were not only beaten again, but they lost the Ark to the Philistines as well. So, what does this teach us about God? Mainly, that we can’t perform certain rituals or say the right words and expect God to perform for us. The Israelites didn’t seek God, and they demeaned the Ark by using it as a good-luck charm when going into battle.

“This is not faith but superstition. It is what I call rabbit-foot theology. When we, whether Israelites or Christians, operate this way, our concern is not to seek God but to control him, not to submit to God but to use him. So we prefer religious magic to spiritual holiness; we are interested in success not repentance.” (p.54)

We might read this story and think it doesn’t really apply to us because we don’t have an Ark to bring into battle, but if that’s all we see we will be missing the point. Do we not think if we ask God in a certain way or use just the right words or if we perform certain religious tasks (going to Sunday School, giving a tithe, etc), then surely He will respond to us and rescue us out of any situation?

Throughout this commentary, Davis points us to what God is doing–whether in the lives of Samuel, Saul, and David or in the nation of Israel. Learning more about God and His character is all we need from a commentary. Highly recommended.

Birds of a Feather

For anyone who innocently believes you can just call a flock of birds a “flock of birds,” I’m here to enlighten you. All birds are not alike and neither are their group names. Some of these names are as charming as some minor league baseball team names (looking at you Jacksonville Jumbo Shrimp) and others are, well, for the birds. (Sorry!)

So, how did these different names come about and why? Isn’t enough to know those are robins gathered round? Or do we need to know they are actually a ’round of robins’? (Though others state it is a ‘worm of robins’.)

As with many odd questions that pop in my mind, this is one that led me down a few rabbit trails, but, fortunately, others have already been down those trails and have done the necessary research to discover the origin of these terms, most notably James Lipton in his book, An Exaltation of Larks.

First, these are called “terms of venery” or “nouns of assembly” and these collective nouns don’t just pertain to birds but also animals and groups of people.

In the late Middle Ages, inventing animal group names started as a game, soon became a fad, and turned into a challenge which lasted a couple of centuries. (Please remember there were no entertaining blogs such as this one to read in those days).

As James Lipton put it in An Exaltation of Larks, “What we have in these terms is clearly the end result of a game that amateur philologists have been playing for over 500 years.”

To organize these terms and to make them more official, they were gathered together and published in works that the upper classes used to make sure they did not embarass themselves by using the wrong terms. (For example, it was considered bad form to call a “scurry of squirrels” a “bunch of squirrels”).The first of these was The Egerton Manuscript published in 1450.

“The terms were codified during the period when the river of words was approaching its greatest breadth, beginning in about 1450 with The Egerton Manuscript.” (Lipton)

Then came the The Book of St. Albans (also known as The Book of Hawking, Hunting, and Blasing of Arms) published in 1486 and containing 164 terms. Many of these terms were not for animals but groups of people and were meant to be humorous (“a sentence of judges”, “a melody of harpers,” “a gagle of women”). However, the book’s popularity caused them to become part of the Standard English lexicon.

But I digress. Back to the birds. Here are a few examples:

Group of hummingbirds: Charm (Not sure where this could have come from. The only groups, sorry, charms of hummingbirds I see are chasing each other wildly in what seems to be a pretty selfish defending of territory).

Woodpeckers: descent (Some say this is because they start at the top of a tree and come down, but I have definitely seen them ascend as well as descend).

Descent of Downy Woodpeckers

chickadees: banditry (This is seems oddly appropriate).

A pair of bandits

cardinals: college, deck, Vatican (Several choices here. I prefer a “Vatican of cardinals.”)

finches: charm, trembling

doves: cote, dole, dule, bevy, flight, and piteousness (We always call the ones at our feeder “the drama queens”).

Ducks: Ducks on the water are called a “paddling” or a “raft.” (Mallards have their own terms and as the different writers seem to disagree on this, I will not distinguish between the different types of ducks. This has become confusing enough as it is).

Flamingoes: flamboyance. A flamboyance of flamingoes. This is not easy to say (or spell). Go ahead. Try it a few times.

