Wednesday, August 6, 2008
September Reading
Our September reading selection will be Alexandre Dumás' novel, The Count of Monte Cristo. Please read it in time for our next book club meeting. We suggest that you write a brief response to each month's reading. Feel free to post it here!
O.M.M. - Kristi's Response
I just finished reading Of Mice and Men less than five minutes ago. I already knew the general plot: I knew Lennie would kill Curley’s wife, and I knew that George would kill Lennie in the end. Knowing what to expect from the end of the book, I did not expect to feel as emotional about it as I do. If a month ago anyone had told me that in the next book I would read about how a man shot another man in the back of the head, I would have expected to feel disgust. Instead, I thought it was a beautiful act of compassion.
Although I enjoyed this story of an unlikely friendship that depicts the human need to find value through relationships, I found that my secondary response to the story has overshadowed my primary response. My primary response to the book was to feel a sense of respect for the friendship of George and Lennie, and to feel sad over the fact that their relationship could not last in the world in which they lived. My secondary response, however, was to be surprised as I evaluated my own reaction to the final scene of the story.
As long as I can remember, I’ve always had a very strong sense of right and wrong. Wrong things included lying, stealing and killing. Right things, then, were honesty, generosity and preserving the sanctity of life. Being raised in a staunchly pro-life family, I have generally seen value in all human life—infant and adult, regardless of the challenges these individuals may face presently or in the future.
Yet over the years as I have read and heard about many stories of individuals in very tough situations, I have begun to see the world that I once viewed through a black and white lens of morality as a fallen world full of less-than-ideal situations that bring all shades of gray to our lives.
We’ve all heard the story of a young Christian girl, whose family had a hidden compartment under the rug in their dining room for Jews during Hitler’s reign. When the Nazi’s asked here where the Jews were, the truthful girl answered “They’re under the table,” and then began to laugh at the nazi guards as they began to peer below the family’s dining table. The guard ended up leaving, thinking she was playing with him. I have a lot of respect for such a girl, and it’s wonderful that in obeying her conscience, she was still able to save the Jewish families hiding in her house. But what if the Nazi’s had found the hiding place, would her truth-telling still have been the best thing to do? I’m reminded of the midwives in Exodus 1, who disobeyed the Pharaoh’s command and then lied to him about what was happening. In this situation, the women were blessed by GOD for their actions. It appears that untruthful words themselves may not be the issue as much as the heart behind the lie—whether one’s lie is motivated by love or by hate.
I also remember hearing stories about how during times of intense Roman persecution, as Christian families sat in prison cells awaiting their fate of being fed to ravenous lions in the arena the next day, some of these God-fearing parents would lovingly smother their children while they slept in order to spare them the terror and torturous death that the next day would bring. Ten years ago I would have said t these parents were sinning by murdering their children instead of entrusting their fates to God. Now, though, I look upon such acts much differently. The children were already sentenced and their death was imminent, the parents actions were ones of love and compassion. Whether or not God will judge those actions as murderous, I cannot say, but I somehow doubt.
Even as I’m writing this, I’m cringing at the slippery slope that what I’m saying builds. If God can consider some seemingly sinful actions as righteous because of the motive and situation, am I saying that a deluded mass murderer will be seen as right because he thought he was doing what was best? Well….not exactly. I guess what I’m saying is that in a fallen world where our sin and the sin of others has put us in situations that we were never created to be in the first place, sometimes something that seems wrong in other situations just might be the best of several bad choices.
Thus, while in a perfect and sinless world, Lennie’s innocence may not have brought forth such serious consequences, in the world in which he lived he was facing an ugly, hateful fate. While George’s solution makes me sad, the way he went about it was so gentle and loving that I believe Lennie was better off because of them.
How does this transfer to my ethical stance on the topic of euthanasia? I’m not sure. But I do think that in this sinful, fallen world families and individuals may get into very hard situations that we weren’t necessarily created to be in, and that I am going to choose to extend grace to others when they are in those situations, since this world contains all sorts of moral shades of gray.
Although I enjoyed this story of an unlikely friendship that depicts the human need to find value through relationships, I found that my secondary response to the story has overshadowed my primary response. My primary response to the book was to feel a sense of respect for the friendship of George and Lennie, and to feel sad over the fact that their relationship could not last in the world in which they lived. My secondary response, however, was to be surprised as I evaluated my own reaction to the final scene of the story.
As long as I can remember, I’ve always had a very strong sense of right and wrong. Wrong things included lying, stealing and killing. Right things, then, were honesty, generosity and preserving the sanctity of life. Being raised in a staunchly pro-life family, I have generally seen value in all human life—infant and adult, regardless of the challenges these individuals may face presently or in the future.
