July Books of the Month

Another month has concluded, as time flows like a river, or perhaps it's a great wave.  Didn't read quite as much as I usually do, as a chunk of the month was spent with family in the States, but I did read four books, all of which possessed great merit. 

There is one thing I've switched up this month.  This year, in previous months, I've limited each review to one sentence thinking it might encourage more people to read my condensed versions, but I was totally wrong.  My reviews get sparse readership regardless of their brevity, so I've decided to return to writing longer reviews that are a little bit more informative anyway.  My central takeaway is that the books I read aren't particularly interesting to the vast majority of people--that's what defines readership numbers, not whether the reviews are extremely concise.

To those who have made it here to this sentence, I thank you, and here are my reviews of each book and the rating scale I use.

*****        An extraordinary book: one of my Top 15 all-time favorites

****          An outstanding book: highly recommended

***            A good book: worth the read

**              An OK read, but you'd be better off finding something else

*                Not worth the read; avoid at all costs

Agnostic: A Spirited Manifesto, by Lesley Hazleton (*****)

If this author's name looks familiar, it's because I've reviewed two of the outstanding books she's written on Islam (After the Prophet and The First Muslim).  Lesley Hazleton has also written several books on Christianity and Judaism. It is rather interesting that this person who's noted for writing amazing books on religious topics is actually an agnostic.  (Perhaps because Hazleton is agnostic, she is able to write fairly and with an open-mind about so many different religions.) This extraordinary book explains what being an agnostic really means and how it's actually a credible path to finding meaning in life.  

Agnostics are not atheists who declare God doesn't exist; Agnostics simply aren't sure of the certainty of any religious creed or truth. Yet, as Hazleton points out, agnostics are not wishy-washy people with no views or opinions. In her case, Hazleton discusses how her personal journey away from Judaism and her reluctance to choose one faith has kept her mind open and tolerant and has allowed her to appreciate and respect all religions and develop her own non-traditional, but meaningful, faith life.  Because she isn't tied to any dogma, she can see the beauty that is present in a diversity of faith traditions. Furthermore, she argues that agnosticism is the most vibrant and honest attitude toward the wonder of existence because it isn't forced to take on the baggage that many religions carry.

For me, this book is incredibly profound and really expresses my religious viewpoint pretty much exactly.  As the back of the book says, "Agnostic delightfully recasts the question of belief not as a problem to be solved, but as an invitation to an ongoing, open-ended adventure of the mind."  

I strongly recommend this book even for those people who are certain in their own faith traditions. I think it addresses issues of belief in a brilliant way and would serve as food for thought for anyone who isn't imprisoned by unyielding dogma.  Overall, it's one of the most illuminating books I've ever read. 

The Complete Maus (Volumes I and II), by Art Spiegelman (****)

For those few rare souls who read these reviews, you may recognize this title.  In a previous review months ago, I discussed Volume I which I had acquired electronically.  When I was in the States this summer, I found a copy that had both Volumes I and II in it, so I finally had the opportunity to read the second part, which describes Spiegleman's father's hellish experience in Auschwitz and how he finally was liberated.  (Part I covered the Spiegleman family's years of trying to evade capture by the Nazis.)

Below is a picture of one of the pages in Maus to give you a sense of what it looks like.

As you would guess, it's a powerful story--the horrors Spiegelman's family endured are almost unimaginable.  This graphic novel also looks at how surviving the horrors of Nazi concentration camps had a terrible impact on the family for many years--even affecting the author who was born long after the war had ended and his mother who eventually committed suicide unable to escape the guilt and despair her experiences had fostered.  And this book, written decades ago, is one of the first serious efforts at this genre (graphic novels)--it was such a remarkable achievement it won the Pulitzer Prize.  It's truly extraordinary and the use of comics as the medium, somehow captures the story very intensely.  

One sad additional note...many MAGA Trumpists are also anti-Semites and Holocaust deniers and they are leading the fight in certain U.S. locales to ban this book.  It's a frightening reminder of how history seems to always threaten to repeat itself.  Regardless, this book is a powerful reminder of the Holocaust and will stay with you long after you read it.

The Essence of Rumi, by John Baldock (*** 1/2)

The author goes to great length to place Rumi into the historical context, give an overview of his life, explain how he's a product of Islam, describe how the Sufi Path influenced his writing, and to  explicate the themes and symbolism of Rumi's work.  

In my estimation, the purpose of this book is to emphasize the theological and Islamic nature of Rumi's work and to steer the recent Western enthusiasts of Rumi's poetry away from any of the excessively romanticized or superficial "greeting card" interpretations of his work that seem to have popped up. 

I learned a great deal about Rumi and his religious and historical context (particularly the role of Sufis) and I think this work has helped me to read Rumi's poetry with a somewhat more-informed eye.

Sputnik Sweetheart, by Haruki Murakami (***)

It wouldn't be a month of reading for me, without a work of modern/contemporary Japanese literature on the list.  Previously I have read two collections of Murakami's short stories and found them outstanding, so I took on one of his novels.

This particular novel examines a love triangle between two women and one man, much too complicated for me to explain here.  What happens is that one of the women disappears while vacationing on a Greek island with the other woman, and the man travels from Japan to Greece to try to figure out what happened.   

If you're familiar with Murakami, you won't be surprised to find out that the reader never does learn what happens to the woman and that the whole situation becomes very surreal, as surrealism is a hallmark of most of Murakami's work.  The reader is left at the end to ponder a few different potential scenarios, including the possibility that the man and the disappeared woman have met each other in some unexplained afterworld/strange realm of existence.  Or not.  

If you really insist on hardcore realism, this book probably isn't for you.  But if you are enthralled by a meditation on alienation, the nature of love, and the loneliness present in modern society, then you'll enjoy this deeply-felt work.  I generally liked the book, because I can usually cope with books that feature surrealism and people with depressing, screwed-up lives, but I understand if that might not be your cup of tea.

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So, as I always say at the end, as redundancy seems to be a prominent feature of my personality, even if these four books aren't for you...READ SOMETHING that challenges you and stretches your mind.  Minds that don't get stretched tend to do terrible things: like they try to ban Maus and other books that they're afraid might do too much stretching of other people's mind.  Or they vote for Trump or inject themselves with horse de-wormer.  So please read at least one book this month, if you are able, so you don't have to endure that sort of fate.