Hawks: kettle

Eagles: convocation

Owls: parliament (I would love to see a parliament of owls but I don’t really think they hang out together too much).

Crows: murder (This may be a bit unjust but still amusing).

Grackles: plague (We have definitely been plagued with these at our bird feeders).

plague of grackles

But what if you see a group of birds that are a mixed bag of bird types? Is there a correct nomenclature for that? Perhaps “bunch of birds” would do just fine in such cases.

Nuthatch trying to get in a party (or charm) of finches who have a chickadee as their bouncer.

As I mentioned, the naming of groups of birds is only one part of these fascinating collections or terms of venery. We also have a month of Sundays, a mountain of debt, a rash of dermatologists, a cackle of hyenas, a mass of priests, and (one of my personal favorites) a prophet ( or profit) of televangelists.

So, if you want to make sure you are calling all groups by their proper term of venery, check out Lipton’s book though you may be accused of telling a pack of lies if you try to open such a can of worms.

Reading Around the World: Korea

In March, #readingtheworld21 took me to Korea.

Upon my daughter’s recommendation I read In Order to Live: A North Korean Girl’s Journey to Freedom by Yeonmi Park. a memoir by a girl who fled communist North Korea to China and eventually made it to South Korea.

‘I am most grateful for two things: that I was born in North Korea, and that I escaped from North Korea.’

Yeonmi Park had no understanding of freedom or what it would be like to live somewhere where you had choices and could make decisions. She grew up being told what to do, what to think, and that their “beloved leader” was not only a political leader but their god. However, in spite of her family’s firm belief in their leader, starvation and the hope that life was better across the river (in China) led Yeonmi and her mother to escape their country, following her sister who had left earlier.

Unfortunately, though there was food in China, it was not quite the promised land they had hoped to find. Sex trafficking was rampant and left the two without many options. Still, with grit and determination, Park and her mother found ways to survive and eventually make their way to true freedom.

Park has since come to the U.S. and has become a leading human rights activist. If you want to hear more of Park’s story, there are several places to hear her on YouTube.

The Last Exiles is a work of fiction and could be considered a companion book to In Order to Live. Suja, a young journalist from an important family, meets Jin at the university in Pyongyang, and they fall in love. Though Suja realizes Jin is from a small village, she does not realize the depth of poverty and hunger his family (and others) face there.

When Jin is arrested and taken to prison, Suja is confused, sure there has been some mistake. When she hears of his escape, she determines to find a way out of North Korea to go and look for Jin.

Both of these books tell a grim story of life in North Korea, a life hard to imagine for those of us who live in freedom.

For another book that tells of a different time in the history of Korea, I recommend a past read, Pachinko. I wrote about this one in an earlier blog post: https://pmgilmer.com/2020/08/29/books-im-reading-august-2020/

How about you? Any books you can recommend about Korea or by Korean authors?

Reading Around the World: Mexico

I read two books from Mexico in the past few weeks for the #readtheworld21 challenge, but I am only going to review one here (I did write about both on Goodreads). The first one I enjoyed; the second I wanted to throw against the wall when I finished. I refrain from reviewing books I don’t like because I’m not interested in reading reviews of books not recommended by the reviewer. I find that a waste of time. This book has been popular and even made into a movie, so I’m doing it no harm in not recommending it.

Now on to my recommended read.

The Hummingbird’s Daughter by Luis Alberto Urrea is a story of legend combing historical fiction and magical realism. Urrea heard stories of his ancestor, Teresita Urrea, while growing up; the fantastical stories of her life and miracles. How much was true and how much legend, he set out to discover and spent some twenty years researching and writing her story.

Teresita was the illegitimate daughter of a young girl called Hummingbird and wealthy rancher, Tomas Urrea, during the late nineteenth century in Mexico, a time of unrest and the beginnings of a civil war. Abandoned by her mother, Teresita brought herself to the attention of Urrea and Huila, a curandero. Seeing Teresita’s gifts and potential, Huila teaches Teresita of herbs and healing and promises to help her cultivate her gifts. What leads to Teresita becoming the Saint of Cabora is told in dramatic fashion. Don’t be like me and miss the family tree in the front of the book until you’ve almost finished the book. I would have find this more helpful at the beginning when I was trying to keep names straight but somehow overlooked it.