Yet over the years as I have read and heard about many stories of individuals in very tough situations, I have begun to see the world that I once viewed through a black and white lens of morality as a fallen world full of less-than-ideal situations that bring all shades of gray to our lives.
We’ve all heard the story of a young Christian girl, whose family had a hidden compartment under the rug in their dining room for Jews during Hitler’s reign. When the Nazi’s asked here where the Jews were, the truthful girl answered “They’re under the table,” and then began to laugh at the nazi guards as they began to peer below the family’s dining table. The guard ended up leaving, thinking she was playing with him. I have a lot of respect for such a girl, and it’s wonderful that in obeying her conscience, she was still able to save the Jewish families hiding in her house. But what if the Nazi’s had found the hiding place, would her truth-telling still have been the best thing to do? I’m reminded of the midwives in Exodus 1, who disobeyed the Pharaoh’s command and then lied to him about what was happening. In this situation, the women were blessed by GOD for their actions. It appears that untruthful words themselves may not be the issue as much as the heart behind the lie—whether one’s lie is motivated by love or by hate.
I also remember hearing stories about how during times of intense Roman persecution, as Christian families sat in prison cells awaiting their fate of being fed to ravenous lions in the arena the next day, some of these God-fearing parents would lovingly smother their children while they slept in order to spare them the terror and torturous death that the next day would bring. Ten years ago I would have said t these parents were sinning by murdering their children instead of entrusting their fates to God. Now, though, I look upon such acts much differently. The children were already sentenced and their death was imminent, the parents actions were ones of love and compassion. Whether or not God will judge those actions as murderous, I cannot say, but I somehow doubt.
Even as I’m writing this, I’m cringing at the slippery slope that what I’m saying builds. If God can consider some seemingly sinful actions as righteous because of the motive and situation, am I saying that a deluded mass murderer will be seen as right because he thought he was doing what was best? Well….not exactly. I guess what I’m saying is that in a fallen world where our sin and the sin of others has put us in situations that we were never created to be in the first place, sometimes something that seems wrong in other situations just might be the best of several bad choices.
Thus, while in a perfect and sinless world, Lennie’s innocence may not have brought forth such serious consequences, in the world in which he lived he was facing an ugly, hateful fate. While George’s solution makes me sad, the way he went about it was so gentle and loving that I believe Lennie was better off because of them.
How does this transfer to my ethical stance on the topic of euthanasia? I’m not sure. But I do think that in this sinful, fallen world families and individuals may get into very hard situations that we weren’t necessarily created to be in, and that I am going to choose to extend grace to others when they are in those situations, since this world contains all sorts of moral shades of gray.
Friday, August 1, 2008
August Reading
Our August reading selection will be John Steinbeck's short novel, Of Mice and Men. Please read it in time for our next book club meeting. We suggest that you write a brief response to each month's reading. Feel free to post it here!
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Les Mis - Kristi's Response
Redemptive transformation. The movement from darkness to light, from falsehood to truth, from self to God and from destruction to life. This is the self-described plot of Victor Hugo’s novel, Les Miserables. (p. 1074) The story details the transformation of Jean Valjean, who entered the story as a man who would steal for his physical need and left the story as a man who was willing to sacrifice even his greatest emotional needs in order to do what he deemed best for others. What were the means of his transformation? There were three: sacrifice, love and suffering. Hugo indicates that the sacrifice Bishop Bienvenue incarnated to Valjean the sacrifice of Jesus—that one so revered would give what he had to bring a convict to a better life. Although Hugo doesn’t explicitly speak of Valjean’s turn to Jesus, from then on in the story, shows tenderness and veneration before crucifixes, and refers to Jesus as “the great martyr”.(p.174,1256) First he develops kindness as Monsieur Madeleine, and then he learns to love as Monsieur Fauchelevent while he cares for and protects the child Cosette. But what completes his transformation, is when he yields to suffering by sacrificing what is most precious to him—Cosette’s reliance upon him—in order to secure her her happiness. At the end of his transformation, Valjean looks more like the Bishop than the man he had been.
Other characters experience similar transformations on a smaller scale. Marius a spoiled boy, raised by his rich grandfather, and taught to despise his father. His transformation begins on the day that he discovers the sacrifice his father had made for him—giving up the right to see his son in order that his son might be well cared for. Marius leaves the comforts of his grandfather’s home and braves the hardship of poverty. Soon he falls in love with a young woman, with whom he quickly loses all means of contact. At the loss of this love, he suffers greatly. At the end of the story, his love having been restored, as well has his relationship with his grandfather, we see him as a young man with strong and unfaltering convictions, who tries to do what is right and is quick to apologize when his judgment is proven wrong. Fantine also, is a character who begins a naïve girl, and after suffering and sacrificing the daughter she loves, is portrayed in a good light.
