The Least of These My Brothers - Harold Bell Wright

I like turn-of-the-century Christian fiction. In the contemporary market of the time, moral ambiguity was the defining feature of literature, but Christian literature was razor-sharp, utterly void of any shade of gray. Rather than reflecting the mediocre reality of the world around them, these novels present the ideal, the firm convictions that Christians ought to hold, the dedication to service that we should all strive.

This is epitomized in The Least of These My Brothers. Originally published as a magazine series under the title of That Printer of Udell's, this novel presents a world that is both frighteningly real and firmly ambitious. Harold Bell Wright, a mining-city pastor, grieved over the sad state of the poor in his community, and his parishoners' attitudes that church was little more than a social club, and wrote this story as a response.

Dick Falkner, a penniless, unemployed printer, drifts into Boyd City in hopes of finding work. Through the kindness of a print shop owner named Udell, he does, and slowly becomes involved in a local church. His past experiences as a homeless drifter give him a different perspective on the social structure of the church, and Christianity as a whole. He motivates the young people of the church on a series of projects aimed at serving the poor of the community, specifically the endless string of unemployed men whose only solace is alcohol and brothels.

This is met with protest and resistance from some class-conscious church members, who believe their wealth and percieved social status sets them apart from the 'common herd'. Because of his passion for service and his practical ideas, Falkner rises as a leader, while men from wealthier and more influential backgrounds seethe with jealousy at the respect he's garnered. When a wealthy young woman falls in love with him, both her father and brother determine to end the romance. The seething underbelly of the city rises to the surface, and we see that the root of problems there are not the poor, but the cruel wealthy, who will stop at nothing to get what they want. A murder is revealed, a cruel father casts his daughter out into the streets, and a selfish man destroys everyone around him in his quest to ruin Falkner.

The book is not without it's problems. It really is melodramatic, and the convoluted plots the characters weave to reveal one another's secrets, and keep their own, can be difficult to follow. In the end, it's difficult to understand exactly what the main villain of the text was working towards to begin with. But I still recommend it, for three reasons. First, though there are romances, they do not take center stage. They are simply a side benefit to the main work of the text, that is, Dick Falkner's and an entire city's journey to redemption. Second, the best examples of Christian living are those characters who do not claim to be good Christians, but work to live their lives according to Christ's teachings. Third, and most importantly, the message of Christ is so firmly and wonderfully woven into the story that it makes it sheer joy to read. It's not just about knowing Christ in this novel, but living Him.

Highly Recommended.

Soul Survivor - Philip Yancey

The full title of this text is Soul Survivor: How Thirteen Unlikely Mentors Helped My Faith Survive the Church. And I was given this book by a pastor, of all people.

I've thanked him.

I like Yancey for many reasons. First of all, he's not afraid to ask the hard questions. He's written a book called Disappointment with God (to be reviewed once I manage to get all the way through it) that asks some seriously hard questions. The questions are so hard I have a difficult time thinking about them. Second, I like Yancey because he likes to poke at those aspects of Christianity nobody wants to talk about anymore, particularly the way that, for centuries, God's Holy Word was used to justify slavery and racism. He's made a lot of people angry, talking about that, but he doesn't stop. And he can't stop, because it's still happening today. There are still regions of the US and Canada where being a blatant racist and advertising hate is perfectly societally acceptable, and even the church won't do anything about it. Third, I like Yancey because he can find the Light in the gray areas. And that, in essence, is what Soul Survivor is all about.

When Yancey says 'unlikely mentors', he means it. The thirteen individuals discussed in this book are not all the ones preached about on Sunday as an example of perfect Christianity. However, Yancey discusses their lives, sorts through their lives, and points out where one can find extraordinary lessons about God in each of their lives. He begins with Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Within this narrative, Yancey forthrightly admits his early experiences with racism, how he learned it within the sanctuary of a church. King had an absolute commitment to nonviolence, which in turn, and deliberately, exposed racism for the hateful, disgusting thing that it is. Yancey's heart was turned, as were millions of others. Yancey is also honest in discussing King's own apparent failures, but leaves no doubt in anyone's mind as to the extraordinary impact on both himself and the rest of America.

