Dear Mr. Knightley is certainly not a classic, but at the same time it isn’t simply fluff literature. The majority of the book is a series of letters written by Samantha Moore, journalism grad student, to the mysterious benefactor who is paying for her education. The multitude of references to Jane Austen books, the Bronte sisters, Dickens, Alexandre Dumas, Daddy Long Legs, and other classics are enjoyable for book lovers. But this is certainly not a period-era book; in fact, there is quite an intentional dichotomy between the civilized classical world Samantha, commonly known as Sam, wishes she belonged to and the raw, rough life she has actually lived.
Sam has unquestionably had a tough life.
Her earliest memories are of abuse from her parents. In and out of the foster-care system for years, never connecting with a foster family, she ends up on the streets at the age of 15. After months on the street, she ends up in a Christian group home, where she finds a precarious sense of safety. Yet after years of danger and tumult, she finds herself unable to connect with those around her, instead
The question becomes, how can Sam heal from her traumatic life?
There are two answers offered in the novel: first, that Sam needs to “find herself,” and second, that she needs to learn to trust God. I was pleasantly surprised by the second theme, which is subtle and not fully developed, but undeniably present.
With the first theme about healing by “finding yourself,” I was concerned initially about Gnostic influences, but ended up deciding that the author’s intent was simply to show that Samantha needed to stop hiding behind her impersonations of literary characters. Samantha had perfected the art of copying the speech and mannerisms of whichever character she thinks appropriate for the situation: an amicable Jane Bennet, a ruthless Edmond Dante, a spirited Lizzie Bennet. Of course, this is a dangerous habit since it distances others and keeps them from meeting Sam herself. Sam learns that in order to make real friends, she has to let go of pretending to be her literary companions. The theme here is about stopping hiding your past, personality, or vulnerability, but rather embracing the unique experiences that molded you.
The second theme about healing as learning to trust in God is not as fully drawn out, but the Christian influences in Sam’s life are undeniable. Most of the people who help her are Christians: the priest at the group home, the professor and his wife who “adopt” her, the mysterious benefactor. Sam notices these people have a peace and certainty that she admits to wanting for herself. She finds when she chooses forgiveness, she finds peace and joy. There is no radical conversion in Dear Mr. Knightley, but the reader can certainly assume that with the continued influence of her good friends, Sam eventually will find her way home to Christ.
Who would enjoy Dear Mr. Knightley?
Refreshingly clean, this book is perfect for older teens and adults. I would not recommend it for younger teens due to some descriptions of domestic abuse and a plot line about Sam’s first boyfriend, Josh, pressuring her to “sleep over” with him. Although Sam refuses and eventually breaks up with him over his unfaithfulness, her reasons for refusing are rather nebulous. The teenage reader would already need to be able to make the correct moral judgments about the situation since Sam does not have the benefit of a strong moral compass.
This book is perfect for a light, quick read on vacation, when the kids are falling asleep, or at the end of a long day. The literary allusions are delightful, the romance between Sam and Alex is sweet, and there are some worthwhile themes about friendship, trust, and healing.
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The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah is a truly compelling historical fiction novel: inspiring, humbling, thought-provoking, and devastating in turn. The story follows two French sisters, Vianne and Isabelle, from the time the first rumbles of World War II begin to affect France to immediately after the end of the war. By focusing on these two sisters’ very different but equally difficult paths through the war, The Nightingale succeeds in powerfully conveying the reality of the horror, the magnitude of the losses, the utter wrecking of lives in World War II. This book does not spare the reader from the awful depths that man can sink to. Yet the depravities man conducts are but a foil to the heights of heroism to which everyday people can rise. The Nightingale offers inspiration and hope with its themes about unbreakable love, heroic sacrifice, and the miracle of children.
The Nightingale is an affirmation of the power of all the forms of love to survive and thrive in the worst conditions imaginable.
