Review of “Outlander”

Outlander by Diana Gabaldon was written back in 1991, but like several other books I’ve reviewed, it enjoys new popularity due to the successful TV series of the same title. Outlander is the first of a series of lengthy novels by Gabaldon which combine historical fiction, romance, and time travel. I truly enjoyed large sections of this novel. Claire, the narrator and protagonist, is a memorable character: a woman who possesses both a nurse’s healing instincts and a warrior’s strength and courage. Her account of time travel to 18th century Scotland and subsequent fast-paced adventures in that picturesque setting are entertaining, even fascinating, reading. Authoress Diana Gabaldon is actually a Roman Catholic, and I loved her overall positive portrayal of Catholicism. However, as much as I found to appreciate in Outlander, I also found several troubling themes and much distasteful content.

A VERY BRIEF SUMMARY

To sum up a novel over 600 pages in a few sentences: Outlander is the story of Claire (Beauchamp) Randall, a World War II nurse, who accidentally travels back in time to 18th century Scotland. To escape imprisonment by her husband’s ancestor Captain Randall, she ends up forced into marriage with a charming young Scot named Jamie Fraser. They spend the remainder of the novel alternating between violent quarrels and steamy reconciliation scenes, all while trying to avoid capture by the sadistic villain Jack Randall.

POSITIVE PORTRAYAL OF CATHOLICISM

The best part of Outlander for a Catholic reader is the wonderful, positive portrayal of Catholicism and monastic life in the last few chapters. Earlier in the book, a parish priest is portrayed as uneducated, superstitious, and vindictive, but the later chapters dealing with many holy monks and priests  more than counterbalance the one caricature of a peasant priest. Towards the end of the book, a wounded Jamie and Claire seek refuge in this French monastery. Though a lifelong agnostic, Claire is impressed by the devout monks and befriends one priest, Fr. Anselm, who offers her some beautiful explanations of various Catholic practices such as perpetual adoration and Extreme Unction.

“The purpose of the sacrament is twofold,” Anselm went on, murmuring in my ear as the preparations went on. “First, it is intended as a sacrament of healing; we pray that the sufferer may be restored to health, if that be God’s will for him. The chrism, the consecrated oil, is used as a symbol of life and healing.” “And the second purpose?” I asked, already knowing. Anselm nodded. “If it is not God’s will that he should recover, then he is given absolution of sins, and we commend him to God, that his soul may depart in peace.”

On Anselm’s advice, Claire begins to attend perpetual adoration, eventually admitting that she is not alone and recognizing God’s presence. I began to be excited that Gabaldon was leading up to a conversion or miracle, but then was utterly baffled as a few pages later Claire turns to witchcraft to help heal Jamie.

WITCHES AND WITCHCRAFT

The witchcraft motif begins in the first few chapters of the book with a casual interlude of palm reading with the vicar’s cook. From there the observant reader finds an ongoing insinuation of two contradictory themes about witchcraft. A first theme is an attempt to normalize witchcraft as not particularly different than herb lore, divorce it from Satanism, and paint those who fear witchcraft as superstitious and uneducated. Claire notices the witches she meets are wise, reasonable women who by extension take a reasonable attitude towards the occult.

“Perhaps it was an attitude they shared, a pragmatism that regarded the occult as merely a collection of phenomena like the weather. Something to be approached with cautious respect, of course—much as one would take care in using a sharp kitchen knife—but certainly nothing to avoid or fear.”

Claire undergoes a witch trial when she is arrested along with a friend and accused of dabbling in the occult. Her friend, who is a self-proclaimed witch, ends up sacrificing herself so Claire can escape, emphasizing the motif that witches are basically good people. Up to that point, Claire has regarded witchcraft with leeriness, but eventually she turns to witchcraft herself, as mentioned above, to save Jamie in the last extremity. She decides to “summon a ghost” by using a reflection pool as her witch friend had taught her to assist in exorcising Jamie’s nightmares. Afterwards, she leaves her room “with a prayer for the soul of the witch Geillis Duncan.” This whole interlude of Claire using the occult is particularly troubling because of its placement in the plot. Jamie has been given Extreme Unction, the monks have commended him to God’s providence … and then Claire turns to witchcraft to save him. The second theme about the occult seems to be: God is a comforting idea, but witchcraft works better.

DOMESTIC ABUSE

Another aspect of Outlander that I found very troubling was that the great romantic relationship in the story between Jamie and Claire skirted dangerously close to a domestic abuse situation. Both hot tempered, they frequently engaged in shouting matches, hurling verbal abuse at each other. Jamie threatened Claire with physical abuse on several occasions. For example: “Try that again and I’ll slap you ’til your ears ring.” And on one occasion, he does follow through with a threat and beat her with his sword belt. Worse, he confesses to enjoying it:

“Enjoyed it! Sassenach,” he said, gasping, “you don’t know just how much I enjoyed it. You were so … God, you looked lovely. I was so angry, and you fought me so fierce. I hated to hurt you, but I wanted to do it at the same time … Jesus,” he said, breaking off and wiping his nose, “yes. Yes, I did enjoy it.

LANGUAGE & LYING

Taking the Lord’s name in vain is frequent throughout Outlander. Claire is the worst in this regards, blaming her foul mouth on having served in field hospital. Jamie is at first held up as a fundamentally good, moral character; it is disappointing as the book progresses and he curses regularly too. Lying is also commonplace. Jamie and Claire make a pact not to lie to each other, but otherwise Claire sees no problem with lying.  In fact, the book opens with her flippantly lying to her landlady.

PEDOPHILIA A LAUGHING MATTER?

There are at least two homosexual characters. One is the Duke of Sandringham, who has a reputation for preying on teenage boys. Now this is not represented as a positive, but it is presented as fairly amusing. The Duke is a jolly, intelligent man whom Claire says she rather likes. An interesting way to draw a sexual predator, isn’t it? Jamie tells humorous anecdotes about the Duke’s attempts to assault him as a teenager. I find making a joke out of pedophilia at best offensive and at worst an effort at normalization. I do not know the author’s intentions of course, but humor is a great way to normalize deviant behavior.

THE DEVIL’S IN THE DETAILS

The final and insurmountable difficulty with Outlander for a Catholic reader is that it is, simply put, too explicit. Unless you are willing to skip large sections of the text, you find yourself reading intimate details about Claire’s lovemaking with Frank and Jamie that no one needs or should want to know. Even worse, Gabaldon spends page after page describing Jack Randall’s sadistic homosexual tendencies in great detail. This was completely unnecessary to the plot and simply revolting to read. Skimming over a few paragraphs of such unnecessary explicit details about lovemaking and sadism is one thing, but the novel is simply rife with such passages.