Though King is often hailed as a Christian hero, and rightfully so, not all of Yancey's mentors follow suit. He discusses Mahatma Ghandi, India's 'Great Soul', who led India to freedom from colonial rule through absolute nonviolent civil disobedience. Ghandi changed the way a nation, and much of the world, thought about the poor, the downtrodden, the 'untouchable'. He preferred to live and sleep in the dirtiest, most dangerous slums even when he was invited to a king's palace. He would not elevate himself above any man, but demanded that those around him treat one another with absolute love and respect. Sound like anyone else you've heard of?

Ghandi openly rejected Christianity.

Yancey still calls him a mentor. The truth of the matter is, Ghandi did not embrace Christianity, but he read about, and tried hard to embody, many of Christ's teachings. In an age where Jesus's own words were being used to justify colonialism, class systems, and many other forms of bigotry, hatred, and domination, that aspect of Christ's love was sorely needed.

Yancey goes on. He discusses Dr. Paul Brand, whose work dramatically furthered the field of leprosy treatment, but whose drive was fueled by a Christ-given love and compassion for those he served. There's Tolstoy and Dostoevsky, whose controversial, tortured works and lives represent a struggle for redemption from which we can all learn. There's English writer GK Chesterton, whose absentminded scribblings still managed to convey profound truths. There's C. Everett Koop, the reluctant surgeon general who struggled to maintain his faith and integrity in a tumultuous period in American social history. There's Annie Dillard, the Pulitzer prizewinner whose writings inspired a nation, but whose fame exacted a sizeable toll. In each of the chapters, he discusses the church's reaction to these mentors, and exposes, sometimes painfully so, the deep and alarming flaws apparent within the church system today.

Yancey is a journalist by trade, so his writing is a pleasure to read. He's clear and wonderfully concise, and weaves through such fantastic little sensual details, you get completely drawn in. He's not an easy read. For the non-Christian, you might be gleeful to find a discussion of a problem within the Christian church, but in the next sentence, you'll see precisely why this issue must be forgiven and why you should embrace God's love anyhow. For the Christian, it's not easy to read about imperfect people having a huge impact on someone's faith, especially if they're someone who has been vilified within the church. It's also painful to read about the flaws in our own system, because Yancey doesn't simply say "you're imperfect, but God loves you anyway so don't worry about it." Yancey calls us to struggle to move beyond that, to take the lessons from the imperfect lives and faiths in order to try and perfect our own. He does not allow for mediocrity or apathy, which is perhaps what he's been speaking against through the whole book.

Highly Recommended.

The Widow of Larkspur Inn - Lawana Blackwell

Lawana Blackwell is one of those authors who doesn't hit her stride right away (the Victorian Serenade series, her first, is out of print and for good reason) but when she hits it, she hits it hard. The Gresham Chronicles is her second series, and in my opinion, the best contemporarily-written Christian Victorian series out there. And I read all of them. I probably wouldn't have student loan debt if I didn't buy books. Yes, Blackwell hit her stride in this series.

It's a simple enough premise: In the mid nineteent-century, Julia Hollis, the widow of a wealthy doctor discovers that her husband's gambling debts have eaten up the family fortune, and she and her children have no money, but one remaining asset, an old coaching inn in a dairying village called Gresham. Together with her three children and dear friend/chambermaid Fiona, she sets out to Gresham, determined to convert the coaching inn into a boardinghouse so she can maintain an income for herself and her family.