The bonds of friendship are a potent force. In her small French hometown, Vianne and her best friend Rachel encourage and help one another to keep supporting their families, whether that is with words or by sharing the last morsels of food. When Jewish Rachel is taken away to a concentration camp, Vianne risks her own life to save Rachel’s son.
The love between sisters also survives the horror of war. Vianne and Isabelle had a tumultuous relationship growing up, but during the war each strives to protect the other as best they can. Vianne attacks a German soldier to save Isabelle. Isabelle distances herself from her sister’s family to protect them from the repercussions of her underground work. At the end of the war, Vianne searches tirelessly for her lost sister and brings her home.
The Nightingale depicts the love between parents and children as particularly beautiful and powerful. Vianne and Isabelle’s father Julien eventually gives his life to save Isabelle’s. Vianne repeatedly reflects that the only reason she continues struggling to survive is out of love for her children. Vianne’s husband Antoine writes to her from POW camp that she must remain strong for their children.
Love between man and woman also gets its due, mostly through Vianne’s clinging to Antoine’s memory through the years of war, and determination to rebuild their relationship afterwards. Isabelle’s relationship with Gaetan also illustrates the power of love to endure torture, sickness, and imprisonment.
The Nightingale is a paean to sacrifice, a tribute to the countless simple folk who made unimaginable sacrifices to help save lives during World War II.
At first, parents sacrifice for their children, townsfolk for their neighbors. But soon, the war make each person question what they truly believe about the sanctity of human life and how much they will risk to preserve it. First, Vianne saves and hides her Jewish friend’s son Ariel. Later, she helps save the lives of 18 other Jewish children, hiding them in an orphanage and forging identity papers for them. Her actions are all a heroic sacrifice, since they seriously endanger her life and her children’s lives. When asked how she could risk so much, Vianne tellingly says she does it for her daughter Sophie: what would she be teaching her daughter if she did not help save lives?
Her sister takes an even more risky path to help save lives. Isabelle envisions a way to help the English and American airmen escape from occupied France into neutral Spain. Although she realizes that she will almost certainly be captured eventually, tortured, and killed, she begins the “Nightingale Route.” She leads over 27 groups of airmen across the Pyrenees Mountains to safety before her capture.
One of the most beautiful sacrifices in the novel is after Isabelle is captured, when her father chooses to enter SS headquarters and confess to begin the ringleader of the “Nightingale Route” so that her life will be spared.
The Nightingale offers a strongly pro-life message about the blessing of children.
Returned POW Antoine says it most plainly: “This child… is a miracle.” All the main characters believe and live this truth throughout the novel: children are a miracle. They are the reason to keep going during the darkest years of the war. They are the cause for hope in a shattered world at the end of the war. Their existence is the healing as rebuilding begins.
The Nightingale is surprisingly clean with few exceptions.
As with any novel that attempts to accurately capture the atmosphere of occupied France, The Nightingale has its share of brutal violence. Vianne sees pregnant women shot, and experiences beatings and rapes herself. Isabelle is tortured and endures concentration camp life. The focus is not on the violence, though, but on the will to endure and survive the sisters exhibit.
There is little to no language. The only instances are the rare curse in French or German.
As far as sexual content, there is only one rape scene described, and it is short and easily skimmed over by sensitive readers. There are references to a husband and wife making love, but no descriptions. The most problematic content from a Catholic perspective is that Isabelle and Gaetan do sleep together despite being unmarried. Again, there is nothing graphic described, but parents should be aware if considering letting their teens read this book. I personally think it is too intense for any but very mature older teens.
The Nightingale is a sobering yet gripping novel which I highly recommend for Catholic adults.
This book leaves you reeling, yet inspired. It’s an important book because World War II needs to be remembered. The unspeakable evils committed and the heroic virtue shown both need to be kept in memory. Laugh, cry, enjoy this fantastic novel.