CHANNELING AUSTEN

The curious combination of accurate Catholic knowledge mixed with witchcraft, domestic abuse, and explicit sex scenes is honestly more disturbing than a run of the mill romance novel.  Gabaldon has clearly been catechized, and yet writes a book that seems set on muddying the waters about witchcraft, romanticizing domestic abuse, and swimming with sex scenes. To quote some Jane Austen, “Better be without sense than misapply it as you do.” Outlander could have been a great book without the smut and witchery. But as it is in actuality, my advice is: this book is certainly not appropriate for teenagers, and adults should be forewarned that this is not a clean novel.

Review of “The Handmaid’s Tale”

The Handmaid’s Tale has been a runaway hit as a TV series (which I have not watched) so I was curious to review the book which was the inspiration behind it. Margaret Atwood’s novel is the story of Offred, a woman who is assigned the position of handmaid in a dystopian society formed in a twisted imitation of the social order in Genesis. Offred narrates a series of fragmented snippets of life in the Republic of Gilead. I believe the popularity of the novel is due to Offred’s independent spirit which refuses to completely believe in or accept the twisted world in which she lives. Although I too admired Offred’s resistance against a clearly convoluted way of life, I found the book overall to have several extremely troublesome aspects which Catholic readers might want to consider before perusing it.

SEXUAL CONTENT

The Handmaid’s Tale is in essence a story about forced prostitution and adultery. There is only the slightest element of choice in Offred’s situation as a consort to a married Commander. Her alternative was to die cleaning up toxic waste, and any protest about her position will result in immediate execution.

Sexual content includes various descriptions of Offred’s lust for nearly every man she meets from the guards to the chauffeur to her husband. She repeatedly justifies this lust as a natural result of sexual repression. She enjoys teasing the guards because they “have no outlets now except themselves, and that’s a sacrilege.” The novel implies that the lack of access to porn and prostitutes is actually a negative for society. Other content includes descriptions of adultery, sex with two women, fornication, and masturbation.

I think some of the popularity of The Handmaid’s Tale is a result of the “glamour of evil.” Most people are repelled and sickened by Offred’s situation, but there is a sort of fascination with the depravity of the situation that leads the reader on. If we stop and think for a moment, what good will come of reading this fictitious account of a sick world?

SMIRCHING TRADITIONAL VALUES

Most of my concern about The Handmaid’s Tale is aimed at its subtle attempts to besmirch. For example, there are several digs at traditional values such as when Offred describes her room:

“There’s a rug on the floor, oval, of braided rags. This is the kind of touch the like: folk art, archaic, made by women, in their spare time, from things that have no further use. A return to traditional values. Waste not want not. I am not being wasted. Why do I want?”

Do you see the association that is made cognitively? Traditional values equal dissatisfaction. Along the same lines, Offred is miserable when she loses her job when the Republic is first being set up. She feels unfulfilled and aimless staying at home, and resents relying on her husband to take care of her and earn the family’s income.

STABS AT CATHOLIC BELIEFS

Another area that The Handmaid’s Tale attempts to do a smear job on is a variety of Catholic terms and concepts. There are several pokes at nuns. Offred describes her dismal life as similar to a convent: “Time here is measured by bells, as once in nunneries. As in a nunnery too, there are few mirrors.” Later, she explains: “Some people call [dresses] habits, a good word for them. Habits are hard to break.”

Another stab is taken at saints, comparing the twisted Aunts who are in charge of the handmaids with them.

“Aunt Lydia did not actually say this, but it was implicit in everything she did say. It hovered over her head, like the golden mottoes over the saints, of the darker ages. Like them too, she was angular and without flesh.”

There are a couple uncomplimentary references to chalices, associating them with emptiness and the Handmaid position. Offred describes herself: “We are two-legged wombs, that’s all: sacred vessels, ambulatory chalices.” At another time, she says:

“The tulips along the border are redder than ever, opening, no longer wine cups but chalices; thrusting themselves up, to what end? They are, after all, empty. When they are old they turn themselves inside out, then explode slowly, the petals thrown out like shards.”

Then, of course, there is the very word “Handmaid” itself. One of our titles of Mary is, of course, “Handmaid of the Lord.” This book is certainly going to give the reader a bad taste about that title. Another Marian reference is the choice of “Blessed by the fruit” as the accepted greeting for this dreadful society.

Indulgences and rote prayers like the rosary also get attention. Soul Scrolls, nicknamed Holy Rollers, are machines that print and read endless renditions of certain prayers. People buy a certain number of renditions of a prayer as a “sign of piety and faithfulness to the regime.” Offred describes the noise of the soulless machines: “You can’t hear the voices from outside; only a murmur, a hum, like a devout crowd on its knees.”

BAD TASTE ABOUT THE BIBLE

Yes, I realize that the book admits to presenting a twisted version of the Bible. However. How many people are familiar enough with the Bible to tell what is distorted and what is spot on? And overall, how many negative cognitive associations does this book create?

To name a few instances of Biblical references being woven in. Servants are called “marthas.” Handmaids can be struck, because “there’s a Scriptural precedence.” All the shops are references to Bible verses. Lilies of the Field. Milk and Honey. All Flesh. Offred says: “You can get dried-up rolls and wizened doughnuts at Daily Bread.”

The “Aunts,” who are the indoctrinators and managers of the handmaids, use Bible verses liberally in their indoctrination.

“Hair must be long but covered. Aunt Lydia said: Saint Paul said it’s either that or a close shave.”

“If you have a lot of things, said Aunt Lydia, you get too attached to this material world and you forget about spiritual values. You must cultivate poverty of spirit. Blessed are the meek.”

“Aunt Lydia thought she was very good at feeling for other people. Try to pity them. Forgive them, for they know not what they do. Again the tremulous smile, of a beggar, the weak-eyed blinking, the gaze upwards, through the round steel-rimmed glasses, towards the back of the classroom, as if the green-painted plaster ceiling were opening and God on a cloud of Pink Pearl face powder were coming down through the wires and sprinkler plumbing.”

“For lunch it was the Beatitudes. Blessed be this, blessed be that. … Blessed be those that mourn, for they shall be comforted. Nobody said when.”

“From each, says the slogan, according to her ability; to each according to his needs. We recited that, three times, after dessert.”

But not all the Biblical references come from the evil Aunts. I love the Book of Job, so I particularly resented this entry of Offred’s which formed some subtle negative associations with it:

“It’s strange, now, to think about having a job. Job. It’s a funny word. It’s a job for a man. Do a jobbie, they’d say to children when they were being toilet trained. Or of dogs: he did a job on the carpet. You were supposed to hit them with rolled-up newspapers, my mother said. I can remember when there were newspapers, though I never had a dog, only cats. The Book of Job.”

