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The books I read in December 2022

Each month my goal is to read five books on a variety of topics and from different genres. Here are the books I read in December 2022. If you click on the title, you’ll go to the longer post on More to Come. Enjoy.

Night Visions: Searching the shadows of Advent and Christmas (1998) by Jan L. Richardson is a series of daily meditations and blessings for the Advent and Christmas seasons. The author’s original artwork, reflections, poetry, and prayers accompany the reader from the beginning of Advent through Epiphany, inviting us to encounter the God who dwells in darkness as well as in daylight. Richardson writes that Advent is a season when something is on the horizon, but it is easy to miss. In her meditations, she encourages us. Stay. Sit. Linger. Tarry. Ponder. Wait. Behold. Wonder.


Christmas Stories (2021) by George Mackay Brown is a wonderful collection of seasonal short stories brought together for the first time in book form on the 100th anniversary of the Orkney writer’s birth. Mackay Brown was a writer who “attempted to capture and re-create the reality of his homeland” through religious and ritualistic themes. In love with the past, he uses his unique voice in these pieces originally commissioned for the Herald and the Tablet to bring the season to life. One Christmas in Birsay is excerpted for my Christmas Day 2022 post.


A Grief Observed (1961) by C.S. Lewis is a brief, poignant, and honest journal from the time following the death of his wife, the American poet Helen Joy Davidman. Lewis, the well-known Christian apologist and writer of the celebrated Chronicles of Narnia, works through his grief, the loss of meaning and faith, and his efforts to regain his footing in this world. It is highly personal, so much so that author Madeleine L’Engle writes in a thoughtful foreword that Lewis helped her understand that each experience of grief is unique. Still, there is a universality to it as well, as what Lewis describes feels so much like what so many have gone through in our period of mass death worldwide.


Peace Is Every Step: The Path of Mindfulness in Everyday Life (1991) by Thich Nhat Hanh shows us how to make positive use of the situations that usually pressure and antagonize us. This series of meditations, reflections, and stories from Nhat Hanh’s experiences as a peace activist, teacher, and community leader begins with simple techniques around basic human actions such as breathing, smiling, walking, and eating. But beyond dealing with basic tasks, Nhat Hanh asks us to consider how to use mindfulness for transformation, reorienting ourselves to the relationships around us.


Hidden Christmas: The Surprising Truth Behind the Birth of Christ (2016) by Timothy Keller was part of my Advent devotionals this year. Keller is a best-selling author, but he really isn’t my cup of tea. His fans find much to love about his work, but I found his approach to be moralistic. Keller spends a great deal of time telling us that we are not people who can pull ourselves together and live a moral and good life. I prefer James Alison’s look at the non-moralistic nature of Christianity.

More to come…

DJB


NOTE: To see which books I read in January, FebruaryMarch, April, MayJune, July, AugustSeptemberOctober, and November click on the links. Also check out my Ten tips for reading five books a month.


This Weekly Reader features links to recent articles, blog posts, or books that grabbed my interest or tickled my fancy. I hope you find something that makes you laugh, think, or cry. 


Photo by Paul Melki on Unsplash

A love letter to readers

Anyone who writes — whether they do it for a living or just for the hell-of-it* — appreciates those individuals who read their works. If writers say they do it for themselves and don’t care about feedback (or sales), they are probably lying.

When I write about a book on More to Come, I try to give positive feedback, highlighting the insights gleaned from these works. If I don’t find the book to be terribly helpful, I tend to follow the advice I learned from my parents: “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.”

In recent weeks I’ve been deeply touched by the positive feedback from friends and strangers alike who have sent comments or notes, usually through social media or email, concerning something I’ve written. This letter is my way of capturing a sampling of that thoughtful feedback while saying thank you to everyone who takes the time to read.


On December 20th, I posted a short piece of reflection after our twins reached their 30th birthday (Thirty years go by in the blink of an eye). On LinkedIn I added an introductory note to suggest that as we work to build our careers, it is too easy to neglect other very important pieces of our lives. Recognizing and celebrating life’s milestones is one way to ensure a healthier work-life balance.

That post brought forward a number of heartfelt comments, and a former colleague’s note really hit home.

David, its as if you were in the room with me 30 minutes ago as I sobbed about the pressure for my family to take a back seat to my work. I feel firmly about the work life balance but I was starting to second guess it today. Then your post appeared on my screen by what I suppose is just happenstance. Know that it had an impact on me at the exact perfect moment. Cheers to you, your family, and your life perspective!

I told her that getting the work-life balance right is hard and I failed many times during my career. But her note certainly brought a tear to my eye.


Yesterday I posted my annual New Year’s reflection on the rules I use for how I want to live my life (We live remarkable lives). It considers the eight rules I developed a decade ago and points toward posts that reinforce their importance.

A friend who was one of the early pioneers in expanding the reach of the International National Trusts Organisation wrote to say that he found the “we live remarkable lives” comment to be “so true.” He passed the post to a mutual friend, along with encouragement to continue blogging.

Another former colleague wrote,

I love reading your annual posts, and am reminded every year how much I agree with your eight rules — particularly the reminder to live with gratitude, and to move six days of the week. Mental and physical health are essential to living well in other parts of your life. Thanks for sharing!

This comment pleased me immensely…and not only because she agrees with my life rules! Another friend told of how he contrived “Four F’s” for his life: Family, Faith, Finances, Fun, and later added Friends and Fitness. 

Among the most moving was a friend who wrote to say this writing touched her after a “humdinger of a holiday season.” Her health — ironclad for 55 years — suddenly took a difficult turn, with surgery this week and treatment that was to begin later this month. She ended by noting that she was grateful and thankful. I am also grateful and thankful — more than she can ever know — for her note and our friendship.


When I posted my annual list of the books I read (The 2022 year-end reading list) on LinkedIn and Candice’s Facebook page**, I asked readers to suggest the best, most memorable, or most surprising book they read during 2022. The response was immediate and wide-ranging. Here are the more than 35 titles (and counting) my readers suggested, in alphabetical order:


These examples don’t account for the regular conversations I have with a range of individuals: a retired psychologist, priests, writers, mentors, a development professional and rabid reader, a former Division Director at NEH, professors, editors, a book publisher, Candice’s childhood friends, my childhood friends, former colleagues, current clients, a retired conservationist from the Getty, a Main Street enthusiast, recipients of my monthly email newsletters.

You all enrich my life with your thoughts and feedback. I can’t thank you enough. But I’ll keep trying.

More to come…

DJB


*If you haven’t noticed, I fall into the latter category.


**See Farewell Facebook and Five reasons I’m not on Twitter for an explanation.


Image by Mar from Pixabay

We live remarkable lives

Poet and essayist Jane Hirshfield suggests that “our human task” is to acknowledge “the fullness of things.”

Kathryn Schulz delves into this mystery by observing that the world “is full of beauty and grandeur and also wretchedness and suffering; we know that people are kind and funny and brilliant and brave and also petty and irritating and horrifically cruel. We live remarkable lives,” she writes, “because life itself is remarkable.” She counts her days as exceptional even when they are ordinary.

Philip Roth describes it as “Life is and.”

Acknowledgment of the fullness of life has been on my mind as we enter 2023.

The New Year is a time when many begin thinking of resolutions, perhaps focused on personal ways to respond to our current reality. Since 2013, I have taken a different route. That year I established several rules of how I want to live day-to-day. Rules for the road of life, if you will.

Computer wallpaper with DJB’s life rules

They came as the result of a more intentional focus on life’s journey rather than relying on a changing list of resolutions to respond to the challenges of the moment. These personal guidelines are not quite principles but rather serve as reminders of how I want to live over time.

Here are eight stories from the last twelve months of More to Come that acknowledge the fullness of life in the context of my personal rules. They are given to provide hope in the remarkable nature of life, even in the midst of trying, liminal times.


Helping hands (photo credit: James Chan from Pixabay)

Rule #1. Be grateful. Be thankful. Be compassionate. Every day.

Rule #1 is first for a reason. Gratitude requires intentionality and it encourages everyday action, not just when things are going well.