In contrast to the transforming characters are two who seem unable to change. One is Thenardier, a thieving ingrate who, even when shown kindness, cannot give it. He is a dark man with a dark soul, and one assumes he will experience a dark afterlife. The second non-transforming character is Javert. Javert, while a just and honest man, cannot fathom the ideas of kindness and love, sacrifice, or undeserved suffering. He sees the world and people in black and white and cannot accept that a person who used to deserve suffering could now merit kindness. When Valjean treats him with kindness, his ideology is torn. Rather than suffer through the painful reflection and humility it would take to alter his world view, he chooses to end his struggle by killing himself. The fate of these inflexible characters is sad, and stands in contrast to the joy and redemption experienced by those who experience transformation by means of sacrifice, suffering and love.
Other characters experience similar transformations on a smaller scale. Marius a spoiled boy, raised by his rich grandfather, and taught to despise his father. His transformation begins on the day that he discovers the sacrifice his father had made for him—giving up the right to see his son in order that his son might be well cared for. Marius leaves the comforts of his grandfather’s home and braves the hardship of poverty. Soon he falls in love with a young woman, with whom he quickly loses all means of contact. At the loss of this love, he suffers greatly. At the end of the story, his love having been restored, as well has his relationship with his grandfather, we see him as a young man with strong and unfaltering convictions, who tries to do what is right and is quick to apologize when his judgment is proven wrong. Fantine also, is a character who begins a naïve girl, and after suffering and sacrificing the daughter she loves, is portrayed in a good light.
In contrast to the transforming characters are two who seem unable to change. One is Thenardier, a thieving ingrate who, even when shown kindness, cannot give it. He is a dark man with a dark soul, and one assumes he will experience a dark afterlife. The second non-transforming character is Javert. Javert, while a just and honest man, cannot fathom the ideas of kindness and love, sacrifice, or undeserved suffering. He sees the world and people in black and white and cannot accept that a person who used to deserve suffering could now merit kindness. When Valjean treats him with kindness, his ideology is torn. Rather than suffer through the painful reflection and humility it would take to alter his world view, he chooses to end his struggle by killing himself. The fate of these inflexible characters is sad, and stands in contrast to the joy and redemption experienced by those who experience transformation by means of sacrifice, suffering and love.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
July Reading
Our July reading selection will be Victor Hugo's novel, Les Miserables. You may choose to read a full translation or an abridged version. Please read it in time for our next book club meeting. We suggest that you write a brief response to each month's reading. Feel free to post it here!
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
T.I.B.E. - Kristi's Response
The Importance of Being Earnest was a humorous play full of the sort of quick-witted conversation that makes me smile. However, there was also an aspect of the play that made me a bit sad. I think that perhaps I’ve become hypersensitive to low views of women because of my recent church experiences, and as I read Wilde’s play, I was struck by how flat the female characters were. It’s not as if the men themselves were terribly deep, but the young women were portrayed as silly, irrational dreamers who cared little for the fact that they were ill-treated and lied to by the men that they fell in love with simply for their name. They seemed fickle and childish. The older two women were not portrayed much better. Lady Bracknell is portrayed as an unfeeling woman whose highest values are money and the favorable opinion of high society. Miss Prism, the governess, appears to be so flighty as to be able to mix up a baby and a novel (as well as a handbag and a bassinet) and then irresponsibly leave the baby and run away rather than correcting her mistake. As I read, I found myself irritated first by the women themselves, and then by the author who created such flat, irrational characters. In the end though, I figure that if I were to remove my hypersensitivity I would be able to acknowledge that the play was light, witty and entertaining.
Favorite Passages*
*Pages according to my copy in “The Modern Library Classics” collection.
Favorite Passages*
- p. 192-193 – Lady Bracknell’s tirade against the invalid Bunbury
- p. 198-199 – Jack explains his adoption to Lady Bracknell
- p. 221-226 – Gwendolyn and Cecily meet
- p. 227 (1st half) – Gwendolyn and Cecily become friends.
*Pages according to my copy in “The Modern Library Classics” collection.
Sunday, June 1, 2008
June Reading
Our June reading selection will be Oscar Wilde's play, The Importance of Being Earnest. Please read it in time for our next book club meeting. We suggest that you write a brief response to each month's reading. Feel free to post it here!
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