Another memorable convolution of Offred’s was equating the Incarnation with falling in and out of love:

“The more difficult it was to love the particular man beside us, the more we believed in Love, abstract and total. We were waiting, always, for the incarnation. That word, made flesh. And sometimes it happened, for a time. That kind of love comes and goes and is hard to remember afterwards, like pain. You would look at the man one day and you would think, I loved you, and the tense would be past.”

I think The Handmaid’s Tale has an agenda here: to create a subconscious recoiling from Biblical references. To contaminate God’s word by association with such despicable characters.

HOMOSEXUAL AGENDA

A few broad statements here about The Handmaid’s Tale depiction of people of various genders. Men are drawn as power-hungry, overbearing, and hypocritical. Most women are weak followers or brainwashed zealots. So who is the reader supposed to admire in this novel? Moira.

Who is Moira? Moira is Offred’s best friend, a spirited, courageous woman who resists the regime. She becomes a veritable legend by successfully escaping the “Red Center” where the handmaids are processed. Offred describes her as “daring and spectacular.”

Moira is also a very outspoken lesbian. I am not saying there is anything inharmonious about a lesbian being courageous and spectacular. But I am saying that the single admirable character in The Handmaid’s Tale being a lesbian indicates an agenda to normalize and even create favorable views of homosexuals.

DEHUMANIZATION OF DISABLED CHILDREN

I believe another hidden agenda in The Handmaid’s Tale is to shore up the fiction that a disabled or genetically abnormal baby is not even a person. In The Handmaid’s Tale, sterility and infertility are rife, and many of the children born have birth defects. The term “unbaby” is used for children who are born disabled or disfigured. Offred speculates about a fellow pregnant handmaid:

“What will Ofwarren give birth to? A baby, as we all hope? Or something else, an unbaby, with a pinhead or a snout like a dog’s, or two bodies, or a hole in its heart or no arms, or webbed hands and feet? There’s no telling.”

She later implies that the “unbabies” are killed. Does having a hole in the heart, or no arms, or disfigured hands, make a baby not a person? Of course not!

There is an implication that nothing can be done about disposing of the “unbabies” before birth because abortion is illegal. And the assumption is definitely that this lack of access to abortion is a negative, since these “unbabies” are not persons.

TWISTED DESCRIPTION OF WHAT A CHRISTIAN WORLD WOULD BE LIKE

I have read other Catholic reviews which claim that The Handmaid’s Tale is pro-Catholic. Sure, there are a few token mentions of priests or nuns being persecuted too. But much more prevalent is a litany of atrocities committed with a facade of religious fervor. Abortionists murdered as war criminals. The old sent off to “colonies” to a slow death cleaning up toxic waste. The entire concept of the Handmaid system with its adultery and perverted sex.

What are the key words the reader will walk away association with religious people in authority positions? Intolerance. Hypocrisy. Totalitarianism.

The whole premise of the Republic of Gilead is deeply troubling. It feeds liberal frenzy that right-wing and fundamentalist Christians are unbalanced zealots who need to be placed on terrorist watch lists. Would any true Christian seize control of the American government by massacring millions? Can you imagine if this book had been set in, say, an enforced Islamic society? Would it still be popular?

CONCLUSION

The Handmaid’s Tale has received so much exposure lately due to the TV series. In our secular post-Christian society, unfortunately this may be the most exposure many people have to the Bible and Christian values. For a well-catechized Catholic, reading this book is an exercise in detecting subtle propaganda and devious. But for the average person, this novel will imbue a deep distaste for many Bible verses and Catholic symbols and figures. Add to this the homosexual agenda and dehumanization of the disabled, and my conclusion is that this novel is not worthwhile reading.

Review of the “Divergent” Series


By request, I conclude my series of reviews of popular teen dystopian series with my thoughts on Divergent. Veronica Roth’s Divergent series is one of the most popular in this genre, probably second only to Suzanne Collins’ “The Hunger Games”.  Like Hunger GamesDivergent features a strong female protagonist, Beatrice “Tris” Prior, who tells the story in the first person present. And like Hunger GamesDivergent raises questions about societal norms, fascism, and what a good person is to do when confronted with an unjust government. Like Hunger Games, there are certainly positive messages to take away from reading the series, but the question is: do the positives outweigh the violence and negative messages?

THE OVERALL STORYLINE

Divergent, the first book in the series, introduces the reader to a dystopian Chicago which is divided into five factions, each of whom is obsessively fixated on one virtue. Abnegation values self denial, Candor values honesty, Dauntless values bravery, Erudite values knowledge, and Amity values kindness. Usually a person has an aptitude for one faction, but a few special Divergents have aptitudes for multiple factions. At 16, a teenager has one choice to decide which faction to join, and Beatrice “Tris” Prior chooses Dauntless. Divergent follows Tris through the initiation process, then stars her and her boyfriend Tobias “Four” stopping an attempt by the Erudite to seize control of the city.

Book two, Insurgent, describes Tris’ attempts to figure out what is beyond the fence which encloses Chicago. With the help of a few unlikely allies, she reveals hidden Erudite footage about the origin and mission of the city: to produce a primarily divergent population which can help the outside world.

The final book, Allegiant, reveals Tris, Four, and others leaving Chicago and entering the outside world. There, they learn that Chicago is actually an experiment by the Bureau of Genetic Welfare to determine if living in factions can help return damaged DNA to its original “pure” form. The series concludes with Tris sacrificing her life to wipe the memory of the scientists at the Bureau so that the genetically damaged will be regarded as equal human beings thenceforth.

Overall, it’s an exciting, fast-paced series with a compelling, charismatic first-person narration style. Its popularity is easily understood. But beneath the swift-moving story line there are a host of issues which parents may find concerning.

VIOLENCE

Hunger Games took a lot of bad press for violence, but honestly I found Divergent much more consistently violent. Teenagers intentionally harm other teenagers, such as one occasion where a sixteen year old sticks a butter knife into a rival’s eyes. There is an inordinate amount of hazing in the first book, both instructor on student and student to student. There are massacres, and there are executions which involve shooting the wrongdoer in the head. There is a scene where a group of students attempt to sexually molest and then murder Tris.