Various adventures, both romantic and spiritual, ensue, but the real treat of this novel is the characters. Blackwell creates such a charming, delicious cast of characters who interact in such amusing and poingiant ways that you're sincerely sorry when the tale is over. Though Julia Hollis is calm and ladylike, she is surrounded by such a vibrant, eccentric bunch of people it's a small wonder she doesn't lift her silk skirts and run back to London. There's the elderly, imperious Mrs. Kingston, who has both a tender heart and a viciously clever mind, but few can see it beneath her harsh exterior. There's the ancient sisters Iris and Jewel Worthy, who keep a close watch on the town while spinning lace on their front porch. There's the actor Ambrose Clay, whose sorrowful eyes carry dark burdens. Julia even discovers secrets among her own brood, the pain her son is trying to hide, and the hidden past of Fiona. Perhaps the most intriguing character of all, at least to Julia, is the village's new vicar, who, like Julia, is widowed, and struggling to raise children who are difficult to understand.

The spiritual message is strong, and the varying adventures of the villagers are enough to keep you engrossed and in stitches for hours. A total must-read for women, as well as those men who don't mind showing their softer side. Reviews of the other three Gresham books to come, including the newest, the Jewel of Gresham Green.

Highly Recommended.

The Last Sin Eater - Francine Rivers

"The first time I saw the sin eater was the night Granny Forbes was carried to her grave. I was very young, and Granny my dearest companion, and I was very troubled in my mind."

Thus begins what I believe to be the pinnacle work of Francine Rivers's career, at least thus far. Rivers has never shied away from the controversial - she's written about rape, abortion and child prostitution, to name a few, but it is this foray into a little-known, less-discussed aspect of European-American church history that's created what might be the most memorable novel I've ever read.

Cadi Forbes, a ten-year-old girl living in an isolated Appalachian valley in the mid-1800's, is racked with guilt over her role in her younger sister's tragic death. Desperate to find some sort of redeption, and theoretically earn back her mother's love, she seeks out the most loathed, isolated member of her community - the sin eater. A custom carried over from Scotland and Wales, the sin eater takes upon himself the sins of the newly-dead so that they might enter heaven. As Cadi and her friend Fagan search for this man so that Cadi might have her sins taken now, they instead come across a Man of God, a man from other parts, who has come to the valley to preach the gospel to their little community. Hated and feared by Brogan Kai, the de facto leader of the area, the Man of God manages to teach the Truth of the Gospel to the two children, who must summon the courage to take his words into the valley and tell their families that it is the Savior, not the scapegoat, who is the way of their salvation. They must also tell the sin eater himself, whose only comfort over two decades of isolation has been that he believed his sacrifice has benefitted his community.

The Gospel is presented beautifully and clearly in this text, written in such a refreshion, passionate fashion that it felt as though I was reading it for the first time. Rivers writes a story here, not a sermon, and the vivid point of view, that of a ten-year-old child, never wavers in the least. Cadi's youthful mind filters the world around her in a truly remarkable fashion, bringing a wisdom beyond her years to the cataclysmic events at hand. Though I wept, shook, even prayed at moments, I closed this book with a smile on my face. I do every time.

I cannot recommend this highly enough. It's on my deserted-island list - along with the Bible, the Complete Works of Shakespeare, and A Practical Guide to Shipbuilding.

Single Sashimi - Camy Tang

I've been waiting for this one. Sushi for One caught my eye because it was the first time I'd ever seen my favourite food mentioned in a Christian bookstore, and I was hooked by the first paragraph. Single Sashimi, the third in Camy Tang's Sushi Series, does not disappoint.

Though primarily focused on Venus, one of the four lone Christian cousins in a big, loud, extended Japanese-Chinese-American family living in Silicon Valley, Single Sashimi does bring satisfying updates to the continuing stories of Lex, Trish and Jennifer. Venus, however, is at the forefront, and it's wonderful to see that character fleshed out. Formerly dowdy, now beautiful Venus is struggling to be treated as an equal among the arrogant male gaming executives she calls her colleagues. After being condescended to one too many times because of her gender and good looks, Venus leaves her company, intending to start her own. However, she needs finanfical backers, and a job in the meantime. Enter Drake Yau, the most arrogant and condescending male executives she's ever worked for, the one who pushed her into the lowest moment of her career. Though the opportunity he offers her is terrific, Venus is wary of being around him once again, in spite of the evidence that he's changed.

