I’m lame, I know. I ran out of time to post the chapter today. The posting will resume Monday. Thanks!

Paolini is fading, Myer is gaining…

Chapter post coming later today, but first a sobbery update.

Christopher Paolini has long been my literary nemisis. But with the recent hype surrounding Twilight, and the revelation of Stephanie Myer, Myer is starting to Eclipse (ohhh, pun definitely intended) Paolini as the target of my sobbery.

Five reasons Myer is looking like a real contender:

1. For a married mom, she has an amazingly adolescent view of love. I suspect she is writing these books to fulfill her romantic fantasies. I feel sorry for her not-Edward Cullen husband. I wounder how Suzanne would feel if I wrote four lengthy novels gushing over an imaginary vampire chick’s looks and bod? Here’s a few excerpts of Edward-praise for those who don’t believe me:
   

   He was too perfect, I realized with a piercing stab of despair. There was no way this godlike creature could be meant for me.

   I tried to keep my eyes away from his perfection as much as possible, but I slipped often. Each time, his beauty pierced me through with sadness.

   His angel’s face was only a few inches from mine. I might have — should have — flinched away from his uexpected closeness, but I was unable to move. His golden eyes mesmerized me.”What are you afraid of, then?” he whispered intently.But I couldn’t answer. As I had just that once before, I smelled his cool breath in my face. Sweet, delicious, the scent made my mouth water. It was unlike anything else. Instinctively, unthinkingly, I leaned closer, inhaling.

   Excuse me whilst I vomit.

2. Edward and Bella don’t make sense. Correct me if I’m wrong on this, Bella is an average, homely, awkward teenager and somehow Edward has been waiting almost a century to meet someone like her. What? He couldn’t find another average-homely-awkward teenager to dote on? As far as I can tell, girls like Bella are in abundant supply. And they don’t have hot vampire lovers proclaiming their love whenever they sneeze. Is it crazy for me to think that maybe Myer was average-awkward-homely… You get the idea.
3. Twilight is a bad example for teenage girls. All the Pretty Horses is also a bad example for teenage girls but I think more are reading Twilight. I quote Jeffery Overstreet on this:
   

   Don’t be surprised if your teenage daughter envisions herself as Bella, and justifies her attraction to the reckless-driving, emotionally unstable, explosive rebel of her class. She’ll tell you that you just don’t understand… that he’s just misunderstood… and that they are hopelessly and unconditionally in love. A few years down the road, I’ll be interested to check back in with them and ask, “And how is that working out for you?”

4. Any book with multiple instances of “marbled chests” is suspect. Doughy chests are acceptable. Marbled, nope.
5. Myer doesn’t seem like a very good writer. She’s no Paolini but check this stinker out:
   

   I was in danger of being distracted by his livid, glorious face. It was like trying to stare down a destroying angel.

   That sentence makes me laugh. And by the way, it’s a classic example of telling instead of showing.

Those are some reasons. Here’s are some even better reasons (rated PG):

This made me laugh too:

Chapter 9: Wayfarers All

This is an interesting chapter. Honestly, I’ve always had a hard time getting through it, just because it seems so out-of-place in the middle of Toad’s Adventure and it’s so dreamy. But I’m glad I took the time to read it and think about it. I especially identified with it.

First off, Rat and I are very similar in our tastes. Rat prefers to stay put and chiefly enjoys the pleasures of home, friendship, and quiet–I’m the same way. However, in this chapter, adventure tempts Rat to leave everything he loves. I’ve been through that temptation before. Part of me is always wanting to run off to England (usually England) or someplace different and see new trees and houses; to wander through an unknown country without a care. (Dad satisfies this this with hunting trips, I think.) I’ve even tried to do it a couple of times but that really isn’t the life for me. That’s when Suzanne plays the role of Mole. And, of course, Mole is right.

the Mole turned his talk to the harvest that was being gathered in, the towering wagons and their straining teams, the growing ricks, and the large moon rising over bare acres dotted with sheaves. He talked of the reddening apples around, of the browning nuts, of jams and preserves and the distilling of cordials; till by easy stages such as these he reached midwinter, its hearty joys and its snug home life…

That is truly the best life.