Even more alarming to me is the amount of violence Tris herself commits willingly. At least in Hunger Games Katniss mostly committed violence under duress. Tris chooses Dauntless as her faction because she craves the danger and adrenaline rushes, but quickly decides that if it takes hurting others to excel, she’s willing to fight her way to the top. She scorns her classmate who refuses to beat others senseless to improve his rankings. In contrast, Tris herself  continues kicking a girl who has bullied her long after she’s beaten, and then says she doesn’t feel guilty at all. Tris also repeatedly has to shoot her family in the head to escape her fear landscape, a visual I had a hard time shaking.

SEX SCENES

Divergent is simply awful when it comes to setting an example of a chaste relationship to teens. The protagonists, Tris and Four, are forever ending up making out in bed together, sometimes scantily clothed. There are no explicit sex scenes, but a lot of talk about wanting to have sex, descriptions of taking off clothes, hands under clothes, and sleeping together. There is also a disturbing theme about using each other and kissing or sex to forget problems temporarily and avoid addressing relationship issues. Tris is forever saying things like, “I press my mouth to his, because I know that kissing him will distract me from everything.” Are these messages about what is appropriate between teenagers and using one another what we want to teach our teenagers?

TATTOOS

Having tattoos is apparently an integral part of the Dauntless identity, which is obviously lauded since Tris and Four choose it. Parents should realize that in Divergent, tattoos are normalized as a legitimate way of immortalizing a memory. Tris gets several to mark important events and persons in her life. There is also an interesting motif about enjoying the pain involved in getting a tattoo. For example, Four describes getting his first tattoo: “It was agonizing. I relished every second of it.”

DRUGS

The drugs in Divergent are a series of serums which achieve different results: memory erasing serums, peace serums, death serums, fear-inducing serums, and so on. The way these drugs are used is mostly by injection, and some characters use them in ways alarmingly similar to real life drug use. The Dauntless use a fear-inducing serum to cause a hallucination of one’s worst fears: a fear landscape. Four obsessively injects himself and goes through his fear landscape, and even injects Tris so she can “journey” with him. The Amity inject a peace inducing serum to send troublemakers into hippy happiness again. The Amity also bake this peace drug into their bread so that their entire community “feels peaceful” constantly. I find all this drug use normalization concerning in a novel aimed at teens.

HOMOSEXUALITY

Another normalizing attempt in the series is a couple of completely unnecessary plugs for homosexual relationships. One of Tris and Four’s friends, Lynn, confesses on her death bed to “really loving” her friend Marlene. Another minor character, a grown man named Amar, confesses to having had a crush on Four when he was a minor. However, he is described as being over that and now being in a relationship with another minor character, George. There are repeated descriptions of Amar and George hugging and sharing affection.

LIAR, LIAR…

Another extremely disquieting theme in Divergent is that lying is not a big deal. From the beginning, Tris declare she could never belong in Candor because she lies easily and often. She does not seem to see this as a negative at all. She describes herself at one point: “I don’t know when I became so good at acting, but I guess it’s not that different from lying which I have always had a talent for.” Tris also lies to Four repeatedly, even premeditated lies. For example, in an emotional scene in Insurgent Four begs her not to sacrifice her life by going to Erudite headquarters. She knows she is going to go anyway, but looks him in the eyes and promises not to go, then thinks: “This lie- this lie is the worst I have ever told. I will not be able to take it back.” Additionally, many of Tris and Four’s plans are contingent on lying convincingly. Tris can even resist the “truth serum” and gets herself out of trouble multiple times by lying while under its influence.

ENDS JUSTIFYING MEANS

The reason Tris and Four lie frequently is that they believe the ends justifies the means. Divergent gives lip service to the belief that ends do not justify means insofar as Tris states that it is wrong to sacrifice the lives of human beings for the purpose of genetic cleansing. But in practice, Tris and Four often lie and even kill to achieve their goals. Four explains at one point in Allegiant that for his father, his mother, and sometimes himself, “the end of a thing justifies the means of getting there.” For Tris, it doesn’t even have to be a noble means. She will lie to save herself embarrassment or inconvenience.

RELIGION

Unlike Hunger Games, where God and religion are absolutely ignored, Divergent flirts with the idea of God and religion having some meaning, at least for some people. Praying and talking about God and heaven is something only the Abnegation do in Divergent. I consider this relegation of God and prayer to being a belief specific to a particular Faction an extremely subtle way of dismissing religion.

Tris herself has little to say on the subject of religion. She is basically an agnostic, treating all things religious with ambivalence. She is generally uncertain about the existence of any afterlife. But when faced with imminent death in Insurgent, she states that she does not believe that anything she does or doesn’t do will make an impact on her eternal future, if there is one. “I don’t believe that what comes after depends on anything I do at all.”

PHILOSOPHY OF VIRTUE

At first, I was excited that Divergent was raising questions about what it means to have various virtues. But by the end of the series, I realized that the conclusions Roth leaves the reader with regarding specific virtues and how virtues relate to one another are quite problematic.

I believe one fundamental issue in Divergent is a lack of understanding of what a virtue actually is. In the Nicomachean Ethics Aristotle defines virtue as a disposition to act rightly, and as a mean between the two vices of excess and deficiency. This simple yet powerful definition is what Roth was clearly lacking when she wrote the Divergent series. She often describes an excess as the virtue. For example, the Abnegation are supposed to be selfless, which Roth describes at times as a complete unwillingness to ever accept help. Unwillingness to accept help is a form of pride, not a virtue. Similarly, she describes the Dauntless bravery in terms of recklessness or rashness, which are actually vices directly opposed to the virtue of courage. These muddied examples of virtue are concerning in a teen novel since many teens are not going to have the ethics background to recognize the false understanding of virtue shown in Divergent.

Another part of Aristotle’s definition of a virtue is that the virtues do not exist in isolation; they are facets of a virtuous person. Divergent definitely treats the virtues as separate goals to pursue, and even vacillates on the question of whether different virtues are actually opposed to each other. Four is more correct than Tris when it comes to this question, telling her in the first book that “I want to be brave, and selfless, and smart, and kind, and honest.” But Tris disagrees, saying: “It doesn’t work that way. One bad thing goes away, and another bad thing replaces it. I traded cowardice for cruelty.” She honestly believes that one person cannot have two virtues.

I hoped that by the end of the series, Tris and Four would espouse a more accurate understanding of virtue, but the last book, Allegiant, leaves the reader with the message, “Every faction loses something when it gains a virtue: the Dauntless, brave but cruel; the Erudite, intelligent but vain; the Amity, peaceful but passive; the Candor, honest but inconsiderate; the Abnegation, selfless but stifling.” I do not accuse Roth of intentionally confusing teenagers about the nature of virtue, but I think she lacks a coherent, correct understanding of virtue. Unfortunately, this translates into potentially dangerous misconceptions about virtue in impressionable readers.