The Awakening of Miss Prim is one of those rare, delectable books that you find yourself savoring, trying to spin out each chapter to the utmost. This novel by Natalia Sanmartin Fenollera was first published in Spain in 2011 and translated to English a few years later. The English translation is professionally done, and I could almost believe the novel was set in England, except for the Spanish character names. Spain or England, The Awakening of Miss Prim has a cozy, old world charm about it that makes it the perfect book to curl with of an evening, beverage of choice in hand.
What is beauty?
What is marriage? What is peace? What is the purpose of education? What is friendship? What is truth? What is love? What is beauty? These are the questions pondered in The Awakening of Miss Prim. Miss Prim, a young woman with a string of impressive scholarly qualifications, comes to the tiny village of San Ireneo in search of “refuge.” Refuge from what? She can’t quite say.
San Ireneo is a village some might call backwards in its way of life. It ascribes to a distributism of Chesterton, the courtesy of old England, and the educational principles of the Greeks. People from around the world with a shared vision of creating a utopia, a The Benedict Option: A Strategy for Christians in a Post-Christian Nation, have created a unique society and culture in San Ireneo. Miss Prim is at once charmed, bewildered, and offended by San Ireneo and its people, but soon finds herself forming unexpected friendships.
In The Awakening of Miss Prim, friendship is the key to changing hearts.
Naturally a deep thinker who prides herself on her acumen, Miss Prim feels consternation when both her employer and new friends habitually challenge her every presupposition about life, religion, and literature. For example, at first she is mortally offended when her friends in the San Ireneo feminist society speak of finding her a husband. Over time, through her friendships with some of the members, Miss Prim realizes their intentions were loving, and even becomes open to listening to their views on how marriage is liberating.
The most important relationship Miss Prim forms is her unlikely friendship with her employer, enigmatically referred to as the Man in the Wing Chair. A dead language expert with a formidable intellect, he seems to delight in poking holes in Miss Prim’s pet theories about education, religion, and literature. Yet even as he exasperates her, his courtesy and genuineness lead her to contemplate his arguments with an open mind.
Rather than providing all the answers to the “what” questions, this novel offers food for thought.
Is the redemption a fairy tale? Or is it The Only Real Fairy Tale? Is marriage a harmony? A drawing together of opposites? Or both? Is beauty a painting, a field of flowers, a feeling? Does absolute truth exist?
The Awakening of Miss Prim provides trails of breadcrumbs leading the reader to what truth, goodness, and beauty is. Or rather, as the wise old monk advises, “Don’t be surprised if, in the end, you find beauty to be not Something but Someone.”
Perhaps in keeping with the theme of raising questions that aren’t quite answered, the book ends quite abruptly, leaving the reader to imagine the ending. This precipitous farewell to Miss Prim and San Ireneo is, in my opinion, the only real flaw in this imminently enjoyable novel.
This book is refreshingly clean of all objectionable content, and can be safely read by teens, though I think adults will appreciate it more thoroughly. On the other hand, the abundance of references to master writers like Dostoevsky, Chesterton, Virgil, and more may inspire teens to read some of these other great works.
James Alfred Wight, better known by his pen name James Herriot, wrote a wonderful series of books for adults, in addition to several collections for children. Drawing on his years of experience as a veterinarian in Yorkshire, Herriot wrote his memoirs beginning with All Creatures Great and Small. These memoirs take the form of a series of loosely connected stories, mostly anecdotes about the animals and owners he encountered. Sometimes humorous, sometimes poignant, Herriot’s uncanny gift for storytelling makes these books classics I love to recommend to animal lovers young and old.
“All things Bright and Beautiful, All Creatures Great and Small”
The poem The Creation by Cecil Frances Alexander inspired the titles of Herriot’s books. This poem really captures the spirit with which Herriot approached creation, always marveling at its wonders and seeing the hand of the Creator. In a spirit very similar to St. Francis of Assisi, Herriot cares for each animal, great and small, he encounters. He embodies a great example of stewardship of creation, often helping animals whose owners have no way to pay for his services. His great love for nature surpasses the boundaries of Kingdom Animalia. He also loves natural beauty, often describing the breathtaking vistas of the Yorkshire dales with the affection of a lover.