In An attitude of gratitude (November 24th), Richard Rohr suggests that a pre-existent attitude of gratitude is necessary in order to be thankful in difficult times. It takes a deliberate choice of love over fear, a desire to be positive instead of negative. If we are not “radically grateful” every day, Rohr writes, resentment always takes over. Fighting the impulse to see the world in the worst way takes effort. Every single day.


Rule #2. Exercise six days a week for the rest of your life. 

My main form of exercise is daily walking, and I’m trying to walk “at the speed of life,” as noted in The mindfulness of breath and steps (January 24th). When we run, it is easy to stay hidden. Walking at the speed of life helps us know ourselves, know others, and be known by others.


Rule #3. Listen more than you talk.

This is a rule I break frequently. When that happens, I am poorer for the experience.

One way I have listened this year is in reading books from writers with very different perspectives than mine. Listening to new voices (October 5th) captures one of the ways I was opened to new ways of thinking.


Rule #4. Spend less than you make. 

I am coming to understand the varied roles money plays in our lives. In We have nothing to lose but our illusions (June 4th), I came face-to-face with the compelling arguments of philosopher and historian Matthew Stewart. Many of us who comprise the top 9.9% of the population in terms of wealth are doing many things to entrench inequality in our system. Instead of government by oligarchs, collective action through a democratically elected government has been and must remain an indispensable tool in advancing the cause of equal justice.


Rule #5. Quit eating crap! Eat less of everything else. 

I like food. Not in the way that Justice Brett “I like beer” Kavanaugh likes his drink of choice, but I do have a challenge with occasionally eating too much.

However, this rule has come to mean more to me than just “watch your calories.” Thanks to Christopher Carter‘s book that I reviewed in Race, faith, and food justice (November 16th), I’ve begun thinking about this life rule in terms of our broken food production system. Until now, my thinking has only touched the surface of the problem, and seldom in ways that reach across racial and class lines to address systemic issues.


Running Dog Guitar Ought-3
My Running Dog Guitar Ought-3 (photo credit: Running Dog Guitars)

Rule #6. Play music.

The Fretboard Journal has been a part of my life since 2005. In those 17 years I’ve come to appreciate that when that simple white protective mailer shows up in the mailbox, it opens up my musical world. I celebrated the 50th issue of this gem of a magazine in Our little universe (July 2nd) in part because every time an issue arrives, I’m inspired to pick up one of my instruments and play.


Rule #7. Connect and commit. 

Every morning I walk by one of our community’s strangest memorials: a bust of a street-dependent person, Norman Lane, who lived from 1911 to 1987 and spent the last 25 years of his life in downtown Silver Spring. The plaque below the bust is entitled Remember the loving kindhearted forbearance of the people of Silver Spring. I used a phrase from that remembrance — An odd-shaped piece that never quite fit into society’s jigsaw puzzle (September 12th) — to consider the nature of connection, commitment, and forbearance.


Rule #8. Don’t be a grumpy old man. Enjoy life! 

Our year in photos — 2022 (November 21st) hopefully conveys the joy and wonderment I’m experiencing at this stage of life. I am working to live into Kathryn Schulz’s admonition that each day is exceptional. We truly live remarkable lives … because life itself is remarkable.

Best wishes for a wonder-filled and remarkable 2023. As you welcome the New Year, please be grateful, thankful, and compassionate every day.

More to come…

DJB

Image of rainbow by Cindy Lever from Pixabay

Observations from … December 2022

A summary of what was included on More to Come in the month of December 2022. If you receive my monthly email update, you can skip this post.

As winter settles in I’m sending holiday greetings and best wishes for a 2023 full of joy and wonder. I also want to say thanks for reading these monthly emails and sampling the eclectic mix of observations that make up More to Come. I so enjoy the comments and conversations that come from so many of you.

There was a lot on my mind in December, so let’s jump in.


TOP READER VIEWS

Two posts in December outpaced all others in terms of reader views. The first was a short piece from December 20th to celebrate the 30th birthday of our twins. Thirty years goes by in the blink of an eye, with its call to celebrate the amazement of our lives and to savor every moment, resonated with so many of you. In a similar vein, Embrace the liminality in lifemy review of Kathryn Schulz’s tender and searching memoir Lost & Found ― also struck a chord with a number of readers. Schulz ends this generous and perceptive work by noting that disappearance reminds us to notice, transience to cherish, fragility to defend. “We are here to keep watch, not to keep.”


TIME OF YEAR FOR THE “BEST OF 2022” LISTS

December is when many newspapers, magazines, and online newsletters try and capture the year that is quickly passing with “best of” lists. More to Come is no exception. I went back to the reader view stats and came up with the following from this year:

  • Best of the blog: Top ten posts of 2022 is a look at the top ten reader favorites from the past year. There are posts covering travels, books, places that matter, and family included in this look at what tickled your fancy.
  • The Saturday Soundtrack 2022 top ten highlighted the top music posts from the year, which ranged from The Beatles to spooky Halloween favorites, from Joni Mitchell to a grunge rocker covering a roots musician’s song about Lincoln’s assassination. (That last one’s weird, IKR!)

THE WORLD GOES ON

Because of the times we live in, the holiday season didn’t stop the news. While there were many important events taking place around the world, I focused on two of the more historic moments.

  • Gratitude to Ukraine was an essay written after a speech to a joint meeting of Congress by Ukraine’s President Volodymyr Zelenskyy. I referenced distinguished historian Timothy Snyder‘s piece on gratitude for what Ukraine has done to put the speech in context. Zelenskyy cited American history ― the Battle of Saratoga, Pearl Harbor, and the Battle of the Bulge ― to point to similarities in our stories. Most importantly, President Zelenskyy reminded Americans of who we say we are, and why that matters to the world.
  • Earlier in December, I wrote about Senator Raphael Warnock’s historic election in Georgia in Get up. Get dressed. Put your shoes on. Get ready. “Because we always have a path to make our country greater, against unspeakable odds, here we stand together,” Senator Warnock said on election night, as he spoke truth to America. Warnock is a Baptist minister, and his speeches are mini-sermons on the importance of democracy and every person getting a vote: “I believe that democracy is the political enactment of a spiritual idea. The notion that each of us has within us a spark of the divine…We all have value. And if we have value, we ought to have a voice.”

BOOKS, BOOKS, AND MORE BOOKS

I touched on the work of a number of authors in December.

  • In the realm of love was my review of C.S. Lewis’s A Grief Observed. Author Madeleine L’Engle writes in a thoughtful foreword that Lewis helped her understand that each experience of grief is unique. Still, there is a universality to it as well, as what Lewis describes feels so much like what so many have gone through in our recent period of mass death worldwide.
  • Looking for life in the winter shadows was an Advent-focused post that examined works by Jan Richardson and Timothy Keller. I found the former better than the latter.  Finally, my Christmas greeting this year ― sent your way on Christmas morning as Happy Christmas!   ― was an excerpt from Orkney writer George Mackay Brown’s Christmas Stories. I discovered Mackay Brown during our tour of Scotland and Norway this past spring, and his place-based seasonal stories showcased the power of his writing and the richness of the landscape that inspired his storytelling.

Three posts during the month were of the “making a list” variety:


AND LET’S END WITH SOME MUSIC

In addition to the top ten listing above, there were three Saturday Soundtrack essays for December. On the 3rd I wrote Celebrating Paul McCartney, building off an essay by an English writer who provided 64 reasons that the famous Beatle is so important. Don’t worry, I only highlight a handful. Then A gift of new favorites for 2022 was a look at a few of the new artists I’ve discovered in the past two years. Finally, Musical gifts for Yuletide takes a look at how some acoustic and roots musicians celebrate the season.


CONCLUSION

In these liminal times, remember to treat others with kindness, undertake some mindful walking every day, recognize the incredible privilege that most of us have, and think about how to put that privilege to use for good. Women, people of color, LGBTQ individuals, immigrants, and others can feel especially vulnerable…because they are. Finally, work hard for justice and democracy because the fight never ends.

More to come…

DJB


You can follow More to Come by going to the small “Follow” box that is on the right-hand column of the site (on the desktop version) or at the bottom right on your mobile device. It is great to hear from readers, and if you like them feel free to share these posts on your own social media platforms. 


