You’d think that COVID-19 forcing me to stay indoors would mean getting more reading done.
You’d be wrong. For one thing, I’ve been working from home for years, so my daily routine hasn’t changed much, except that my mother-in-law (what is 92, bless her) who lives with us is now home all the time because the day care center she usually attends is closed for obvious reasons. And she needs constant care because she can do very little by herself, so that’s taking up all the free time I’m supposed to have reading books or watching all these free videos and online concerts and what have you.
Also, I used to do a lot of reading while traveling on public transport, which allowed me to read two books at a time – which of course isn’t happening now.
So it’s a good thing I cut down my Reading Challenge target this year, is what I’m saying.
Still, it will be a good experiment to see what happens when I read just one book at a time. What a concept!
Anyway, here’s what I got.
Out of Babylon by Walter Brueggemann
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
A little over a year ago I first heard the idea that the US is the modern equivalent of Babylon – i.e. an empire whose power derives from economic as well as military might, and which espouses a society that values materialism, extravagance, luxury, and the pursuit of sensual pleasure, all of which comes with the trade-off of injustice, poverty, exploitation and oppression (and in the 21st Century version, climate change). And because these values are clearly contrary to what Jesus taught, Christians should be rejecting that empire rather than participating in it. Consequently, this book isn't quite what I was expecting when I picked it up.
Walter Brueggemann’s goal isn't to provide practical advice for opting out of Babylon, but to provide a Scriptural basis for both the US/Babylon analogy and resistance to empire in general. Being an Old Testament scholar, Brueggemann points to the writings of the OT prophets who warned that the Babylonian empire would take over Israel, foretold how God would ultimately restore Israel, and what the Jews in Jerusalem (as well as Jews who were exiled) should be doing in the meantime to avoid being co-opted into Babylon culture at the expense of their own faith and traditions.
That said, Brueggemann argues that for Christians in the US empire, a better model is how Jews responded when the Babylonian empire was replaced with the relatively benign Persian empire – an “accommodation and resistance” model that could perhaps be summed up simply as “playing the empire’s game – without compromising your beliefs – in order to influence it from the inside”. (Which, by no coincidence, is more or less what Jesus instructed his followers to do.)
It’s a challenging read, particularly for any US Christians who might struggle to accept the description of their country as an empire, at least in a bad sense (particularly those who see US military might as a force for good, climate change as theologically impossible, and capitalism as a form of prosperity gospel). Even if you’re onboard with Brueggemann’s basic premise, his academic, intellectual writing style takes isn't exactly breezy. But I found it worth the effort – it’s thought-provoking and almost guaranteed to start an argument, which in this case is a good thing. Also, points for the fact that the book started as (and includes) a meditation on Emmylou Harris’ 2003 song “Time in Babylon”.
Ghost Talkers by Mary Robinette Kowal
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
This is my first time reading Mary Robinette Kowal – I’d hoped to start with her book The Calculating Stars, which looks cool, but I came across this first. At face value it’s not the sort of thing I normally read: World War I alt.history with a cover that practically screams “paranormal romance”. But I liked the basic concept: in WW1, British army intelligence secretly employed mediums to channel the ghosts of British soldiers killed in action to report the last things they saw in case it’s useful.
The story follows Ginger Stuyvesant, a medium and one of the founders of the program, who gets caught in a web of intrigue when the Germans seem to have figured out that the Brits are using ghosts for battlefield intel. Things take a turn for the worse when her fiancé, intel officer Captain Ben Hartford, investigates the possibility of a spy in the Spirit Corps and is consequently murdered – and his ghost can’t rest until Ginger helps him ID the traitor who killed him.
While the relationship between Ginger and Ben is naturally central to the plot, the story isn't your typical paranormal romance – Kowal focuses more on the mole hunt, and makes good use of the paranormal elements at Ginger’s disposal as a medium (although I’m a little skeptical about the lucid dreaming bits, but okay). Kowal also explores some of the ways women actively contributed to the war effort in WW1 on the front lines, which you don't see in your average WW1 novel. (She also touches on the inherent racism of the era, although in perhaps a slightly anachronistic way, but it’s alt.history, so it might be intentional.)
It’s a tad cheesy at times and the ending is a bit messy, but it’s well-paced yarn and a ripping page turner. I really enjoyed this – I’ll definitely be looking for more Kowal books to read.
Jazz by Toni Morrison
My rating: 3 of 5 stars
Having read Toni Morrison for the first time a little while ago with Song of Solomon, I was keen to read more of her work. This seemed like a good follow-up, in no small part because I dig old-school jazz, so a novel set in 1920s Harlem titled Jazz seemed right up my street. Imagine my surprise to find out there’s very little actual jazz in this book – turns out “jazz” is a literary metaphor to the book’s loose structure and the narrations of several principal characters.
Well, that’s the risk of reading an author regarded as such a literary giant that the publisher doesn’t even bother with book-jacket synopses, I guess.
Anyway, the story starts in 1926 with a dramatic and deceptively simple love triangle – Joe Trace shoots his 17-year-old mistress Dorcas, after which his wife Violet goes to her funeral to cut up her face in the casket – then jets back and forth in time to trace their respective family histories dating back to the 19th century Virginia, showing how they ended up in NYC and the events leading to the shooting. Morrison did something similar in Song Of Solomon, but this time I found it more of a distraction to what I considered to be the main story.
I guess you can say it’s like jazz in the sense that it starts off with a basic, pleasing melody then careens off into wild chaotic-sounding improv that suddenly coheres at the end and everything you just heard makes sense. Still, I think it works better with actual jazz than with prose. But Morrison is one of the new novelists that could make it work, and some of the scenes are quite moving, especially by the end.
View all my reviews
On the jazz,
This is dF
You’d be wrong. For one thing, I’ve been working from home for years, so my daily routine hasn’t changed much, except that my mother-in-law (what is 92, bless her) who lives with us is now home all the time because the day care center she usually attends is closed for obvious reasons. And she needs constant care because she can do very little by herself, so that’s taking up all the free time I’m supposed to have reading books or watching all these free videos and online concerts and what have you.
Also, I used to do a lot of reading while traveling on public transport, which allowed me to read two books at a time – which of course isn’t happening now.
So it’s a good thing I cut down my Reading Challenge target this year, is what I’m saying.
Still, it will be a good experiment to see what happens when I read just one book at a time. What a concept!
Anyway, here’s what I got.