Community and good old-fashioned virtues praised.
Herriot writes of a different generation and lifestyle. He describes a now old fashioned way of life based on hard work and simple pleasures. Both Herriot himself and the farmers he encounters endure back-breaking work, whether birthing cows or forking hay. They enjoy good food, family time, and the occasional treat of an outing to a concert. The lack of technology and slow pace of life is a shock, perhaps a necessary one, to the twenty-first century reader. Was Herriot’s generation more peaceful in their hard labor? Happier in their simple pleasures?
Community is of great importance to Herriot. Neighborliness is an important quality in an isolated, low-tech community- even if the nearest neighbor is a mile away! The farmers are almost always hospitable and kind, taking care of the vet with a cup of tea and a seat by the fire after a call. In return, Herriot and his partner Siegfried often extend credit to cash-strapped customers.
Any questionable content?
Herriot’s memoirs are somewhat autobiographical. He recounts his charming, clean story of falling in love with Helen, his future wife. This is no more graphic than the description of a few kisses. On the other hand, the young veterinary student, Tristan, is a wild college student who is described as having several lady friends. Nothing graphic again, but the insinuation is that he knows them rather too well.
Tristan is also described as being frequently drunk. Herriot’s partner in the firm, Siegfried Farnon, is also occasionally described as drunk, and even rarely Herriot himself. Usually the consequences of drunkenness are portrayed as unpleasant: embarrassment at the least, or even a lost client. But occasionally Herriot does recount a drunken episode with a humorous twist.
The only other caveat I have about these books is the occasional foul language. The farmers are earthy men who swear when angry. Their language ranges from taking the Lord’s name in vain to the occasional f-word. The language is infrequent enough that is easy to take a permanent marker and cross out any words you don’t want your teens reading.
Who will enjoy the James Herriot books?
Anyone who appreciates a masterfully told anecdote with a lilting rhythm punctuated by impeccably timed punch lines. Anyone who loves animals and nature. Anyone who likes autobiographies, comedy, or a sweet love story. Really, I find it hard to imagine anyone not enjoying these books. I wholeheartedly recommend them for teens and adults who are looking for a light-hearted series.
Suffering. We all experience little sufferings on a daily basis. And sometimes, we experience great sufferings: when a loved one is diagnosed with cancer, when a baby is lost, when a marriage crumbles, when a hurricane destroys one’s home, when a child falls away from the faith.
In moments of intense pain, we find ourselves confronted with the age old question: how can a loving God allow His children to suffer such pain? We ask, “Why, God? Why me? Why my child?” Or we meet friends who have fallen away from the Catholic faith because, “God let bad things happen to me.”
Fortunately, as Catholics, we have thousands of years of the human race’s most brilliant minds to look to for answers. Here are some of the books which have helped me come to terms with “The Problem of Pain,” as C. S. Lewis calls it.
To begin with a little philosophy, The Consolation of Philosophy by Boethius is a particularly powerful tool in dialoguing with agnostics and atheists. Boethius relies solely on natural reason and Hellenic philosophy as he explains why bad things happen to good people.
Historically juxtaposed to Boethius is the Book of Job, the Hebrew look at the problem of evil and suffering. Although much of the Old Testament seems to imply that God inflicts suffering as a punishment for sins committed by individuals, the story of Job offers a completely different perspective. Job is the innocent, good man who still loses everything he loves and undergoes intense suffering. Look it up in your Bible if you’ve never read it. Also, if you enjoy fiction, G. K. Chesterton’s The Man Who Was Thursday explores many of the same themes found in Job.
In a personal favorite of mine, The Problem of Pain, C. S. Lewis contemplates suffering and human pain with his usual lucidity and conciseness. I find his way for harmonizing a good God and the problem of suffering particularly helpful. He also has a fascinating chapter towards the end of the book in which he speculates about animals and heaven.