For the November 2022 summary, click here.


Photo by Michael Niessl on Unsplash

The Saturday Soundtrack 2022 top ten

Saturday Soundtrack began as a diversion. Or perhaps pandemic therapy. But as I’ve written before, it has become a real labor of love.* 2022 was the third full year of my commitment to focus more on the music in my life and share those explorations with the readers of More to Come.

At this time of reflection and “best of” lists, we once again turn to see what you — the readers and listeners — enjoyed by highlighting the ten posts with the most views from this year’s Saturday Soundtrack series, beginning with….

#10 — Just rattle your jewelry (September 10th)

The news of Queen Elizabeth II’s passing brought back a reminder of John Lennon‘s wickedly funny commentary when the Beatles played their Royal Command performance in 1963 after receiving their MBEs. Queen Elizabeth wasn’t at the 1965 performance following the ceremony, but the Queen Mother was and her reaction to John’s comment at the 15 second mark is priceless.


#9 — Wondrous Love revisted (September 17th)

The old Southern Harmony tune Wondrous Love sits right at the top of the list of my favorite songs, no matter the genre. Written with a melody that sounds both traditional and modern, it is one that sticks deep in the soul.

I featured several versions of the song, beginning with the traditional Sacred Harp treatment and ending with my favorite of the traditional takes, from the bluegrass band Blue Highway.


#8 — Celebrating ghost, goblins, and other things that go bump in the night (October 29th)

I was on the road pretty much the entire month of October, so my take on Halloween music had to rely on posts from earlier years. That seemed to be okay, given that it made the top ten. I remain a big fan of Elise LeGrow’s Who Do You Love? as well as Rhiannon Giddens’ take on O Death.


#7 — Lincoln’s Funeral Train (April 16th)

#6 — Classified (August 13th)

These two really go together, as they both relate, in different ways, to current events. I posted the Soundtrack on Norman Blake‘s song about the funeral train of Abraham Lincoln on April 16th, the day after the anniversary of Lincoln’s assassination. While I always enjoyed the Blake original, in 2017 Greg Graffin — lead singer for the band Bad Religion — released a powerful cover of Blake’s tune on his solo album Millport with images of what we’ve lost and what was at stake in the fight to save democracy.

Then in August, I had some fun with the news about Donald Trump’s stealing of classified documents from the government in a post that featured the song Classified by James Booker, the man none other than Dr. John described as “the best black, gay, one-eyed junkie piano genius New Orleans has ever produced.” 

For some reason it just seemed appropriate, and the MTC readers seemed to agree. After the posting, a dear friend wrote to recommend this documentary about James Booker.


#5 — Echoes of the past (April 30th)

The treasured Dentzel Carousel at Glen Echo Park — fresh off celebrating its 100th anniversary in 2021 — opened on a glorious spring day for another summer of joy, laughter, and memories, as it has done for generations of Washingtonians. We were there to welcome the carousel on the first day of the new season, and I celebrated with a Soundtrack posting featuring carousel organs and music.


#4 — Hell on Church Street (January 8th)

To the five exceptional musicians who make up the Punch Brothers, the late Tony Rice was not only a hero, but a friend. And that’s how the band’s Hell on Church Street tribute album to Tony Rice came to fruition: five musicians wanting to honor a friend. Hell on Church Street is the band’s reimagining of, and homage to, the late bluegrass great Tony Rice’s landmark solo album Church Street Blues. It was intended as both its own work of art and a gift to Rice, who died that Christmas.

The title track was written by Norman Blake (see #7 above), and here’s the band’s moving rendition of the song. Stick around to the end to hear Chris Eldridge provide his own homage to the great flatpicker.


#3 — The intimate and melodic mandolin stylings of John Reischman (January 22nd)

John Reischman first came to my attention as the mandolinist in the original configuration of the Tony Rice Unit on 1981’s Still Inside. He has remained an active mandolinist and composer in the decades following that early work. The release of a new album in 2022 was the reason for this visit. Here Reischman plays one of his signature compositions, Salt Spring, with the incredibly talented Sierra Hull.


#2 — Life is just as strange as folk music (May 28th)

This is one of those posts where I was focused on a place but added the music and turned it into a Soundtrack post as well. We were visiting Troldhaugen (or the Troll Hill), Edvard Grieg‘s home outside Bergen, Norway. The composer’s cottage overlooks a beautiful lake and would be a magical place to write for any creative individual. If you watch this video of the famous In the Hall of the Mountain King from “Peer Gynt” you’ll see photos taken around the house and grounds.


#1 — Joni Jam (August 6th)

As the entire world now knows, Joni Mitchell performed at the 2022 Newport Folk Festival for her first public performance since suffering a debilitating brain aneurysm in 2015. A selection of personal favorites from the show made this the top Saturday Soundtrack post of 2022.

My favorite performance from the show is the classic Mitchell tune Both Sides Now. Written when she was 23, it was meant to be sung by Mitchell at 78. As one commentator wrote, “This has got to be one of the most imperfectly perfect performance ever.” Like Wynonna, who lost her mother earlier in the year, I bet you won’t be able to get through this one without crying.

Thanks to Joni and all the musicians, who graced our lives in 2022.

More to come…

DJB

*I enjoy all types of music but realized in 2019 as More to Come passed the ten-year mark that I was seldom finding time to really listen to new music, much less highlight musicians I loved through the blog. Announcing a weekly commitment to showcase some of the work of those who caught my ear was a way to push me out of my typical posts. The reaction? Well, I have one family member who confesses to “never reading the music posts.” Others — friends, business colleagues, and family members — regularly comment or send emails with thoughts and suggestions only about the Soundtrack features. Suffice it to say that enough people read them that I’ll continue to feed my soul though these explorations and highlights.


NOTE: Here’s the 2021 top ten list.


Image by Gerhard Bögner from Pixabay

The 2022 year-end reading list

With 2022 drawing to a close, I’m delighted to share my annual list of books I’ve (mostly) enjoyed over the past twelve months.* This year I’ve grouped these 60 books into broad categories, to help you find those of special interest. Scroll down to find:

  • The top five (I’ll revisit these over the years)
  • History and biography (and all that entails)
  • The places where we live (natural and man-made)
  • The times we live in (politics and civic life)
  • Memoir and story (tell me about yourself)
  • Fiction (novels, mysteries, short stories, poetry)
  • Theology and more (thinking about purpose and mindfulness)
  • Sports (really just baseball)
  • Outbursts of radical common sense and whatever else tickled my fancy (otherwise known as the miscellaneous section)

I hope you enjoy learning about the treasures I pulled from my reading shelf this past year. The more intriguing works get slightly longer reviews, while I’ve tried to limit most to 1-2 sentences because of the number of books. Clicking on the link under the book title will take you to my original review.


The top five (books that I’ll revisit over the years)

Jesus and the Disinherited (1949) by Howard Thurman.

The book by this philosopher, theologian, educator, and civil rights leader may best be known as Martin Luther King Jr.’s inspiration before he led the Montgomery bus boycott. In chapters on fear, deception, hate, and love, Thurman “demonstrates how the gospel may be read as a manual of resistance for the poor and disenfranchised.” He writes that in the end Jesus affirmed life and rejected hatred “because he saw that hatred meant death to the mind, death to the spirit, death to communion with his Father.” As Martin Luther King demonstrated, Jesus and the Disinherited can be a life-changing book.


Nothing Ever Dies: Vietnam and the Memory of War (2016) by Viet Thanh Nguyen.

An examination of the many ways we remember wars and how those memories are shaped through the years, this comprehensive look at what Americans call the Vietnam War and what the Vietnamese call the American War pushes the reader to think beyond simple frames, self-serving myths, and established timelines. Nguyen calls for a process of commemoration which remembers others as well as one’s own. His book is as current and important as today’s headlines over who owns and who sets the narrative of American history.


Twilight of Democracy: The Seductive Lure of Authoritarianism, (2020) by Anne Applebaum.