THE CONCLUSION

Considering the sexual content, violence, lies, agendas, and shaky philosophy, I advise not having your teenagers read Divergent. In case you’re still unsure, let’s talk about the ending of the series.

Spoiler here, but Tris dies near the end of Allegiant, so the trilogy ends with a devastated Four receiving life advice from Tris’ best friend Christina. The important take away for teenagers here from the surviving main characters? “Sometimes life really sucks. But you know what I’m holding on for? … The moments that don’t suck. The trick is to notice them when they come around.”

Okay, I will admit there is nothing inherently wrong with this advice. But honestly, I found it sort of depressing. The best we can do is hold out for the moments in life that don’t suck? Really?

How about seeking the true, the good, and the beautiful? How about living with passion and purpose? How about seeking all the virtues and becoming the best version of yourself? How about striving to see each moment as a gift, each suffering as a kiss, each joy as a taste of heaven?

 

 

Review of “The Princess Bride”


Growing up, I watched The Princess Bride at least a dozen times and knew half the lines by heart. It really is a hilarious movie, so I was excited all these years later to read the book that inspired it: The Princess Bride: S. Morgenstern’s Classic Tale of True Love and High Adventure by William Goldman. Because the book is always better than the movie, right?

If you haven’t seen the movie, it is in essence a spoof on fairy tale adventures. Buttercup, the most beautiful woman in the world, is being forced to marry a wicked prince. But she is rescued by her her lover Wesley, a Sicilian bent on revenge, and a giant. There are swashbuckling sword fights, miraculous rescues, wicked villains who are satisfactorily punished, and a hilarious commentary from the narrator. The book also has these elements. In fact, the movie contains all the best parts of the book and leaves out the muck.

And there is so much muck in this book. Before you get to the adventure proper, you must wade through 32 pages of Goldman describing, first, making a pass at a bikini-clad Hollywood starlet (note that Goldman is married). Second, lying repeatedly to his wife. Third, complaining about how his wife doesn’t understand him. Fourth, describing how he knows all the above is wrong, but doing it anyway.

By the end of these 32 pages I was so angry I almost destroyed the library book. After cooling down, I continued to the story proper. The book version of The Princess Bride opens with an account of the most beautiful woman in the world, a maid who is having an adulterous affair with a duke. The duke’s shrewish wife ruins the maid’s beauty by plying her with chocolates. I’m not a psychologist, but by this point I was convinced that Goldman had a very dysfunctional marriage. I later found out that he and his wife, who was actually a psychologist, divorced after the book was published.

It’s rather sad, really, to realize how Goldman views marriage. There isn’t a happy relationship in the book. Buttercup’s parents are described as having an unhappy marriage: “All they ever dreamed of was leaving each other.” Buttercup and Wesley do not even have a particularly inspiring relationship. Buttercup is rude, slovenly, and quite dull-witted when Wesley falls in love with her. Basically, he loves her because she’s beautiful. And once he rescues her, they soon fall to bickering and belittling one another.

Now there is still some decent comedy in the story. As I said, the movie combines all the best parts of the book with a wise cutting out of the love-doesn’t-exist theme. But a little comedy does not make this book worthwhile reading, so do not waste your time or give it to your teenagers. While disappointing, I will give The Princess Bride credit for being life changing for me in one way. I am never again going to be able to say “the book is always better than the movie.”

Review of the “Anne of Green Gables” Series

Reading at least Anne of Green Gables, if not the entire Anne series, is basically a rite of passage for young girls in America and Canada. L. M. Montgomery’s classic series is so beautifully written and her vivid characters, particularly Anne herself, are so memorable, these books deserve to be read and re-read over the years. There is a certain sense of the transcendent and sacramental in the Anne books which is wonderful to imbue in a girl’s imagination. So the question for a Catholic parent is not “if” to give your daughter a copy of the Anne books but “when” is the most appropriate age. Too early and they may be cast away unappreciated. Too late and the first at least may be discarded as too childish. My aim in this review is to introduce you very briefly to each of the eight books about Anne and explain the most appropriate age for each to be read by your daughter.

In Anne of Green Gables, L. M. Montgomery’s most famous work, the reader is introduced to Anne with an E, the irrepressible red-headed orphan whose pluck and cheerfulness earn her the love of an entire village. This first book begins with Anne coming to Green Gables at age 11, and follows her up until about age 16. There are so many wonderful themes in this book about both self-improvement and self-acceptance, loyalty and forgiveness, hard work and true happiness. Add to this gentle humor and Montgomery’s beautiful prose, and you have one of my very favorite books. Of course every girl will be different, but I think around age 12 is the perfect age for first encountering Anne.

Anne of Avonlea recounts Anne’s adventures from ages 16-18. This book is a touching coming of age story as Anne sacrifices some of her own dreams to support her family at Green Gables. I really appreciated how Montgomery portrayed Anne as mostly disinterested in boys and dutifully accepting Marilla’s opinion that 16-18 is too young for courting. This second volume of the Anne series is also appropriate for 12 and olders.

In Anne of the Island, Anne heads off to Redmond College with several of her friends from Avonlea. I found this one to be among the most amusing of the series, humorously recounting Anne’s college escapades, early attempts at getting stories published, and horrifically memorable marriage proposals. I consider the story line about college life more appropriate for 14 and up, but there is no material that would be objectionable for a 12 year old to read.

Anne of Windy Poplars  is a collection of the letters Anne wrote to Gilbert during the three years of their engagement and separation while he attended medical school and she worked as a Principal at Summerside High School. This book is particularly delightful since Anne herself narrates her experiences far from Avonlea. With careful propriety, Montgomery “omits” those paragraphs where Anne’s pen is not too scratchy for her to write of her love for Gilbert, so these letters read as very PG, though I would personally save them for 14 and older again since I think they will be more appreciated at that age.

Starting with the fifth book, Anne’s House of Dreams, and continuing with Anne of Ingleside, the Anne books take a decided turn towards more adult conflicts and themes. While they are still tame compared to the sordidness spewed forth in many modern novels, these books simply present a realistic picture of adult life with believable concerns, cares and crosses. Anne and Gilbert suffer through the death of their first child. Anne helps a friend stay true to her difficult husband despite loving another man. The Blythes navigate their first disagreements. Anne even begins to doubt that Gilbert still loves her and worries about an old flame of his who is attempting to ensnare him. Stories along these lines were meant for a more mature audience, and I would definitely not recommend them before age 16.

In Rainbow Valley, Montgomery returns to her style in the very first Anne book, recounting the adventures of the six Blythe children and their young neighbors, the four Merediths. These stories are innocent and fun, all about helping the Merediths find the perfect stepmother and taking care of a young runaway girl named Mary Vance. Girls 12 and older will enjoy them.