Another favorite author of mine, Peter Kreeft, takes on suffering in his book Making Sense Out of Suffering. Kreeft’s book is an apologia for the Catholic understanding of suffering as meaningful.
Sheldon Vanauken lost the love of his life to a terminal illness after a far too short marrigae. A Severe Mercy is both heartbreakingly tragic and breathtakingly beautiful. This is a powerful true story of how the death of a loved one can lead to a greater good.
Another powerful personal testimony, in Man’s Search for Meaning Jewish psychiatrist Victor Frankl describes his soul-crushing experience of spending three years in concentration camps during World War II. During his imprisonment, Frankl had to watch his pregnant wife and family all die from hardship and starvation. Yet Frankl’s book is full of hope and a message about finding meaning in suffering.
I recently had the delectation of inhaling Five for Sorrow, Ten for Joy by Rumer Godden. I really could not put this book down after the first chapter. Although Godden’s style is discursive, almost rambling, this book gripped me from the start. Five for Sorrow, Ten for Joy switches back and forth between a peaceful, pastoral description of convent life and the dramatic, vicious ambiance of a Paris brothel. I hazard a guess that Godden intentionally chose these incongruous settings, for Five for Sorrow, Ten for Joy is in essence a book of contrasts: the depths of evil versus the height of heroic virtue, the healing power of love versus the destructive force of hate, freedom versus bondage.
This is the story of Lise, known by many names: Elizabeth Fanshawe, a middle-class English orphan; Lise Ambard, the prostitute; La Balafree, the youngest brothel manager in Paris; and Soeur Marie Lise du Rosaire. This is Lise’s story of conversion and redemption, but also the story of the many people whose lives she touches in her journey, their lives intertwined to form a chain, not unlike a rosary. Lise, a recipient of God’s mercy, becomes an instrument of God’s mercy to so many others.
There are so many wonderful themes woven into Five for Sorrow, Ten for Joy . Forgiveness, for one. Lise is a modern Magdalen figure, one who sinned so greatly yet grasped at the promise of God’s mercy with childlike trust. As I read, a line from the Our Father echoed over and over in my memory: “Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.” Lise, although a sinner, has been sinned against even more grievously. Yet she is a perfect exemplification of the Our Father forgiveness, not only pardoning but loving those who have most deeply wronged her.
Another theme is freedom. Modern wisdom might maintain Lise was most free as a young girl in Paris, choosing to flaunt tradition and move in with her lover. Yet following her own desires brings her no lasting happiness or satisfaction. Then she begins to find true freedom in a prison, where she meets the Sisters of Bethaine and hears a call to true freedom. And in the convent, where her life is regulated and regimented, and she voluntarily gives her life to God, she finds the greatest freedom: contemplation of God.
Rumer Godden tastefully handled the adult content which is an unavoidable part of the plot of this story, but Five for Sorrow, Ten for Joy is still not for the naive or easily scandalized. If you are considering letting your teenager read this, be aware that there are descriptions of brothel life, implied fornication and adultery, characters who are prostitutes or former prostitutes, incest, child molestation, and more. This book reveals the darkness and evil in mankind, which makes the light of God’s mercy shine brighter. Lise’s redemption would not be as convicting if she had not been so great a sinner. This is a truly inspiring book well worth taking the time to procure and peruse.
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!
I picked up My Family and Other Animals by Gerald Durrell on a whim, hoping for a mildly interesting Ebook to pass the time while waiting for my youngest to fall asleep one evening. By the end of the first page, I was intrigued. By the end of the first chapter, I was captivated. By the end of the book, my ribs were sore from laughing and I had stayed up too late finishing it. My Family and Other Animals is quite difficult to classify, being one part travel, one part autobiography, one part natural history, and one part comedy, with a thread of descriptive language running throughout that sometimes raises it nearly to poetry. All in all, a real delight of a novel to read for any adult or older teenager.