This work stands as a sobering and clear-eyed assessment of the motivations and tactics of authoritarians and their followers who have taken over political parties formerly dedicated to democracy. These authoritarians — individuals driven by resentment and envy, true believers in the righteousness of a moral system that elevates them while punishing those they do not like, grifters looking to make a windfall, and elite intellectuals who will destroy their countries to maintain power — have adopted a similar playbook in a variety of countries. Applebaum is a compelling narrator who brings context while synthesizing history over centuries into digestible portions.


How the South Won the Civil War: Oligarchy, democracy and the continuing fight for the soul of America (2020) by Heather Cox Richardson.

A searing, provocative, and masterful history of how America’s oligarchs have tapped into the extraordinary strength of the ideology of American freedom to undermine freedom and liberty for anyone who is not white and male. After their defeat in the Civil War, these oligarchs regrouped and aligned with business and extraction interests in the West to create a new political power based on hierarchies. That shift changed America’s trajectory toward equality. How the South Won the Civil War is full of surprises and insight.


Lost & Found: A Memoir (2022) by Kathryn Schulz.

A gem of a book, this is that rare memoir by someone who is happy that is worth reading. Schulz knows that there is both a wonder and fragility to living in this world, but she is constantly amazed by life. Lost & Found is a meditation on loss and love in three parts, beginning as she is losing her father. She considers loss from the trivial to the consequential, the cosmic to the personal. At the same time, she is finding her life partner. Every love story, writes Schulz, “is a chronicle of finding, the private history of an extraordinary discovery.” The final section considers how in the midst of the transitions of losing and finding, life goes on. Schulz ends this wonderful meditation by noting that disappearance reminds us to notice, transience to cherish, fragility to defend. “We are here to keep watch, not to keep.”


History and biography (and all that entails)

How the Word is Passed: A Reckoning With the History of Slavery Across America (2021) by Clint Smith.

A groundbreaking book by Smith, a poet and author, who asserts that slavery is not irrelevant to our contemporary society; it created it. Smith’s well-researched work takes the reader to landmarks and monuments all across America where some of the stories he hears are true, some are willfully false, and others take less than complete information to try and point towards truth. Smith works to understand what these places mean today, what we’ve told ourselves about them, and how that impacts the way we live.


One Person, No Vote: How Voter Suppression Is Destroying Our Democracy (2018) stands as historian Carol Anderson‘s ringing condemnation of the rollbacks to Black and Brown Americans’ participation in the vote both before and especially since the 2013 Supreme Court decision that eviscerated the Voting Rights Act of 1965. Faced with demographics that were quickly shrinking the party to permanent minority status, “the Republicans opted to disfranchise rather than reform.”


The American Spirit (2017) is a collection of fifteen speeches given over twenty-five years by David McCullough, who passed away on August 7th. A sense of history, he wrote, “is an antidote to self-pity and self-importance…history is a lesson in proportions.”


The Architecture of Suspense: The built world in the films of Alfred Hitchcock (2022) by Christine Madrid French is academically sound, insightful in its conclusions, and — perhaps best-of-all — a page-turner that a reader simply cannot put down. Chris looks at the ways Alfred Hitchcock made buildings into characters for his films, including the mid-century modernist house as the new villain’s lair and, of course, the famous dilapidated mansion and roadside motel.


1368: China and the Making of the Modern World (2022) by Ali Humayun Akhtar makes a compelling case that China’s “first modern global age” began in 1368 when the Ming dynasty sent out a series of diplomatic missions to various parts of the world resulting in extensive commercial and cultural ties. The Opium Wars signaled the ending of China’s first great global era, leading reformers to push for a western-style industrialized empire that has generated a new set of problems along with enduring questions for the west.


American Dialogue: The Founders and Us (2018), an insightful work by historian Joseph J. Ellis, includes sections on the law and James Madison that were especially relevant during the Supreme Court confirmation hearings of Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson. The Constitution presents a “framework for debate” and that understanding provides the springboard for Ellis’s strong and sustained attack against the misconception of “originalism” — described by Justice William Brennan as “arrogance cloaked as humility.”


Edvard Grieg: His life and music is a 2002 work written by Erling Dahl, Jr. and published by the Edvard Grieg Museum — Troldhaugen. It is an excellent short intro for those who may have heard a number of Grieg’s compositions through the years but do not know much about the life, influences, and work of Norway’s most famous composer.


History Myths Exploded: How Some of History’s Biggest Ideas are Wrong (2019), by Christopher R. Fee and Jeffrey B. Webb, describes how much of what the general public knows about history — from the myth of the 300 Spartans at Thermopylae to Abraham Lincoln and the freeing of the slaves — is at best incomplete and at worst wrong. While we often find truthful accounts of the past less than inspiring, what really excites Americans is a tale well told.


The places where we live (natural and man-made)

Entangled Life: How fungi make our worlds, change our minds & shape our futures (2020) by Merlin Sheldrake.

As his name suggests, the author can conjure up delightful prose and mind-blowing connections that educate, charm, enlighten, and broaden the reader’s understanding of fungi — that indispensable part of life on earth. Sheldrake’s first book reads like a page-turning adventure story right from the beginning. He has managed to inject a sense of wonder — and more importantly, a wonder-filled joy — into his vibrant and vision-changing study.


The Hidden Life of Trees: What They Feel, How They Communicate (2016) is a fascinating and controversial work by German forester Peter Wohlleben. There are those who want to criticize his science, while others simply appreciate how much Wohlleben’s love for the forest and his gifts for storytelling help build new metaphors to inspire a public that too-easily forgets what every schoolchild knows: plants are living beings.


Historic Houses of Worship in Peril: Conserving Their Place in American Life (2020) by Thomas Edward Frank takes the reader into the meaning of these community landmarks and the implications of the rapid change that is reshaping the physical and cultural landscape around them. 


Why Old Places Matter: How historic places affect our identity and well-being (2018) by Thompson M. Mayes is a vital and timeless series of 14 thoughtful essays. The ones on memorycontinuity, and identity position old places in people’s lives in a much more fundamental fashion than the ways in which we often talk about the past. 


Taking Tea with Mackintosh: The Story of Miss Cranston’s Tea Rooms (1998) — Perilla Kinchin‘s engaging and lovely look at women’s history, tea culture, and design in turn-of-the-century Glasgow — recounts the story of Catherine (Kate) Cranston, the owner of a chain of Glasgow tea rooms who built a business empire by serving both men and women in spaces designed by leading-edge architects and designers of the period, especially the preeminent Scottish architect Charles Reinnie Macintosh and his wife, the artist Margaret Macdonald.


Bedside Essays for Lovers (of Cities) (2012) stands as architect Daniel Solomon‘s call for understanding and care for our cities, focusing on what makes cities vibrant, livable, sustainable, and places where we would all want to live. Solomon argues that we need to pay more attention to nurturing “continuous cities” where new buildings, new institutions, and new technologies work to accommodate the past, acting with respect and adding vibrant new chapters to history without eradicating it.


The times we live in (politics and civic life)

The 9.9 Percent: The New Aristocracy That is Entrenching Inequality and Warping our Culture (2021) by Matthew Stewart.

Philosopher and historian Stewart has produced a wide-ranging survey and urgent call to action on wealth inequality. Stewart reframes the way we usually look at this issue, noting that the really wealthy make up only 0.1% of the population. When you examine the top ten percent to find the people who control more than half of the country’s wealth, it is those other 9.9% — looking a great deal like many of us and our friends — who are helping entrench inequality in our system. There are many suggestions and conclusions in this brilliant work, but most importantly Stewart calls for a strong recommitment to liberal democracy, which works to raise everyone up and which he describes as a truth machine.


Carlos Lozada‘s What Were We Thinking: A Brief Intellectual History of the Trump Era (2020) may be the Trump book you didn’t know you needed to read. As the nonfiction book critic of the Washington Post since 2015, Lozada read upwards of 150 works on a period “suffused with conflict, crudeness, and mistrust” and then created this wide-ranging, sobering, at times funny, and always insightful work focused not so much on Donald J. Trump, but on how we see ourselves in this moment.