Has anyone else felt the adventure tug before? I know this was a hard chapter so congratulations if you made your way through it. I’m interested to hear if anyone had a different take on this.

Chapter 8: Toad’s Adventures

I think last week left everyone scratching their heads. If it did, this week should be a little more straightforward.

What can you say about Toad? Here’s just three thing I loved:

1. Toad’s instant remorse after being thrown in jail.
2. Every time I read the description of the buttered toast it makes me crave buttered toast.
   

   hot buttered toast, cut thick, very brown on both sides, with the butter running through the holes in it in great golden drops, like honey from the honeycomb.

   Drool.

3. Toad thinking that the jailer’s daughter is attracted to him and her liking him because she’s fond of pets (but she’s classy enough not to tell Toad).

That’s all. I won’t take all the good parts.

One final note: Grahame is hilarious. This chapter is packed with humor. And it’s a good kind of humor, not just cheap setups and punchlines. You can tell that, no matter how ridiculous Grahame thinks Toad is, he always likes him. The story is always on Toad’s side, even though he does some bad stuff. While Grahame pokes fun at Toad, the fun is always affectionate, never mean-spirited. Unfortunately most of the humor popular today is of the exact opposite ilk. But Grahame’s is the best kind of humor. Remember this quote:

I love these little people, be kind to them.

What did you think?

John Piper on the Election

Tomorrow’s the big day. John Piper has some words of wisdom for us.

Chapter 7: The Piper at the Gates of Dawn

This is one of the more interesting chapters in Wind in the Willows. Rat and Mole go looking for Otter’s lost son and encounter a God.

There’s a lot to think about in this chapter. Grahame is such an excellent writer and he rises to new highs in this chapter. This would be a very hard chapter to write and make it work–but he does. Here’s a couple things to think about:

Animals don’t know about God but they must have some sense of him on a deeper, instinctual level. If we take the Bible completely literally, there are animals in Heaven–not just on Earth. (Angels ride horses.) What would it be like for an animal to encounter God?

God also cares for the animals. When speaking to Jonah, he says:

…Nineveh has more than a hundred and twenty thousand people who cannot tell their right hand from their left, and many cattle as well. Should I not be concerned about that great city?

And:

Even the sparrow has found a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may have her young— a place near your altar, O LORD Almighty, my King and my God.

And:

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.

God has always cared about the animals and a lesser part of his plan in redeeming us is to redeem his creation. (As we go, so nature goes. When we fell, nature fell. You can see this in nature, it’s just like us, very beautiful and very ugly but never as beautiful or as ugly as humans. There is no Jesus of the animals. There is no Hilter of the animals.) So in the universe of Wind in Willows, Rat and Mole encounter God in a way that humans can’t. The mysterious Friend and Helper. He’s a secret to Rat and Mole because they shouldn’t know about him. They don’t need to.

Finally, it’s clear that Grahame understood longing for the divine. Humans are separated from God. It’s the worst sort of perversion imaginable. Worse than stealing a baby from its mother. We’re separated from the sole source of joy and life. And yet we go through life hardly ever noticing it. But sometimes we catch a sent, a sight, a sound that reminds us of our loss. And that’s what Rat feels:

I almost wish I had never heard it. For it has roused a longing in me that is pain, and nothing seems worth while but just to hear that sound once more and go on listening to it for ever.

There a lot more to think about in this chapter. What did you all think?

Chapter 6: Mr. Toad

So is everyone back and ready to pick up where we left off? I hope so. We’re heading into the second half of Wind in the Willows and the plot picks up a bit as we get more of the amazing Mr. Toad.

Where do you start with someone like Toad? He’s amazingly annoying and endearing at the same time. He has no shame at all and yet he’s very conceited. One moment he thinks he’s king of the world and the next moment he’s screaming and crying and begging for mercy. He has absolutely no self-control.