Unconventional Childhood My Family and Other Animals begins with the Durrell family deciding on a whim to escape a miserable British summer and take a vacation to the Greek island of Corfu. The Durrells enjoy Corfu so much they end up spending five years on the island, which suits young Gerry perfectly. His book is a memoir of a childhood full of sunlight and wonder, memorable animals, colorful Greek natives, and, of course, his ever-entertaining family. There is his oldest brother Larry, who “was designed by Providence to go through life like a small, blond firework, exploding ideas in other people’s minds, and then curling up with catlike unctuousness and refusing to take any blame for the consequences.” Next comes Leslie, whose sole interests in life were shooting and firearms. Gerry’s older sister is Margo, who fights acne and flirts with peasants. Last but not least, there is Mother, who herds her eccentric children around the globe lovingly, encouraging and placating in a most satisfactorily motherly way.
A Unique Education
Durrell offers an interesting critique of traditional education, though subtly rather than overtly. He describes how he was enthralled with anything related to the natural sciences, but otherwise uninterested in traditional education. If he had been confined to a traditional school setting in England, he very well may never have become the great naturalist he grew up to be. His mother’s decision to move the family to Corfu during some of his most formative years provided an atypical educational experience that allowed young Gerry to develop his passion for flora and fauna into a career as a naturalist. In his book, Durrell explains how all attempts at teaching him French or geography or arithmetic were quite useless until a creative tutor found ways to relate them to biology and zoology. He learned best by exploring the island, gathering specimens, and reading about them in his considerable collection of nature books. His mother wisely allowed him to spend most of his time exploring his passion for all things animal, and Gerry thrived on Corfu in a way that would not have been possible in a typical school. In many ways, I found My Family and Other Animals a strong case for homeschooling.
Durrell the grown up uses the most delightful diction in describing his childhood as Gerry. I will pay him the tremendous compliment of comparing his word choice to P. G. Wodehouse, the master of the English language. In fact, I recommend reading with a nature encyclopedia and a dictionary at hand if you wish to receive the full benefit of Durrell’s descriptions. Unless of course you know offhand exactly what diaphanous means or what a boungainvillaea looks like. The impressive diction used in My Family and Other Animals is one of the reasons I recommend this book for readers sixteen and older.
Local Color and Hilarity
Throughout his book Durrell scatters colorful characterizations, and sometimes caricatures, of local inhabitants, flora, and fauna of Corfu. He has a keen eye for foibles and humor both human and animal. You will laugh till you cry at his description of the misadventures of his mother’s sea-slug of a dog Dodo with the leg that pops out of joint. His account of a battle between a mantid and a gecko is an epic in miniature. And the time his older brother opened a matchbox containing a snugly ensconced mother scorpion at the dining room table leads to a situational comedy of legendary proportions. These and other adventures of the Durrell family created a genuine problem as I read because it made me laugh so hard it woke my nursing baby repeatedly. Taken as a whole,My Family and Other Animals is a happy mix of P. G. Wodehouse’s humorous writing and James Herriot’s appreciation for All Creatures Great and Small which I wholeheartedly recommend as a worthwhile book.
In our house, I am undeniably the bibliophile. My very busy, military officer husband used to claim he didn’t like reading, but over time has altered his position to: “I only like (and have time for) reading practical, inspiring books.” Once he actually finds a book he likes though, he thinks everyone should read it! This list includes some of his favorites, which you will probably hear recommended over dinner if you ever come to our house.
Peter Kreeft’s clear, logical style resonates with men, so it’s no surprise my husband’s first book recommendation is usually Making Choices: Practical Wisdom for Everyday Moral Decisions. Actually, both of us loved this book, because it offers exactly what the title states: practical wisdom about everyday moral decisions. Kreeft provides a general framework and then addresses some specific common moral conundrums.