Rilla of Ingleside is the final book in the Anne series. Rilla is Anne’s youngest daughter, a slightly spoiled but still sweet fifteen year old who comes of age during the different years of World War I. The book focuses on the effects of the War on the tiny village of St. Mary’s Mead, and the Blythe family particularly. Rilla’s story of a rather selfish young girl learning true courage and selflessness in a chaotic world is quite inspiring, and a great book for girls 14 and older.

One fun way to present the Anne books would be to give one book each year as a traditional birthday gift starting at about age 12. In this case, I would recommend giving the first four books in order, then skipping to give books 7 and 8, then ending with books 5 and 6 since they have the most mature themes. You could even continue the tradition by gifting further Montgomery books about the Blythes such as Chronicles of Avonlea and The Road to Yesterday. I hope your daughters come to love Anne and the village of Avonlea as much as I do.

Thoughts on “One Beautiful Dream”


I am not presumptuous enough, or perhaps not daring enough, to judge myself capable of writing a critique of Jennifer Fulwiler’s work, but I so enjoyed her latest book that I felt compelled to post a few commendatory remarks on One Beautiful Dream: The Rollicking Tale of Family Chaos, Personal Passions, and Saying Yes to Them Both.

I know Jennifer Fulwiler by repute but this was my first time reading a single word she had written because- prepare for a deep dark secret- I do not read blogs. That’s right, I am the hypocritical blogger who loves to write but doesn’t bother to read other people’s blogs. Okay, in my defense I’m sure I’d love to read other people’s blogs, but equally sure that I would sink so swiftly and surely into the bottomless quicksand of blog surfing that I would never read a real, full-length book again. And then what would I write about?

To return to Jennifer Fulwiler and One Beautiful Dream: from the first page, her story resonated with me. She describes herself as a cerebral introvert who often feels that her gifts are not the best adapted to being super mom. Yep, that’s me too. And she even had the same theory I posit to my husband regularly:

“Decades of living in big houses with few people had carved deep grooves into my habits; I had a great need for quiet and for complete control of my surroundings. Sometimes it felt like my current life was a macabre psychological experiment to see exactly where the mental breaking point was for someone with my temperament.”

See I knew I wasn’t the only one with the theory about God running some kind of psychological experiment giving me this type of kid! (Actually, I’ve decided He just has a really good sense of humor.) The further I read, the more I felt like I was reading my own story of difficult pregnancies, high need children, and deep down a longing to just be alone with silence, a stack of books, and a computer for typing. At least, both Jennifer and I would have described our dream as such in our early years of motherhood.

But as Jennifer describes so lucidly, and as I am slowly realizing also, this individualistic dream of what my perfect imaginary life will someday be, is not cut out of the fabric of happiness, or even reality. Jennifer calls life a symphony, and that analogy struck home in my classically grounded soul. A mother, a wife, a daughter, an aunt, a cousin, a friend.  A woman’s life and dreams are intertwined and harmonized with those of her loved ones.

Do not for an instant think that Jennifer is advocating a sacrificial immolation of all a mother’s dreams. On the contrary, she would be the first to tell you to nourish your “blue flame, the passion that ignites a fire within you when you do it.” She urges women to follow their dreams and utilize the gifts God has given them: to pursue the work that gives them energy and joy. On a personal note, I have come to the same conclusion. Writing fills me with energy and joy, which I can then channel into caring for my family with renewed vigor.

Jennifer is inspiring, but practical. At first I thought she was an advocate of the “have it all” mentality, but she tackled that topic with her usual forthrightness and pragmatism.

“I had set out on this quest to try to “have it all,” to use the terminology of the age-old debate about women and work. Now that I considered everything I’d learned along with what Joe was saying, I saw the entire concept differently. It occurred to me that you can have it all in the sense of having a rich family life and pursuing excellence in your work, but you’re going to need to re-imagine what having it all looks like. Your work will never be your number-one priority. You might need to walk away from glamorous opportunities that don’t allow you to live a love-first life. You’ll be bombarded with one interruption after another, yet you’ll find that those interruptions are the very building blocks of a good life.”

A good life. A love-first life. A life grounded in a wholeness of vision that melds family and personal goals. I think every woman really wants just this.

I have read a LOT of books by Catholic moms, for Catholic moms, and inevitably take away some nuggets of wisdom. But Jennifer’s story really spoke to me because she has had what some might call a difficult life: chronic money problems, difficult pregnancies, high need children, one setback after another in her personal goals. But if she hadn’t had all those experiences, how could she have given the world the wisdom in her books and blog? Each difficult moment shaped her into the woman who can inspire thousands of other Catholic mothers.

My own life has been a bit rocky for the last decade, and if Jennifer had an easier life or more natural inclination towards being a mom, her words would not have had this power to lodge deep in my soul and make me question my priorities and preconceived notions about what my life should look like or can look like.

Jennifer’s words have encouraged me to pursue writing more seriously again now, as opposed to waiting for the someday when my children are less demanding. I hope you read One Beautiful Dream too and it challenges and inspires you to recognize and nurture whatever gifts God has given you. And if you are that lucky mom whose gift is to be a home maker, pray for the rest of us!

Review of “A School for Unusual Girls”


A School for Unusual Girls: A Stranje House Novel by Kathleen Baldwin is a fast-paced alternative historical fiction novel that offers the reader a captivating blend of adventure, romance, and mystery. This first installment in the Stranje House novels is told by Miss Georgiana Fitzwilliam, a young lady of noble birth and many talents. Unfortunately for her, being a brilliant mathematician with a scientist’s curiosity is not an asset to a young lady in 1814. Exiled to Stranje House by her exasperated parents, Georgiana finds herself swept up in a world rife with mystery, romance, and most importantly opportunities for a girl with unusual abilities.

THE GOOD

In contrast to many teen novels I read (like my recent experience with “The Selection”), I actually enjoyed Kathleen Baldwin’s writing style and plot. She writes a swift-moving story without sacrificing descriptive language and character development. One of the parts I most appreciated was that while Georgiana was clearly the heroine of this book, the other girls at the school also receive character development and seem to be fascinating people too. This harmonizes with one of the major themes in A School for Unusual Girls: acceptance, both of your own gifts and those of others. Each of the girls at the school is highly gifted in their own unique way, but has been rejected by society for not fitting the accepted mold for young ladies. At first, Georgiana envies her schoolmates their beauty or talent in other areas, but in the end comes to peace with accepting the gifts she has been given and appreciating what her friends have without jealousy.