Nobody Knows My Name: More Notes of a Native Son (1961), James Baldwin’s powerful collection of thirteen essays written during the 1950s, bears “witness to the unhappy consequences of American racial strife” as one observer stated. Baldwin notes in the introduction that “Nothing is more desirable than to be released from an affliction, but nothing is more frightening than to be divested of a crutch.”


Elite Capture: How the Powerful Took Over Identity Politics (And Everything Else) (2022) by Olúfẹ́mi O. Táíwò is a short but important work that examines the polarizing discourse of “identity politics” and how political, social, and economic elites have captured a phrase and political viewpoint for their own use. Táíwò’s work explains the complex process of elite capture and helps the reader move beyond a binary of “class” vs. “race.” 


War is a Force That Gives Us Meaning (2003) by Chris Hedges is a book I returned to read again in February as Russia was threatening the invasion of Ukraine that ultimately came later that month. In Hedges’ words, war in Ukraine from the Russian perspective is a “mythic” war, where those involved seek to imbue events with meanings they do not have.


Why We Are Restless: On the Modern Quest for Contentment (2021) by Benjamin Storey and Jenna Silber Storey makes an interesting, sometimes compelling, but ultimately unsatisfactory case as to why our pursuit of happiness makes us unhappy. The Storeys examine the writings of four French philosophers to make their case against liberalism, but the book misses the point that democracy itself is a moral position that allows people to make their own choices and that is messy by design.


Memoir and story (tell me about yourself)

There is Nothing for You Here: Finding Opportunity in the 21st Century (2021) by Fiona Hill.

This is foreign policy and national security expert Hill’s very personal story of growing up in England’s coal mining country as part of the wrong class, in the wrong region, with the wrong accent and nonetheless working her way through St. Andrews and Harvard to the Council on Foreign Relations, Brookings, and service in the White House. Hill uses her story as both backdrop and cautionary tale after having seen firsthand where we are headed without a major change in direction. She argues that our left-behind citizens deserve better in part because if we recognize that life is a “team sport,” we all do better.


Beeswing: Losing My Way and Finding My Voice 1967 – 1975 (2021), British singer-songwriter Richard Thompson’s witty, moving, and un-ponderous memoir, takes the reader through his early musical career in Fairport Convention, as a session guitarist for hire, and then in a musical duo with his wife Linda. As well-crafted as Thompson’s music, the book includes thoughtful passages about tragedy and resilience, insightful descriptions of 1960s London, and laugh-out-loud stories.


A Grief Observed (1961) by C.S. Lewis is a brief, poignant, and honest journal written following the death of his wife. Lewis works through his grief, the loss of meaning and faith, and his efforts to regain his footing in this world. While each experience of grief is unique, what Lewis describes feels so much like what so many have gone through in our period of mass death worldwide.


Survivor: The triumph of an ordinary man in the Khmer Rouge Genocide (2012) by Chum Mey, one of seven survivors of the S-21 Khmer Rouge prison in Cambodia, is a raw and moving story of a poor Cambodian peasant who became a car mechanic, and — after the Khmer Rouge takeover — was arrested under false pretenses and sent to Tuol Sleng, the name for the S-21 prison and torture center. The story of his resilience and impact is inspiring.


Between Meals: An Appetite for Paris (1959) is a memoir by the well-known New Yorker writer A.J. Liebling which captures his love for Paris, food, “and for pleasure itself.” While definitely a piece of its time, Liebling’s writing remains juicy and irresistible even today.


Fiction (novels, mysteries, short stories, poetry)

The Lincoln Highway (2021) by Amor Towles.

Towles third novel is a self-described “multilayered tale of misadventure and self-discovery.” Set in ten days in 1954, it begins when eighteen-year-old Emmett Watson and his precocious eight-year-old brother Billy set out on the road with the intention of going to California to begin their lives over. But the misadventure occurs when other characters quickly insert themselves into the trip. Towles explores how “evil can be offset by decency and kindness on any rung of the socio-economic ladder.” We also learn how a single wrong turn on the highway of life can set you off course for years but doesn’t have to last forever.


Raven Black (2006) is the first in the Shetland Island mystery series of author Ann Cleeves. Lonely outcast Magnus Tait stays home on New Year’s Eve and becomes the prime suspect when the body of a murdered teenage girl is discovered nearby the next morning. Inspector Jimmy Perez has his doubts, and in his work to unravel the true tale we find out a great deal about the Shetland Islands and this small, isolated community.


Magnus (1973), the second novel of George Mackay Brown, one of Scotland’s most accomplished 20th century writers. is the fictional account of the real-life murder of Earl Magnus of Orkney who “walked calmly, knowingly and completely unarmed to a terrible death at the hands of his cousin Hakon Paulson.” Told through the eyes of several peasants, it is both atmospheric in capturing the spirit of the islands, and descriptive in recounting the hardships and terror of life in the 12th century.


Christmas Stories (2021) by George Mackay Brown is a collection of seasonal short stories brought together for the first time in book form on the 100th anniversary of the Orkney writer’s birth. Brown was a unique writer who “attempted to capture and re-create the reality of his homeland” through religious and ritualistic themes in these pieces originally commissioned for the Herald and the Tablet.


Holes (1998), a novel by Louis Sachar, takes the reader on a darkly humorous trip. Because of a curse put on Stanley Yelnats no-good-dirty-rotten-pig-stealing great-great-grandfather, our hero always finds himself in the wrong place at the wrong time, which is how he ends up at Camp Green Lake digging very large holes. Winner of the prestigious Newbery Medal, it has delighted pre-teens, teens, and adults alike for years.


The Great Passion (2022) by James Runcie, is “a meditation on grief and music” as imagined through the writing of one of the greatest masterpieces of Baroque sacred music, the St. Matthew Passion. The narrator of this historical novel is thirteen-year-old Stefan Silbermann, taken under the wing of his new school’s cantor Johann Sebastian Bach, who helps teach us how music speaks to grief while capturing, in a very imaginative way, what it must have been like to “sing, play, and hear Bach’s music for the very first time.”


Bronze Drum (2022) by Phong Nguyen brings to life a true story from ancient Vietnam of two sisters who rise up to lead an army of women, overthrow their hated colonizers. and create an independent nation. Their resistance reflects a fierce desire for independence that the Vietnamese never forgot. The lively writing shows how a country’s past and present can be shaped by memory and the telling and retelling of stories.


On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous (2019) by Ocean Vuong is a stunning piece of writing in the form of a letter to the author’s mother, who he knows will not be able to read it because of her limited grasp of English. The masterful work is really about processing difficult memories, from his childhood in Vietnam to the move with his mother and grandmother to America, to his first love. The memories are painful yet written with a bluntness that is honest and real.


Time is a Mother (2022), the second book of poetry by Ocean Vuong, was written after his mother passed away and he describes the aftershocks from the realization of her death. Time is a Mother is a very intimate book that, as others have written, embodies “the paradox of sitting within grief while being determined to survive beyond it.”


Lemon (2021), the first novel translated into English by the Korean writer Kwon Yeo-sun, revolves around the murder of a beautiful 18-year-old woman and how the case turns cold when the two prime suspects cannot be convicted. The reader considers issues of fear, guilt, grief, and trauma, while the book, as more than one review has noted, also serves as a “shrewd diagnosis of a culture that disempowers women — commodifying and consuming them, one after another, until their appeal wears out.” 


Theology and more (thinking about purpose and mindfulness)

Short Stories by Jesus: The enigmatic parables of a controversial rabbi (2014) by Amy-Jill Levine.

In this highly praised study of the parables of Jesus written by a self-described “Yankee Jewish feminist who teaches in a predominantly Christian divinity school in the buckle of the Bible Belt,” Levine uses an easy-to-read style spiced with humor to get her readers to understand the parables in the same way as their original audiences did. She notes that these stories are less about revealing something new and more about tapping into “our memories, our values, and our deepest longings”, serving “as keys that can unlock the mysteries we face by helping us ask the right questions.”


Jesus the Forgiving Victim (2013), the fascinating book by priest, theologian, and author James Alison, follows on from the insight into desire associated with the great French historian and philosopher René Girard and focuses on the non-moralistic nature of Christianity. Grace, not laws or morals, is the theme that Alison explores through twelve insightful essays.