Another Matthew Kelly book which is perfect for a couple to read together is The Seven Levels of Intimacy. This book is sure to help you improve communication with your spouse and build a more meaningful relationship. Matthew Kelly’s simple, direct style makes this a quick and easy read.
St. Alphonsus de Liguori’s Uniformity with God’s Will is a very short but highly practical little book which lays out a path to holiness based on submitting our will to God’s throughout the events of every day life.
Since we were blessed to attend classes by Dr. John Cuddeback during college, we have a particular fondness for True Friendship: Where Virtue Becomes Happiness. Cuddeback draws on Aristotelian philosophy to explain what true friendship looks like and what its purpose is.
My husband has a fondness for Venerable Fulton Sheen’s work, whether in audio or book form. We own Life is Worth Living, which is a collection of scripts from Sheen’s extremely popular television show of the same title. Each chapter is short, but thought-provoking.
Dale Ahlquist takes G. K. Chesterton’s prodigious genius and simplifies it to a level that mere mortals can understand at the end of a fourteen hour work day. All Roads: Roamin’ Catholic Apologetics is a series of very short (three page usually) chapters which clarify Chesterton’s unique wisdom and insight on a wide variety of topics.
The Way, Furrow, The Forge are three spiritual classics by Josemaria Escriva which my husband enjoys for its concise yet compelling one liners about following Jesus.
Here is the second part of my list of worthwhile fiction for Catholic High Schoolers. (Check out Part 1 here). I recommend these books for young adults sixteen and older either because of a more challenging theme or more mature content such as graphic violence, situations involving fornication or adultery, or language. I will specify why each book requires a more mature reader to better assist you as the parent in determining what is appropriate for your teenager.
The three Bronte sisters each wrote a classic. Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre is the fascinating story of a young woman’s moral and spiritual growth to adulthood through the tumultuous love affair she engages in with her pupil’s guardian. Mature content includes an adulterous affair, sensuality, and mature themes.
Emily Bronte’s single published book is Wuthering Heights, a book showing both a deep moral sensibility in its author and a shocking immorality in its characters. Themes about the havoc sin wreaks on the perpetrators and even an entire community are twined with a story about forbidden love and vengeance.
Ann Bronte’s The Tenant of Wildfell Hall is yet another book that is attempting to uphold morality by showing the consequences of sin in sharp, ugly detail. Alcohol use, illicit affairs, and adultery make this appropriate for a more mature reader.
I recommend most of G. K. Chesterton’s fiction for an older reader simply because his soaring imaginative genius can be better grasped and appreciated the older one gets. Manalive , was my favorite Chesterton book as a teenager, inspiring me to live each day with passion and purpose, rejoicing in being alive. On a more basic level, this is also one of Chesterton’s funniest works. The Flying Inn: A Novel is another simply hilarious work about a band of madcap rebels resisting prohibition and arrest in a merry journey across England.
Chesterton takes on atheism in The Ball and the Cross. A passionate Christian and equally passionate atheist desire to duel over their differences, but find themselves unlikely allies when the government refuses to allow them to fight over their difference in belief. The Paradoxes Of Mr Pond is a series of loosely connected mystery stories, thought-provoking and entertainingly recounted. The Poet and the Lunatics: Episodes in the Life of Gabriel Gale is another collection of mystery stories, this time exploring the idea that a half mad poet may be the person best suited to understand and solve crimes committed by lunatics. The Man Who Was Thursday is the book subtitled “A Nightmare” by Chesterton, and it is indeed a topsy-turvy, mind-bending adventure-mystery novel. Somehow Chesterton manages to combine allegorical and philosophical with fast-paced and exciting.
Wilkie Collins wrote two fascinating mystery stories, particularly notable for their use of first person narratives from a variety of characters to tell the story. The Woman in White is a romance, a mystery, and an examination of the vulnerability of English women in the nineteenth century. Mature content includes an abusive forced marriage.
Collins’ most famous book, The Moonstone, is both a captivating mystery and important from a literary perspective as one of the first modern crime novels.