In lieu of the book, I can’t recommend, let me do a repeat and make a case for one that was on my favorites’ list of 2020–The Murmur of Bees by Sofia Segovia, translated by Simon Bruni. Another story of magical realism and family, the tale begins when Nana Reja finds an abandoned baby under a bridge, covered in a blanket of bees. Though some are horrified both by the bees and the baby’s disfigured face, Simonopio is adopted by landowners who love him as their own. Simonopio soon becomes special, not only to his family but to the whole town. This one is also historical fiction taking place during the Mexican Revolution as well as the influenza of 1918.

I’m sure there are many books about and from Mexico that I need to add to my TBR. If you have any suggestions, please share!

Bird Watching: Beyond Quarantine

Much has been written about the hobbies people have started while in quarantine– everything from raising chickens to baking to bringing home a new puppy. Few of these hobbies are anything new and maybe some of us would have started them at some point in our lives anyway. We just needed a nudge to make us use our imaginations That many people will continue with these hobbies–finding a new joy or way of entertainment that doesn’t involve a screen–is one of the pluses of being forced to entertain ourselves. Much like when our parents told us to go outside and play, we found we could actually find something new thing to do without someone giving us a script.

male and female American goldfinch

Whether because of the enforced quarantine or because my kids are mostly grown and out of the house, I have been baking more (with some success and not a few disasters), and also have picked up birdwatching as a daily obsession. Last summer I bought a pair of binoculars and a North Carolina birdbook and began observing more closely all those feathered creatures around me. I could recognize a robin and a cardinal; knew the difference between a bluebird and a bluejay; but who knew there were several types of woodpeckers living nearby? And why had I never seen a goldfinch (which according to my birdbook is fairly common)? How could I have missed such a bright yellow color?

Male & Female Cardinals

Besides gazing with my binoculars and snapping some pictures, I’ve also been enjoying a few books (of course!) concerning birdwatching. I recently finished A Guide to the Birds of East Africa by Nicholas Drayson, a charming work of fiction that had me googling different birds (in Kenya) as two men had a contest on who could identify the most birds in a certain period. The winner would be able to ask a certain lady to a dance. I’m now reading a memoir, Field Notes From an Unintentional Birder by Julia Zarankin. Long before Covid, Zarankin discovered birdwatching in the midst of some other life-changing events. Though at first reluctant to align herself with this strange group of people who all seem to wear shirts decorated with birds as well as multi-pocketed vests and have an abnormal interest in the various optics of binoculars, Zarankin soon enough found herself enthralled with learning about the birds around her and what they could teach her about herself and her own migratory habits.

In my own backyard, we have several trees, but there is also an empty lot next door, our own little forest. But, as progress would have it, the lot has been sold and now trees are coming down. Trees which surely house some of these birds I’ve been watching and feeding. Yes, I know. I’m living in a house on land that also once held a small forest, and I go to stores where a forest along with its birds and other animals used to live, so I’m trying not to be hypocritical here. But I have learned a few things both in my birdwatching and hearing the crunch and crash of trees. I’m learning to be more observant of my surroundings and more aware of the details in God’s creation. After all, they’re not my birds or trees; they are His.

I’ve also enjoyed observing the response of these birds as parts of their world comes crashing in. At first, they were quiet and out of sight, but soon, even with a bulldozer ramming its way through, they continue to come to the feeders; first the courageous chickadees and titmice, followed by the downy woodpeckers and then even the hummingbirds. A chickadee even put up a vocal protest, chirping above the crunching of branches before he grabbed his share of seeds and flew off.

So, post quarantine, I will continue to watch and observe the birds around me, and I will even try another new baking project.

Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your Heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?” (Jesus in Matthew 6:26-27)

male downy woodpecker