Biblical Fracking: Midrash for the Modern Christian (2019) by Francis H. Wade encourages the reader to explore meaning beyond the literal text and traditional interpretations of the Bible, building off the Jewish idea of midrash (to “inquire” or “expound”). In 20 short chapters, Frank asks us to wonder about things that have no authoritative answer in a way that leads to a faith-based reflection on the human experience.


Your True Home: The everyday wisdom of Thich Nhat Hanh (2011 — compiled and edited by Melvin McLeod) has been part of my daily reading this year. The 365 meditations in Your True Home are focused on the monk’s embrace of mindfulness. Each meditation is only a few sentences in length, but the brevity is part of what contributes to their power.


Peace Is Every Step: The Path of Mindfulness in Everyday Life (1991) by Thich Nhat Hanh shows us simple techniques around basic human actions — such as breathing, smiling, walking, and eating — in order to make positive use of the situations that pressure and antagonize us. Addressing our personal peace and mindfulness is necessary, Nhat Hanh asserts, before we can deal with the broader, more global issues of peace and justice.


The Spirit of Soul Food: Race, faith, and food justice (2021), by Christopher Carter speaks to the clear, Christian ethical basis for a new system of food justice. “Our foodways are an expression of our identity, a way of maintaining connections to our ancestors and our ancestral homelands; our foodways are personal and communal, emotional and habitual.” This book — part history lesson, part spiritual meditation, and part call to action — is a timely reminder of the often-oppressive underpinnings of our broken food system.


Wishful Thinking: A Theological ABC (1973) by Frederick Buechner is filled with witty, slightly off kilter, and unconventional insights and asides. Buechner wrote this book from a desire to reconsider and return to the meaning of well-used words and it is equal parts thoughtful, spirited and entertaining in ways that relate to the doubter and the restless believer.


Being Home: Discovering the Spiritual in the Everyday (1991) by Gunilla Norris looks at the tasks we do — from awakening in the morning to locking the door at nightfall — and puts them in the context of living in place. “How we hold the simplest of our tasks,” Norris writes, “speaks loudly about how we hold life itself.”


Night Visions: Searching the shadows of Advent and Christmas (1998) by Jan L. Richardson is a series of daily meditations and blessings for the Advent and Christmas seasons, inviting us to encounter the God who dwells in darkness as well as in daylight as we: Stay. Sit. Linger. Tarry. Ponder. Wait. Behold. Wonder.


Hidden Christmas: The Surprising Truth Behind the Birth of Christ (2016) is by best-selling author Timothy Keller, who has a perspective that came off to me as very moralistic. I prefer James Alison’s look at the non-moralistic nature of Christianity.


Being There, Peter Keese‘s short book of stories that came from the author’s Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE) career, did stimulate conversations among our book group around being there for others. However, we concluded there is not enough of value to recommend it.


Sports (really just baseball)

The Baseball 100 (2021) by Joe Posnanski.

The self-described “writer of sports and other nonsense” has produced “a magnum opus…an audacious, singular, and masterly book that took a lifetime to write.” This is Joe’s intimate and very personal look at baseball history through the lives of the 100 greatest players of all time. Posnanski explains how his rankings came to take their form, which includes some of his personal quirks that set the players in certain places (e.g., #56 for Joe DiMaggio for his historic 56-game hitting streak; #42 for Jackie Robinson for his uniform number, the most famous in baseball). But mostly he wants these rankings to “give this book shape and spark a few feelings.” And they do. I happen to strongly agree with his number 1 ranking, but I know others who would disagree. The Baseball 100 is pure baseball bliss.


24: Life Stories and Lesson from the Say Hey Kid (2020) by Willie Mays and John Shea is a great memoir from a true sports hero. Broken into 24 chapters, Mays recounts stories about his father, “Cat” Mays in Play Catch with Your Dad; recalls his days in the Negro Leagues with the Birmingham Black Barons; and much more. Mays, who grew up in segregated Alabama during Jim Crow and the Depression, still tells us to Have Fun on the Job. I profess to being biased, but Willie Mays is, simply, the greatest baseball player of all time. If you don’t believe me, read Joe Posnanski (see above).


Outbursts of radical common sense and whatever else tickled my fancy (otherwise known as the miscellaneous section)

If Everybody Did (1960) by Jo Ann Stover.

This is the first book I remember reading as a child and it holds up to rereading as an adult. The quirky children’s book with the funky illustrations is a primer on how to live together. We are all a mess of contradictions so living in community is difficult enough in normal times. These are not normal times, in part because too many people in public life today clearly never internalized the lessons found in this classic.


Portable Magic: A History of Books and their Readers (2022) is Professor Emma Smith‘s delightfully written and thought-provoking work asking us to consider the impact of touch, smell, and hearing on the experience of books. There are fascinating chapters on the “Editions of the Armed Services” from World War II, digital books, book-burnings, a full chapter on Mein Kampf, and bookbinding.


Hokusai Pop-Ups (2016) by Courtney Watson McCarthy, a paper engineer and graphic designer from New York, is a moveable book featuring the work of Japanese artist Hokusai. It contains information on the artist, but the scene stealers are McCarthy’s dazzling pop-ups of Hokusai’s art, which influenced painters such as Claude Monet and architects and designers in both Europe and the United States.


FJ50, the 50th edition of the Fretboard Journal, may not count as a book in your mind, but this high-quality quarterly — which is supported by subscriptions and music-related ads and “chock full of the wild, weird and wonderful from the world of fretted instruments” — gets special consideration. The Fretboard Journal survives and thrives, content to bore in and focus on “the varied talents found in our little universe.”


Eat Your Words: A Fascinating Look at the Language of Food (1999) by Charlotte Foltz Jones was just the recipe for a short, delightful romp through the world of language and food. “Because food is necessary for survival,” writes Jones, “our entire culture is based on it”: our laws, our money, our superstitions, our celebrations, and especially our language.


Vietnam: The Essential Guide to Customs and Culture (2020) by Geoffrey Murray, is a smart and concise overview that pushed me to recognize how much I had to learn and encouraged me to explore paths out of my comfort zone. 


The End of the Beginning: Being the Adventures of a Small Snail (and an Even Smaller Ant) (2004) by Avi is a delightful children’s book that takes the reader through the multiple adventures of Avon, a small snail, and his friend Edward, the ant. Along the way they meet many different creatures and decide that even tiny adventures can broaden one’s worldview.


Thanks for so many comments through the year from those who saw these reviews on More to Come and reached out to add insights and suggest other works I might find of interest. Keep reading!

More to come…

DJB


*To check out previous lists, click here for the posts from 2021, 20202019, and 2018.


This Weekly Reader features links to recent articles, blog posts, or books that grabbed my interest or tickled my fancy. I hope you find something that makes you laugh, think, or cry. 


Image from public domain on Pixabay

Best of the blog: Top ten posts of 2022

December is when “Top Ten” lists spring up in all sorts of places, including More to Come.

This list is your selection of the top ten posts for the year. Because MTC is not your typical single-focus newsletter, I want to thank you for reading this eclectic mix of observations about experiences, people, and things I enjoy; issues that are important to me; and topics I need to hear. I am so grateful that readers keep checking in, providing feedback through their choices of what’s of interest.

So let’s begin…and yes, you have to go all the way to the end to see what’s #1.


Travels far and wide

After two years of a pandemic lockdown, I was beyond ready to hit the road in 2022. Judging by the number of views, MTC readers were also ready to experience travel, even vicariously. Two of the top ten posts from 2022 were travel related, and I’ve thrown in two bonus posts because 1) one was bumped out of the top ten in the last week and 2) I want to ensure that all my major trips from the year were included.

Observations from the Mekong River is the wrap-up post from a life-enriching tour of Vietnam and Cambodia. Within this piece you’ll find links to the six additional postings from the trip.

Our family likes to eat, so I write about those experiences. A lot. Occasionally they make the top ten list. An appetite for Paris (with a side order of Glasgow) is one such post, which covers our time in France and Scotland.