The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas is a very lengthy, but worthwhile, novel treating an important theme about whether revenge brings real happiness or healing. Mature but not explicit content about an out of wedlock relationship resulting in a child, murders, and the main character having a mistress.
George Eliot’s most famous work is probably Middlemarch, but I personally enjoyed Daniel Deronda very much. Although long, this book explores many worthy themes about the importance of family, the Jewish people’s place in history, friendship, and true love being willing the best for the other person. Mature content includes illegitimate children, adultery, and domestic abuse.
C. S. Forester’s Hornblower Saga is a long series of books chronicling the adventures of a British naval officer beginning with Mr. Midshipman Hornblower, set in 1793 during the Napoleonic wars, and following him to promotions, wars, and self-growth.
Elizabeth Gaskell’s Wives and Daughters and North and South are two enjoyable and thought-provoking books, each in their own way. Wives and Daughters centers around the family, exploring personal relationships and human nature through a comedic lens. North and South, though also revolving around a romantic plot, takes on larger themes about capitalism and humanism.
Nathaniel Hawthorne’s classic work The Scarlet Letter is a compelling study of sin and its consequences. For a mature reader due to a plot revolving around adultery and an illegitimate child.
A familiarity with Homer is necessary in a well-read individual, so certainly have your teenager read The Iliad and The Odyssey.
I have two more C. S. Lewis titles to add to my recommended list. Till We Have Faces: A Myth Retold is the story of Cupid and Psyche retold by Psyche’s plain sister. This is a masterful explanation of human emotions and motivations, and Lewis called it his best book. The Great Divorce is an amazing allegory about heaven and hell, perfect scope for Lewis’ trademark clear distinctions and concise philosophical explanations. He raises questions such as are the gates of hell locked from the outside or inside?
The Betrothed: I Promessi Sposi , by Allesandro Manzoni, is a powerful story about the power of love and loyalty, as shown by a young couple who though separated for much of the lengthy book never swerve from their devotion to one another. A mature reader due to length.
Taylor Marshall has created a unique book that combines ancient legends about early saints with history and fantasy in Sword and Serpent. I found this book a very enjoyable look at the early church and how famous legends about Saints Blaise, Christopher, Nicholas, and George may have begun. A mature reader due to some sexual references and a truly disturbing look at evil.
Margaret O’Hara’s My Friend Flicka series is one of those books far too often considered a children’s book, when in fact it is more appropriate for older teenagers or adults. The classic story of daydreamer Ken’s coming of age through his love of a horse is beautifully written and utterly memorable. The sequel, Thunderhead, is also excellent. I recommend these books for an older reader due to the sexual content between the parents.
George Orwell’s 1984 is one of the most famous books of the modern age, a real modern classic. This dystopian novel is both prophetic and disturbing in its vision of an increasingly totalitarian government which attempts to control every facet of life and brooks no individuality. 1984 is a powerful message not to hand all authority over to and place all trust in a centralized government. Sexual content and violence make me recommend for older readers.
Cry, the Beloved Country by Alan Paton is a look at life for the natives of South Africa under white rule. Beautiful prose, almost poetic in nature, combines with an ugly story of desperation and desolation in an unlikely harmony of that makes this book a classic. Older readers due to violence and despair.
Quo Vadis by H. Sienkiewicz is an enduringly timely story set against the backdrop of Nero’s persecution of the early Church. A young patrician, Marcus, follows a circuitous path to converting to Christianity. Sienkiewicz provides not only a moving portrayal of early Christianity, but also an enlightening look at Nero’s court and ancient Rome. More appropriate for older readers due to sensuality and violence.
Michael Shaara’s The Killer Angels leaves the reader familiar with the main characters and action of the Battle of Gettysburg. An entire novel set during the four days of the battle, this book delves deeply into the thoughts, emotions, and motivations of the players in this decisive battle. For more mature readers due to violence.