My rating: 4 of 5 stars
A little over a year ago I first heard the idea that the US is the modern equivalent of Babylon – i.e. an empire whose power derives from economic as well as military might, and which espouses a society that values materialism, extravagance, luxury, and the pursuit of sensual pleasure, all of which comes with the trade-off of injustice, poverty, exploitation and oppression (and in the 21st Century version, climate change). And because these values are clearly contrary to what Jesus taught, Christians should be rejecting that empire rather than participating in it. Consequently, this book isn't quite what I was expecting when I picked it up.
Walter Brueggemann’s goal isn't to provide practical advice for opting out of Babylon, but to provide a Scriptural basis for both the US/Babylon analogy and resistance to empire in general. Being an Old Testament scholar, Brueggemann points to the writings of the OT prophets who warned that the Babylonian empire would take over Israel, foretold how God would ultimately restore Israel, and what the Jews in Jerusalem (as well as Jews who were exiled) should be doing in the meantime to avoid being co-opted into Babylon culture at the expense of their own faith and traditions.
That said, Brueggemann argues that for Christians in the US empire, a better model is how Jews responded when the Babylonian empire was replaced with the relatively benign Persian empire – an “accommodation and resistance” model that could perhaps be summed up simply as “playing the empire’s game – without compromising your beliefs – in order to influence it from the inside”. (Which, by no coincidence, is more or less what Jesus instructed his followers to do.)
It’s a challenging read, particularly for any US Christians who might struggle to accept the description of their country as an empire, at least in a bad sense (particularly those who see US military might as a force for good, climate change as theologically impossible, and capitalism as a form of prosperity gospel). Even if you’re onboard with Brueggemann’s basic premise, his academic, intellectual writing style takes isn't exactly breezy. But I found it worth the effort – it’s thought-provoking and almost guaranteed to start an argument, which in this case is a good thing. Also, points for the fact that the book started as (and includes) a meditation on Emmylou Harris’ 2003 song “Time in Babylon”.

My rating: 4 of 5 stars
This is my first time reading Mary Robinette Kowal – I’d hoped to start with her book The Calculating Stars, which looks cool, but I came across this first. At face value it’s not the sort of thing I normally read: World War I alt.history with a cover that practically screams “paranormal romance”. But I liked the basic concept: in WW1, British army intelligence secretly employed mediums to channel the ghosts of British soldiers killed in action to report the last things they saw in case it’s useful.
The story follows Ginger Stuyvesant, a medium and one of the founders of the program, who gets caught in a web of intrigue when the Germans seem to have figured out that the Brits are using ghosts for battlefield intel. Things take a turn for the worse when her fiancé, intel officer Captain Ben Hartford, investigates the possibility of a spy in the Spirit Corps and is consequently murdered – and his ghost can’t rest until Ginger helps him ID the traitor who killed him.
While the relationship between Ginger and Ben is naturally central to the plot, the story isn't your typical paranormal romance – Kowal focuses more on the mole hunt, and makes good use of the paranormal elements at Ginger’s disposal as a medium (although I’m a little skeptical about the lucid dreaming bits, but okay). Kowal also explores some of the ways women actively contributed to the war effort in WW1 on the front lines, which you don't see in your average WW1 novel. (She also touches on the inherent racism of the era, although in perhaps a slightly anachronistic way, but it’s alt.history, so it might be intentional.)
It’s a tad cheesy at times and the ending is a bit messy, but it’s well-paced yarn and a ripping page turner. I really enjoyed this – I’ll definitely be looking for more Kowal books to read.

My rating: 3 of 5 stars
Having read Toni Morrison for the first time a little while ago with Song of Solomon, I was keen to read more of her work. This seemed like a good follow-up, in no small part because I dig old-school jazz, so a novel set in 1920s Harlem titled Jazz seemed right up my street. Imagine my surprise to find out there’s very little actual jazz in this book – turns out “jazz” is a literary metaphor to the book’s loose structure and the narrations of several principal characters.
Well, that’s the risk of reading an author regarded as such a literary giant that the publisher doesn’t even bother with book-jacket synopses, I guess.
Anyway, the story starts in 1926 with a dramatic and deceptively simple love triangle – Joe Trace shoots his 17-year-old mistress Dorcas, after which his wife Violet goes to her funeral to cut up her face in the casket – then jets back and forth in time to trace their respective family histories dating back to the 19th century Virginia, showing how they ended up in NYC and the events leading to the shooting. Morrison did something similar in Song Of Solomon, but this time I found it more of a distraction to what I considered to be the main story.
I guess you can say it’s like jazz in the sense that it starts off with a basic, pleasing melody then careens off into wild chaotic-sounding improv that suddenly coheres at the end and everything you just heard makes sense. Still, I think it works better with actual jazz than with prose. But Morrison is one of the new novelists that could make it work, and some of the scenes are quite moving, especially by the end.
View all my reviews
On the jazz,
This is dF