THE BAD

The main problem in A School for Unusual Girls is a typical one in secular teen novels: God and religion are left completely out of the world of Stranje House. Personally, I do not see this as a reason to utterly discount a well-written book, as long as your teenagers are noticing the void. In the area of sex, parents need to know that the “romance” in this novel borders on sensual at times, with some passionate kisses. There is also a point in the plot where one of the girls dresses seductively to distract some soldiers. For these latter reasons, I would suggest parents use their judgment in determining the appropriate age for their teens to read this. I would not this book recommend for a  girl younger than fourteen.

THE BOTTOM LINE
A School for Unusual Girls may not be great literature on par with Leave It to Psmith, but it a thoroughly enjoyable novel with some encouraging themes for teenage girls. I do not see boys enjoying this book at all, but it will resonate with teenage girls who may not quite fit in easily for some reason, whether that be introversion, unusual interests, high intelligence, or something else entirely. I hope this book will encourage girls to explore and develop their individual, God-given gifts.

Disclaimer: I have not read or reviewed the sequels in this series. A fan reports that other books by this author contain sexual content so I do not recommend anything else by this author.

Review of “The Selection”


After reviewing a parenting book, I wanted my next review to be on light literature, so I continued my project of reviewing popular dystopian novels such as “The Hunger Games” and “The Maze Runner”. Unfortunately, the next teen dystopia on my list was The Selection by Kiera Cass. I say unfortunately because this book is high on the list of “most unsatisfying” and “least worthwhile” books I have ever read, and I almost did not even bother reviewing it. However, given its popularity with teenage girls and status as  a New York Times Bestseller, I felt obligated to provide feedback.

THE PREMISE

The Selection is marketed as “dystopia meets the Bachelor.” I would describe this novel as a very light, vanilla form of dystopia, where hardship consists mostly in rigidly defined social castes and some food shortages among the lower classes. The heroine, America Singer, is, predictably from a lower caste and the long shot to win the Prince Maxon’s attention in a Bachelor-esque contest for the queenship and throne. Again predictably, she gains his attention immediately with her honesty and sad story of having a broken heart from being dumped by her ex-boyfriend back home, Aspen.

THE GOOD

Of course this book is not evil incarnate, and I will freely admit there were certain redeeming themes. For example, America is careful to only use make up and clothing to enhance her natural appearance. She also learns a good lesson about premature judgments when she has to rethink her rashly formed opinions about Prince Maxon. America is also a good role model when it comes to friendships, being open, amicable, and charitable to the other contestants. That is the best I can say for her.

AMERICA THE CHEATER

Since this is a teen romance novel, of course there is a love triangle, activated when ex-boyfriend Aspen decides he no longer wants to be an ex. I found it completely infuriating that America has little problem with dating Prince Maxon, knowing he loves her and admitting she might love him, while also renewing her relationship with Aspen. America admits she knows this is wrong, says she feels guilty, but continues to lead on both men anyway. I found this deceit from America particularly offensive because what initially catches Prince Maxon’s attention is her honesty. Take away her honesty, and she becomes a much less likable and admirable character, and a poor model for Catholic teens.

SELECTION QUESTION

The whole concept of The Selection actually bothers me. Should a man be dating 35 women at once? Perhaps you must define “dating” to answer that question. Calling taking each of 35 women out to dinner in turn “dating” is one thing, but when you add declarations of love and kisses into the mix, Prince Maxon’s behavior begins to verge more on cheating, at least to me. America struggles with feeling jealous of the parade of “other women,” but thinks she needs to squelch her feelings because it’s all part of the Selection. Yes, it’s strange circumstances, but I find the overall messages here about what dating should look like, especially dating multiple women, troubling.

OBJECTIONABLE MATERIAL

To give a small measure of praise, at least in this first book of the series Kiera Cass keeps her characters clothed. However, I did find the rather graphic descriptions of America making out with her ex-boyfriend needlessly erotic. One might also pause to wonder why these scenes between America and Aspen are dwelt on so heavily, since the overall impression from the book is that you should want America to end up with Prince Maxon. On this front alone, I would pause to question the authoress’ agenda before handing this book to a young teenager.

BIRTH CONTROL

Another interesting agenda I noticed in this novel is a theme promoting free access to birth control. The only law America seems to truly dislike is the one forbidding fornication. She is angry that she doesn’t have the right to choose when and with whom she has sex. She also resents that birth control is a luxury only available to higher castes. Again, this is the heroine of the story here, the one the reader is supposed to admire, advocating for birth control and free love. Troubling much?

CLIFFHANGER ENDING

The Selection ends abruptly on a cliffhanger without resolving any of the main conflicts. A loose end to be tied off in a future book is one thing, but this level of jerky ending is usually a sign that the author is more interested in garnering sales of additional books then writing a worthwhile book. All things considered, The Selection  is not a selection I would recommend.

Review of “No-Drama Discipline”

Recently, I felt like refreshing my parenting techniques and exploring some new ideas. Browsing through recommendations of parenting books in a gentle parenting group, the title No-Drama Discipline: The Whole-Brain Way to Calm the Chaos and Nurture Your Child’s Developing Mind intrigued me for a few reasons. First of all, it’s a mouthful. How did a publisher let that one slip by? Second of all, I personally am passionately adverse to drama in my relationships, so removing drama from my parenting sounded like a spectacular idea. Finally, I was interested in seeing how the authors, a psychotherapist and a psychiatrist, approached the subject of discipline.

SCIENTIFIC BASIS

The ideas on discipline in No-Drama Discipline are heavily influenced by emerging research on brain development. I personally found it fascinating to learn about the order in which the different parts of the brain develop, what brain integration means, and how neural connections are forged. The authors did a great job simplifying some weighty concepts so sleep-deprived parents like me can easily grasp them, using easy terminology like upstairs brain and downstairs brain. I appreciated their balance between keeping it simple, but explaining how each discipline strategy was focused on the ultimate goal of building your child’s brain.

CONTINUITY WITH THE SOCRATIC METHOD

Fans of the Socratic method of education will love this book, which advocates liberal use of questions and discussion. A huge part of “no drama discipline” is teaching your child to think, not just feel. One of the authors’ important concepts is “mindscape,” which is the ability to be not only the feeler and doer, but also be the observer. Put another way, mindscape is the ability to see one’s actions and feelings as if from the outside and analyze them. The authors say,

“When we teach our kids mindsight tools, we give them the gift of being able to regulate their emotions, rather than being ruled by them, so they don’t have to remain victims of their environment or emotions.”

One important way mindscape is taught is through a Socratic approach of initiating dialogues with your child to encourage empathy and insight.