Tang's knowledge and presentation of the cutthroat gaming industry is excellent, woven so seamlessly into the narrative that it feels part of, rather than an addition to, the story. Grandma, the high-powered, painfully controlling family matriarch and one of the primary antagonists in both Sushi for One and Only Uni shows a refreshingly kind side in this text, rounding out one of the very few characters in the whole series that is in any danger of becoming a stock stereotype.

If I need to find a flaw in this book, it's that it's seriously light on the spiritual side. Venus, through her volunteer work with a local youth group, is supposed to undertake some sort of spiritual journey, but if she's actually doing that, it's difficult to see. It would have made the change the character undergoes in the text far more powerful and impactful, but it's still an excellent story. And I'm still craving dumplings.

Highly Recommended. Go Camy!

Jessie - Lori WIck

Often, after I finish a Lori Wick book, I promise myself I'll never buy another one. I did that tonight. I may end up breaking my promise to myself yet again, but that was the feeling that Jessie, the third novel in the Big Sky Dreams trilogy, left me with.

As usual, Wick has a wonderful plot premise here. After a brief, tension-ridden marriage, Seth abandons Jessie and their infant daughter Hannah, unaware that he has also left Jessie pregnant with their second child. Jessie goes on with life, raising her girls, and running her store. Eight years pass, and Seth returns, fresh out of prison, a man changed by Christ, determined to make things right.

Wonderful, right?

Wrong.

Wick, in spite of all her great ideas, struggles with writing characters with believable thoughts, personalities, or emotions, and Jessie and Seth might very well be the worst of the lot. They are merely names in a drone of encounters and conversations that might be designed to show their growing love for one another, but fail to impart any sort of emotional reaction in the reader. Jessie, aside from insisting she needs time to 'think' shows no emotion or thought at the reappearance of her husband, and Seth is simply a floating presence who moves improbably quickly back into his family's lives. There is no tension, no excitement, and the inevitable conclusion arrives with all the fanfare of a traffic light turn.

The 'fun' link to another, slightly better, trilogy (Yellow Rose), is actually painful, because it harkens to the most improbable, ridiculous plotline in the whole of that series. The Seth shown in Jessie is not the man from A Texas Sky, changed by Christ, he is a completely different character. The name is the same, that's about it.

Some of Wick's earlier works were very good. Sophie's Heart is extraordinary; I still read it from time to time. Pretense and Bamboo and Lace are still worth picking up, and the Californian series, for the flaws it does have, is an engaging read, providing spunky, lively, well-drawn, (if a little cliche) characters. Even the Kensington Chronicles have something lush and compelling in them, if you ignore the historical improbabilities, and just enjoy the passionate intensity of the characters and the more probable emotional plotlines. But now wonder if Wick has gotten lazy. Her books sell because of her name on them. Good or bad, they will sell, so is it worth the extra effort to make them good? Wick is better than this; she's proved herself as such. And I do hope, in Chestnut Valley Farm, she can live up to her potential. We, her patient and faithful readers, deserve it.

Not Recommended.

Miranda - Grace Livingston Hill

I actually rushed through Phoebe Deane, eager to get to the last book of the Miranda series, and found myself a little disappointed. Miranda Griscom, the feisty redheaded sidekick and guardian angel to both Marcia Schuyler and Phoebe Deane, finally got her own book, and presumably her own (well-deserved) romance, and I was thrilled to see it, but after reading the novel, I'm a little ambivalent.

Between Miranda's memories and the story itself, the novel spans about twenty years. To summarize, a young Miranda, who has long regarded with compassion the teacher's abuse on older student (and object of her affections) Allan Whitney, was horrified to realize that he'd been accused of murder. Convinced of his innocence, she helps him escape lockup, and, after a kiss, sends him off, expecting never to see him again.

Many years later, after she's happily established as housekeeper for her beloved Marcia Spafford, she thinks through the night of the murder and brilliantly deduces that a friend of Allan's was in fact the real killer, and, though a series of deceptful, yet clever plots, exposes him and clears Allan's name. Coincidentally, a missionary visits, and mentions in passing of a man named Whitney he's met from the Oregon territory, and Miranda is able to contact him once again, and the two lovers are reunited.