Who else sees a bit of themselves in Toad? When the Badger gives his long lecture and Toad is weeping, and yet he’s immediately back to himself in minutes. Have you ever sat through a good sermon, been on the verge of tears and full of repentance, and yet that very day gone back to the sin you were so remorseful for? A bit Toad-ish of us, eh.

Or how about when we think we’re very cool, sophisticated, or smart. I look at that picture of Toad in his driving outfit and he looks so silly, but Toad thinks he’s a king in those clothes. As Badger says:

At this very moment, perhaps, Toad is busy arraying himself in those singularly hideous habiliments so dear to him, which transform him from a (comparatively) good-looking Toad into an Object which throws any decent-minded animal that comes across it into a violent fit.

The fun part about Toad is that we can laugh about him. We find our friends being Toad-like, I think the best thing we can do is laugh about it. Sometimes we have to be like Badger, Mole, and Rat and step in and help him–but we always need to keep our affection. That’s the sweet part about this chapter, they are trying to help their friend.

One unrelated thing that cracks me up, I think it’s halarious how everyone acts like Toad is a dangerous rouge:

`Oddsbodikins!’ said the sergeant of police, taking off his helmet and wiping his forehead. `Rouse thee, old loon, and take over from us this vile Toad, a criminal of deepest guilt and matchless artfulness and resource. Watch and ward him with all thy skill; and mark thee well, greybeard, should aught untoward befall, thy old head shall answer for his — and a murrain on both of them!’

What did you think?

Taking this friday off

I think we’ll take this Friday off to let those on vacation do their vacationy things. We’ll jump into Mr. Toad’s adventures next week.

Here’s something for all you MST3K fans instead (seriously watch it!):

I finished my book last night.

Writing a book is hard. There are some people like Stephen King who pump out books of reasonable quality at lightspeed. C.S. Lewis wrote his first book (a great one!) in just two weeks. I don’t understand that. If you notice, most authors, even great ones only write one or two books. Kenneth Grhame only wrote three and only one (Wind in the Willows) remains consistently in print.

I decided that I wanted to write books when I was eighteen, before Jack was born, just after I married the Attractive One. There was something about commuting down to Sacramento every day, being alone with my thoughts that made me think about stories. I was really bored, in other words.

I’ve written consistently ever since then and I’ve started a huge number of stories. I’ve only finished two. And nobody is banging down my door claiming that I’m the next Christopher Paolini begging to sign me to huge publishing contracts with movie rights attached (he he, I couldn’t resist). Point being, I’m still not very good. I’m really not fishing for compliments so don’t reply with “But, Levi, I liked your story!”. I’m just saying that writing is hard work. It’s one thing to begin a story but to come away with something that is readable and makes sense when you’re done (if you even finish it in the first place) is tough, tough. And usually you wont even finish your story. It’s easy to tell when you have a stinker on your hands and you’ll be dying to drop it before flies start gathering.

But last night I finished book number two. Now I’m going to have to go back and fix it. And even if I polish it til it shines–it won’t be as good as Wind in the Willows. I hope every appreciates wonderful books like the one Mr. Grahame gave us. They are very rare.

Chapter 5: Dulce Domum

It’s strange, but I used to not like this chapter. So much that I almost always skipped over it. Reading it now, I think I was crazy. I love this chapter.

Dulce Domum is latin for “Sweetly at Home”. Very appropriate. The entire chapter reminds of the feeling I get when I’ll walk by a house that I grew up in. All the memories come rushing back and, like the Mole, it makes me want to go back for just a bit. In this chapter the Mole gets to go back for an evening. And how fun that he gets to bring his new friend with him into his past.

If you could do what mole does and bring a friend to look into your past, what house would you bring that person back to? I know the house I would go to.

And doesn’t Ratty shine in this chapter?

What did you all think? (I had to include this picture of the field mice. Aren’t they cute!)