IN HARMONY WITH THEOLOGY OF THE BODY

I was delighted to find that No-Drama Discipline presented a surprising cohesion with Theology of the Body’s respect for the human person. One of the fundamental tenets of No-Drama Discipline is that a parent must respect their child as a person, acknowledging and validating their feelings, thoughts, and experiences. No-Drama Discipline advocates collaborating with children to brainstorm discipline solutions together as a part of this respect for a person. It also empathizes the importance of developing your child’s neural network through relationships, noting that nourishing your relationship with your child is crucial in developing his full potential as a person.

DEVELOPING THE CHILD’S CONSCIENCE

Although the authors approach discipline from a secular and scientific perspective, they amazingly conclude that it is imperative for parents to help their child build a conscience! A big principle in this book is that instead of simply lecturing and demanding blind obedience, a parent should nurture the child’s innate feelings about right and wrong. They= authors explain that guilt is actually an important emotion to teach the child to recognize and respect as a sign that an action was wrong and not to be repeated. The authors say that

“Initial awareness of having crossed a line is extremely healthy, and it’s evidence of a child’s developing upstairs brain … It means she’s beginning to acquire a conscience, or an inner voice, along with an understanding of morality and self-control.”

OVERALL, REALISTIC

One other thing I really appreciated about No-Drama Discipline is that I found it be almost entirely realistic. The authors readily admit that there is no “magic wand” that will instantly end all bad behavior forever. They teach that integral parts of no-drama discipline are response flexibility, taking your parenting philosophy off autopilot, and being creative. They don’t claim that their strategies result in perfect child. But they do claim that their strategies produce more positive interactions overall and minimize damage when those really dreadful parenting nightmares happen. I think they are right, although I would love to see them do a follow up book on applying no-drama discipline to a large family situation where a parent is constantly torn between conflicting demands from a small army of children.

FINAL THOUGHTS

A college psychology professor said that a child’s relationship with their parents forms their view of, and relationship with, God. If a parent is authoritarian and dictatorial, that is how the child will view God. But if a parent is a loving and gentle, yet also consistent and challenging, teacher figure like Jesus in the New Testament, then this is the image of God they will see. I think this book helps teach parents to present that latter example to their child, so I highly recommend it to any Catholic parent.

 

Review of “The Prisoner of Zenda”

Anthony Hope penned the The Prisoner of Zenda nearly 125 years ago. Hope’s book was so popular it sparked an entire genre known as “Ruritarian Romance,” which are adventure novels set in fictional countries in Eastern Europe. The Prisoner of Zenda was received with eclat by Hope’s generation, who were delighted with the adventure and romance, political intrigue and sword fights, humor and tragedy. I confess to thoroughly enjoying this fast-paced, clever adventure myself, with a few reservations. This is a story for adults or older, mature teens.

THE STORY

Rudolf Rassendyll, both the hero and the narrator, is a dashing young Englishman who decides on a whim to journey to Ruritania for the coronation of the new king, also named Rudolf. Without giving away too much of the plot, a scandal is Rassendyll’s family’s past resulted in his bearing a close resemblance to the king or Ruritania, a fortunate coincidence when King Rudolf’s treacherous half brother makes a play for the throne. Rudolf Rassendyll acts decisively and honorably to save the King’s throne and life, but at the cost of a broken heart.

HONOR OR LOVE

This is simply an adventure story at heart, but what I found fascinating were the themes about honor and love, which were handled so differently a century and a half ago. Anthony Hope creates a story where Rudolf chooses honor over romantic love and passion. One overwhelming message about love in our culture is, “If it feels good, do it.” Heaven forbid in the twenty first century that anyone deny the impulses of passion. The Prisoner of Zenda offers a strikingly different approach to a conflict between honor and the dictates of our heart. Throughout the book, Rudolf wrestles with his love for the Princess Flavia, but mostly restrains himself from acting on it. Even when, in the final chapters, Rudolf falters in his determination to act honorably and leave the Princess to marry the King as she should for the good of her country, Flavia stands firm. She delivers a heroic refusal to compromise honor for love.

“Is love the only thing? … If love were the only thing, I would follow you—in rags, if need be—to the world’s end; for you hold my heart in the hollow of your hand! But is love the only thing? … I know people write and talk as if it were. Perhaps, for some, Fate lets it be. Ah, if I were one of them! But if love had been the only thing, you would have let the King die in his cell. … Honour binds a woman too, Rudolf. My honour lies in being true to my country and my House. I don’t know why God has let me love you; but I know that I must stay.”

A LITTLE PHILOSOPHY 

Rudolf struggles throughout The Prisoner of Zenda with his desire for the Princess and temptations to allow the King to die so he could seize the throne and princess for his own. I appreciated his distinctions between thinking and doing. He recognizes the crucial moral distinction between feeling a temptation and acting on it. In fact, his approach to confronting temptation is very close to St. Alphonsus di Liguori’s: do not focus unduly on temptation, but rather be grateful for grace to resist it. Rudolf explains:

“A man cannot be held to write down in cold blood the wild and black thoughts that storm his brain when an uncontrolled passion has battered a breach for them. Yet, unless he sets up as a saint, he need not hate himself for them He is better employed, as it humbly seems to me, in giving thanks that power to resist was vouchsafed to him, than in fretting over wicked impulses which come unsought and extort an unwilling hospitality from the weakness of our nature.”

What an awesome little explanation of human nature, grace, and temptation to find in an adventure story!

THE NEGATIVE

Although I appreciated the overall refreshing themes about honor and chivalry in The Prisoner of Zenda, this book is not without flaw morally speaking. There is a decent amount of violence, some of it committed by the hero himself. One of the most disturbing moments of violence is when Rudolf stabs a sleeping guard to death, an action that does not seem necessary in the context of the story. However, at least Rudolf later feels compunction about this decision to cold bloodedly kill the guard: “Of all the deeds of my life, I love the least to think of this.” The other motif I did not appreciate was a slight tendency towards misogyny in the hero. He comments at one point that “Women are careless, forgetful creatures.” However, to balance that comment, as I noted above, Princess Flavia is ultimately portrayed as the most honorable and principled person in the book.

IN CONCLUSION

If you or your older teens enjoy a good adventure, I find The Prisoner of Zenda to be an overall worthwhile read which provides a thought-provoking snapshot of a very different moral culture. I suggest it only for older teens and adults due to some moral dilemmas involving the proper use of violence, and some mentions of illegitimate situations and rape (in a negative light). I personally much prefer reading physical copies of books, but if you don’t mind Ebooks, this book is available for download free of charge on Project Gutenberg.