Overall, it's a sweet plot, if one can overlook the massively unlikely coincidences and Miranda's deceptive plots, that, this time, border on the occult as she fakes a ghost in a fit of 'mesmerism'. Don't get me wrong, I love Miranda's plotting skills, but I wonder at the wisdom of bringing in the occult to a novel such as this. The problem with this novel is the pacing, and the massive influx of unneccessary information. Hill deserves to be commended for her research; she provides wonderful, and accurate, insight into the history of New York and America as a whole during the 1830s and early 1840s, including the invention of the telegraph, but there are many points where this overshadows the story, and I'm not certain whether I'm reading a history text or a novel. The steam engine in Marcia Schuyler and the early abolition movement in Phoebe Deane are far more skillfully woven into the story than the history in Miranda.

If you love Miranda Griscom, though, this is well worth the read, if only to see more of her adventures. If you haven't read the others in the series, however, don't bother with this one.

Phoebe Deane - Grace Livingston Hill

I was thrilled to discover that my longtime favourite Marcia Schuyler is actually the first of a trilogy - the Miranda Series, and even more thrilled to realize that www.chapters.indigo.ca has all three books on sale for $3.50 each. Miranda, the scruffy, motormouthed orphan girl whose plain speech belies a keen intelligence, and acts as a guardian angel for the Spaffords in Marcia Schuyler, reappears, much to my delight, in Phoebe Deane. Now the well-loved housekeeper for her dear Spaffords, rather than the despised maid-of-all-work for her grandmother, Miranda keeps a keen eye on the happenings of the village, and works her magic on others she feel deserve her help. In this case, five years after she acted as guardian and matchmaker for the Spaffords, it's Phoebe Deane.

Phoebe Deane, an eighteen-year-old girl living with her timid half-brother Albert and cruel, overbearing sister-in-law Emmaline, feels she has nothing to look forward to in her life but endless drudge work and unwanted marriage suits by unkind, uncaring men. She clings to the few lovely things in her life, including letters from her long-dead mother, and the pretty dresses and gift she was left. A chance encounter in the woods leads her to Nathaniel Graham, a young lawyer who is, against the wishes of his family, drawn to the burgeoning Abolition movement in 1935 New York. The two begin a quiet, clandestine courtship, while crude widower Hiram Green sets his sights on Phoebe, first for her excellent work ethic, and then simply as a power game - he's insulted that he rejects her. Hiram grows crueller and more manipulative in his obsession to possess Phoebe, while she, with the help of trickster Miranda and the kindhearted Marcia Schuyler Spafford, continues her relationship with Nathaniel. As Hiram and Emmaline grow vicious, Miranda must draw on every bit of her courage and wily resourcefulness to help her friend find a happy ending.

I love Miranda. She's reminiscent of another of my favourite heroines - the immortal Anne of Green Gables. Redheaded, orphaned, verbose, and spirited, Miranda has that same sort of spark that draws us to Anne, though she certainly lacks the refinement that Anne gained over time. Though Montgomery and Hill wrote at the same time, Hill's heroine is content to remain in her 'place' - as a servant, while Anne ends up a refined - albeit spirited, society matron. But Miranda is clever. Oh, she is clever, and she's bright enough to use the social conventions of her status - nobody questions an unmarried servant girl scrambling across fields and ducking behind woodsheds - to help the delicate, seemingly helpless young maidens around here.

In a way, I like Phoebe as a heroine better than Marcia, for Phoebe is not as passive. She defends herself against her unkind sister-in-law, and goes on a hunger strike rather than marry the man she does not love. She's even brave enough to jump from a moving wagon. She's also courageous enough to go against the thinking of the time, desire to educate herself, and support her abolitionist suitor though his views are unpopular. The descriptions are not as rich as in Marcia Schuyler, but Miranda fairly sparkles, and Nathaniel Graham, the hero, is presented as a man with both flaws and strengths, and is far more real-thinking than Marcia Schuyler's David Spafford, whose blind, obsessive love for a beautiful, but cruel and selfish woman, nearly destroys his marriage.