Travel bonus posts

It took less than two hours in the city for Claire to exclaim that You cannot take a bad picture in Paris (Part 1). During our ten days in the city, we took hundreds. This post was bumped out of the top ten at the last minute by an unexpected entrant, so I’ve included it here. In addition to the first in this series, check out parts two, three, and four.

Observations from…cities, highlands, islands, and fjords, a bonus choice, ensures that you have a chance to see photos and notes from our trip last spring to Scotland and Norway.


Music and books…staples of my life

Two of my passions are words and music. Since I write about them — a lot — it is no surprise that four of the top ten reader views followed my lead.

Joni Jam captures Joni Mitchell’s triumphant return to Newport in 2022. This top ten post included a few of my favorite videos from the show.

The books I read… was a regular feature on MTC. Each month I would summarize the five books I read during that period. These summaries were favorites of readers, so rather than clutter up the top ten list with four or five of these posts, I’ve included the one from November, which has links to all the other months.

Ten tips for reading five books a month was born when a friend wrote to ask how I read so fast in order to get through my goal for each month. Tip Number 10: Read all the time is probably the most important, but the other nine are apparently useful as well, based on the reader views and feedback.

Embrace the liminality in life — my take on Kathryn Schulz’s generous and perceptive meditation/memoir on loss and love, Lost & Found — topped the reader views for an individual review.


Place matters

My career has been about saving places that matter. One post in the top ten focused on that theme.

Memory, continuity, and identity are deeply important to people, positioning the importance of old places in people’s lives in a much more fundamental fashion than we often think. It was that point of view that I wanted to share with a group of University of Virginia students. As I did so, I placed it in the context of my personal journey and my origin story, which takes place at Union Station in Nashville.


Family recollections and celebrations

More to Come started as a family blog, and through more than 14 years I’ve continued writing about the people I love. Three of this year’s top ten posts have family themes, including the top vote getter for 2022.

My annual Thanksgiving posting of family photographs is always a perennial favorite. Our year in photos – 2022 showcases trips and transitions, along with much to be grateful for.

Andrew Bearden Brown (credit: Kristina Sherk)

Accomplished artists stand on the shoulders of giants: their teachers. As Andrew announced that he was heading to the opera institute at Boston University this fall, I wrote All that we owe our teachers as my way of saying thanks to his coaches and mentors. They are all remarkable people who have graced our family’s life.

And coming in #1 on this year’s list of the “Best of the blog” — even though it was only posted in the past week — is a short piece celebrating Claire and Andrew’s 30th birthday on December 20th. Thirty years goes by in the blink of an eye is a reminder to savor every moment.

Enjoy!

More to come…

DJB


Last year’s listing of the top ten posts on More to Come as selected by reader views can be seen by clicking on the link. You can also check here to find similar lists from 2020, 2019, and 2016 (family and friends edition) and 2016 (everything else).


Image of flower detail from Giverny by Claire Holsey Brown.

Happy Christmas!

An excerpt from One Christmas in Birsay by George Mackay Brown


Two boys were down in the ebb at Birsay, they moved from rockpool to rockpool, probing. Their faces looked back at them from the still mirrors, with the winter-blue sky behind. Then one of the boys put his foot in a tassle of seaweed and he slithered and half fell into a rockpool with a small splash.

‘Watch where you’re going, Magnus,’ said the other boy. ‘The man who looks always at the sky will have a fall….’

‘If we don’t go up to the Hall soon, we’ll have to swim ashore.’

‘The old grandfather will be sitting over the fire…. Will he be able to go to the church tonight? Will Thorfinn know it’s Christmas Eve?’


The two boys did not sit long over the mid-day meal. It was fish and thin beer. The old earl, their grandfather, did not come to the table. A woman knelt beside him with a bowl and put pieces of fish into his mouth. ‘That’s enough,’ said Earl Thorfinn. ‘I’m not hungry. I’m cold, though. Put more logs on the fire.’

The two boys went over to greet their grandfather.

‘Who are you?’ said Thorfinn Sigurdson. ‘Where have you come from? I don’t know you.’

‘I’m Hakon,’ said the elder boy.

‘I’m Magnus,’ said the other.

‘Don’t stand between me and the fire,’ said the old man. ‘Boys ought to be out in the wind and sun. You’ll draw to the hearth soon enough.’


The two boys climbed to the summit of the steep green island. It was a still winter afternoon. The globe of the sun hung low on the horizon. The sea ran gold, then crimson as blood.

They stood together, their arms on each other’s shoulders, looking out over the ocean. Already from the north, darkling shadows moved on the flood.

They were attacked by a bird! Suddenly out of the sunset it came at them, there on the clifftop — a threshing and flurry and beat of wings, a frenzy of beak and claws.

The bird went after the boy Hakon. He turned and ran, helter-skelter. Then, remembering that the pulse of sea-kings beat in him, he picked up a large stone and hurled it at the bird. The stone missed but the bird rode higher on the wind and turned and fell on the boy Magnus who stood where he was, on the cliff edge. The bird fell about the boy’s head with shrieks and a concentrated fury of wings. And still the boy stood.

Hakon covered his eyes.

From the church below — in a time and place far removed — he heard the plainsong…. The torrent would have swept over us: over us then would have swept the raging waters.

Blessed be the Lord, who did not leave us a prey to their teeth….

Hakon dug another stone out of the turf and turned to help his friend.

What he saw, black against the glow in the south-west, was the bird sitting furled on the outstretched hand of Magnus.

When Hakon approached, the bird opened its wings and flew unhurriedly out over the waves.

Then Hakon saw that there was a fresh claw-mark on his friend’s forehead, and blood was seeping and dropping from the wound.

‘Time to get back,’ said Magnus. ‘Look, a lantern in the byre door.’


A chair had been brought into the church for the old Earl to sit on. But nobody thought he would come.

A Birsay farm boy lit the candles on the altar.

They came slowly, in little groups, crofters and fishermen and wives and children; they stood here and there in the little cold church.

Something wonderful would happen soon.

The palace officials entered — falconer and the keeper of the horses and the three skippers and the treasurer and the scrivener and the king’s man from Norway and the beautiful lady Thora. They came in one by one and genuflected and stood near the altar.

Two boys came in — those who would be earls some day — and the common people saw that one of the boys had a bandage round his head. The boys knelt one on each side of Thora.

There was a stir at the door. The old Earl Thorfinn Sigurdson was entering. Two men hovered about him, in case he should stumble. One took him lightly by the elbow and pointed to the carved chair over by the altar.

The old man paid no attention. Painfully he knelt down at the back of the church, among the croft-folk and the fisher-folk.

Plainchant drifted from the young mouths in the choir. Dominus dixit ad me: Filius meus es tu, ego hodie genui te.

The young bishop entered, William, with three boys to serve at the Mass of the Nativity.

Birds called from the enfolding waters below.

The church seemed to be afloat suddenly on a tide of joy.


Doorway to St. Magnus Cathedral, Kirkwall, Orkney Islands

One Christmas in Birsay is part of the collection Christmas Stories (2021) by the Orkney-born writer George Mackay Brown. 2021 was the 100th anniversary of the birth of Brown, one of Scotland’s most revered authors.

In his latter years, Brown was “commissioned every Christmas by the Herald and the Tablet to write an original short story suitably themed for the time of year. Many of these, never published before in book form, are collected in this work for the first time together with other stories that he wrote with a seasonal background.”

The result is a literary feast and a most suitable celebration of this great writer, whose voice is entirely unique.

Have a Happy Christmas, everyone.

More to come…

DJB


See also: Through the Eye of the Needle of Orkney.


Image of Scottish winter by Lee from Pixabay. Image of cliffs in Orkney by David McCreight from Pixabay. Image of Viking Church ruins on Orkney by marilynreid from Pixabay. Image of St. Magnus Cathedral and stone walls on Orkney by DJB.

Musical gifts for Yuletide

Here on Christmas Eve, I want to provide a few of my favorite tunes — both old and new, but mostly old — for Yuletide. And to add the appropriate flavor, I’ll drop in a few photos from the Hagley Museum‘s 2022 Gingerbread Contest with the theme All Creatures Great and Small.

A decorated barn is perfect for the theme of All Creatures Great and Small

This year I’m featuring two masters of the finger-style guitar, various artists from one of my favorite radio shows, and the group Windborne.


Robin Bullock

Each year at the Institute of Musical Traditions’ Celtic Christmas concert, guitarist Robin Bullock plays a beautiful rendition of Ukrainian composer Mykola Leontovich‘s Christmas song that didn’t begin as a Christmas song: Carol of the Bells. He did so again earlier this month, and I share it with you here at an especially meaningful time for the people of Ukraine.

Robin’s album Christmas Eve is Here, is full of beautiful guitar, cittern, and mandolin arrangements of the old chestnuts. We’ll sample a few, beginning with It Came Upon a Midnight Clear followed by In the Bleak Midwinter — based on a poem by Christina Rossetti — which is one of Candice’s most beloved songs of the season. I’ll end the Bullock segment with the frisky Tomorrow Shall Be My Dancing Day.


A winning church, complete with an octopus and other sea creatures!

Alex de Grassi

Musician and composer Alex de Grassi has produced a series of sublime and beautiful guitar arrangements of seasonal classics. The Holly and the Ivy begins this set, followed by Good King Wenceslas and then by one of my personal favorites, Bring a Torch, Jeanette, Isabella.

Bring a Torch began as a French dance tune for nobility in the 17th century, but quickly became a Christmas standard.

The characters “Jeannette” and “Isabelle/Isabella” are two female farmhands who have found the Baby Jesus and his mother Mary in a stable. Excited by this discovery, they run to a nearby village to tell the inhabitants, who rush to see the new arrivals. Visitors to the stable are urged to keep their voices quiet, so the newborn can enjoy his dreams.


Ladybugs on a delicious rooftop

etown holiday music

A community of musicians and artists who have been sharing their gifts from Boulder, Colorado for more than 30 years, etown is a great place to find musical collaborations…including some holiday treats.

Fiddle great Mark O’Connor brought his Hot Swing! group to etown, where they performed a beautiful rendition of The Christmas Song.

The next two offerings show the informal side of etown. There’s a bit of patter and interviewing before Celtic singer Loreena McKennitt performs a haunting arrangement of Greensleeves on the piano. In the second video, co-founder Helen Forester steps in during the middle of the great Tex Logan tune Christmas Time is Coming to read the show’s credits. Tim O’Brien then jumps right in with a mandolin break and the tune’s back in full swing. This is live radio, folks!


Turtles!

Windborne

We’ll end this Yuletide musical celebration with two tunes from Windborne. The group sang this fun arrangement of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer at last month’s IMT concert here in DC. And there’s no more fitting song to wrap up a holiday musical special than Auld Lang Syne.

Happy Christmas and best wishes for the season!

More to come…

DJB


For more holiday tunes from the acoustic and old-time set, check out last year’s post.


Image by wal_172619 from Pixabay. All photos of the gingerbread houses by DJB

Gratitude to Ukraine

Many events are labeled historic or unprecedented. Last evening’s speech to a joint meeting of Congress by Ukraine’s President Volodymyr Zelenskyy — while not unprecedented — was truly historic. If you haven’t watched it, I encourage you to take the half-hour required to hear it for yourself (beginning at the 35-minute mark).

Historians are comparing it to Churchill’s speech to a joint meeting of Congress on December 26, 1941, shortly after the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor. And the parallels are similar and worth noting. We do not have troops on the ground in Ukraine, as we did in WWII. Yet the building and strengthening of our alliance was very much on Zelenskyy’s mind, as it was on Churchill’s some 81 years ago.

Zelenskyy spoke of America and Ukraine as allies in a global fight against anti-democratic forces. (“Our two nations are allies in the battle.”) He said that the struggle “will define in what world our children and grandchildren will live. Will it be a democracy of Ukrainians and Americans?” And Zelenskyy cautioned that America should “not make the mistake of believing that an ocean will protect America because the world is too interconnected to allow anyone to feel safe.”

Robert E. Hubbell

At the end of Churchill’s half-hour speech, notes The Guardian‘s David Smith, “the chief justice gave a “V” for victory sign and one reporter observed: ‘The effect was instantaneous, electric. The cheers swelled into a roar.'”

Cheers turned to roars again for Zelenskyy when, in a nod to Churchill, he declared: “Ukraine holds its lines and will never surrender.”

To put Zelenskyy’s address — and the debt we owe to Ukraine for standing up to Russian aggression — in the proper context, I recommend historian Timothy Snyder‘s piece from December 11th entitled Gratitude to Ukraine. Here’s the opening, but I encourage you to read the entire essay:

Debts are awkward, especially debts of gratitude.  When we owe others too much, we can find it hard to express our appreciation.  If we are not reflective, we might minimize our debt, or simply forget it.  If we think highly of ourselves, we might ignore a debt to someone we regard as less important.  In the worst case, we can resent the people who have helped us, and portray them in a negative light, just to avoid the feeling that we, too, are vulnerable people who sometimes need a helping hand.

Americans (and many others) owe Ukrainians a huge debt of gratitude for their resistance to Russian aggression.  For some mixture of reasons, we have difficulty acknowledging this.  To do so, we have to find the words.  Seven that might help are: security, freedom, democracy, courage, pluralism, perseverance, and generosity.

A key point for Snyder revolves around how the bravery of Zelenskyy and Ukraine has produced greater security for Americans and the rest of the world.

Perhaps the most important and the most unacknowledged debt is security.  Ukrainian resistance to Russia has vastly reduced the chances of major armed conflict elsewhere, and thus significantly reduced the chances of a nuclear war. 

For American policymakers and security analysts, it is literally dumbfounding that another country can do so much for our own security, using methods that we ourselves could not have employed.  Ukraine has reduced the risk of war with Russia from a posture of simple delf-defense.  Ukraine has reduced the threat of a war with China without confronting China, and indeed while pursuing good relations with China.  None of that was available to Americans.  And yet the consequence is greater security for Americans.

Zelenskyy also invoked American history in his speech, most effectively (if somewhat obscurely for most history-deficient Americans) by comparing the early battlefield success of Ukraine to the Battle of Saratoga, a decisive victory for the Continental Army in the Revolutionary War. He also quoted the words of President Roosevelt after Pearl Harbor, saying that Ukraine would “fight through to absolute victory.” He referenced the Battle of the Bulge and said that “Just as brave American soldiers fought Hitler’s forces during Christmas 1944, so Ukrainian troops are fighting Russia this Christmas.”

Then President Zelenskyy added this poignant reminder of the hardships those who stand up for democracy face in generation after generation.

In two days, we will celebrate Christmas by candlelight. Millions will have no heating or running water as a result of missiles and drone attacks on infrastructure. We do not complain; we do not judge or compare whose life is easier; your well-being is the product of your many struggles and victories. We will go through our war with dignity and success.

Perhaps, most importantly, President Zelenskyy reminded Americans of who we say we are, what that means to the world, and why we must continue fighting for democracy. It was a historic speech that saw both Republican and Democratic members of Congress — united in common purpose — stand up together for dozens of ovations and cheers.


The exceptions on the floor of the House were Matt Gaetz and Lauren Boebert. Both remained seated, “smirking and whispering while their colleagues applauded.” And that loudest mouthpiece of Russian propaganda — Putin’s useful idiot Tucker Carlson — joined other crazed right-wing pundits in losing it over Zelenskky’s visit, in part because he “wasn’t wearing a suit” and “looked like a strip club manager” (leading one pundit to ask, “How does Tucker Carlson know what a strip club manager wears?”).

Heaven forbid that America stand for democracy, when there’s grift to be made by oligarchs and their friends.

I liked Jacob Rubashkin’s simple retort:

We’re going to continue to have to fight for democracy overseas and at home. That’s the lesson of Ukraine and the lesson of history.

More to come…

DJB


NOTE: See also historian Heather Cox Richardson‘s take on President Zelenskyy’s speech, James Fallows’s analysis of the structure and language, as well as my earlier posts Ukraine and the myths of war and It’s not all about us.


Image of field of sunflowers by Claire Holsey Brown