Highly recommended.

Sabrina - Lori Wick

I was thrilled when I first saw the summary for Sabrina, the second book in Wick's Big Sky Dreams trilogy. The title character is a prostitute, which is, to say the least, an unusual occupation for the heroine of a work of Christian fiction. It's a stretch for Wick, who tends to stick to a very safe, conservative line of storytelling, so I was really interested in what she'd do.

And yes, I was painfully disappointed. I've read, both fiction and nonfiction, about the lives of prostitutes in nineteenth-century North America, and Wick presents such a painfully sanitized version it's almost impossible to read. Yes, she caters to a conservative readership. But even conservative people understand that the lives of prostitutes were never pretty, nor were they relatively safe, tidy, and without contracts, madames, pimps, violent johns, diseases and social stigma.

The novel itself is the story of Sabrina, a young prostitute in Denver who is convinced by a caring police officer and his former-prostitute wife to leave her way of life and turn herself over to Jesus. That itself is wonderful. I'm sure there were young women who were given such a gift in 1880's Western America. Sabrina, afraid of the men who continue to ask to be serviced by her (never growing rude or violent), chooses to leave Denver for Token Creek, Montana, where she is instantly and miraculously taken in by the whole town. She begins a thriving ministry to the independent, madame-and-pimp-less prostitutes in town, whose feelings actually get hurt when their customers are attracted to other women. She falls in love with a man who does not even flinch at her past, in spite of the fact that, in that time period, in that location, a woman with even one lover in her past would be considered ruined and unmarriable. In general, the highly sanitized process Wick presents is so glaringly impossible it takes a great deal away from what could be a great story. Yes, God can help humans to forgive one another, but that takes time, thought, and inner struggle, and a great deal of prayer.

Not Recommended, for the fact that Wick ignored some really extraordinary opportunities here. There are far better ways to spend reading time than reading this particular book.

Cassidy - Lori Wick

The first Lori Wick book I ever read was Sophie's Heart, and I remember thinking 'wow, this writer's incredible. What attention to quality and detail!"

I've changed my mind.

On the one hand, Wick is prolific, versatile, and does have an enviable ability to come up with new and interesting plot ideas. However, I'd love to sit down with her and give her some brief lessons in research, consistency, and characterization.

Don't get me wrong, Cassidy isn't completely unfortunate. Wick's gift for originality and interesting plotlines comes to the forefront yet again. The book itself is the story of Cassidy, a young woman who has mysteriously come alone to the small Montana town of Token Creek to open a dress shop. She's befriended by various members of the town, and but works hard to keep her past a secret. There is the inevitable love story with the local man, which is threatened by the disappointingly lame secret from Cassidy's past.

So why did I read it, and why have I read it a second time? The answer again goes back to Wick's skill in spinning plots. In this case, it's a series of interesting subplots, including Theta Holden, a woman who has been permanently brain damaged after a severe beating from her husband, and Jessie, owner of the local dry goods store, who is a single mother with two young children. In the Big Sky Dreams trilogy (watch for reviews of the other novels soon), Wick does take a darker, and possibly more realistic turn, in her content, than she ever has before. Spousal abuse and abandonement, and violence are present, in ways that they haven't been in her previous work. The next books get even darker.

I know people who like Wick's work for the spiritual message, the content of which she does very well. However, she presents it in sermon form, so much so that the story gets interrupted by what feels like a dry Sunday-morning sermon. There are ways to present spiritual truth within a story without preaching, but it's rare that Wick's work evinces any of this.

Whether or not this book is recommended depends entirely on what you want out of a read. There is something about Wick's work, in spite of its flaws, that is compelling. Do you want to think, or do you just want to relax for a little while? That will determine whether or not you want to read this. And right now, I'm waiting for the painfully slow Canadian postal service to deliver Jessie.