The Translation of the Bones by Francesca Kay

The second week of January is probably too early to pick the best literary novel of the year, but The Translation of the Bones by Francesca Kay will certainly find a spot high on my personal list by the end of 2012.

This superbly crafted tale of how the child-like faith of the mentally disturbed church volunteer Mary Margaret O'Reilly leads to unspeakable tragedy is compelling and profound.

Without spoiling the story, I can only reveal that the when the devout Mary Margaret has an accident while cleaning the crucifix in the chapel of the Sacred Heart church in South London, she believes that she has re-opened the wounds of Christ and that belief drives her to seek redemption which ends in the tragedy. Since the accident and her response to it happened with visitors in the chapel, a sensation ensues which drags the priest struggling with his own faith into the situation.

Although the length of a novel, The Translation of the Bones is so expertly and sparely written that it reads more like a short story. The plot has no loose ends and all of the characters--Mary Margaret, Father Diamond, Mary Margaret's morbidly obese mother Fidelma, and fellow parishioners Stella Morrison and Alice Armitage--are complex and believable.

Francesca Kay is a British author who was won the 2009 Orange Prize for New Writers  for her first novel, An Equal Stillness (not yet published in the US).  This second work is an inspiring story of faith, loneliness and family relationships which prompts the reader to reflect on these themes after finishing the book.

Catherine The Great by Robert Massie

Over the Christmas holidays I read Robert Massie's Catherine the Great using my Kindle app. That was a smart choice, since the book is a tome, weighing in at 574 pages!

I first read a biography of Catherine the Great as a young girl from a series called Landmark that offered biographies and histories for young readers.  Needless to say, it offered a sanitized version Catherine's private life and her 12 lovers.  Years later I read another full biography of her life, but can't remember the name or author. But it wasn't aimed at young readers, and neither is Massie's book.

This biography is well-researched and well-written. I think it could have used a more discerning editor because occasionally the narrative became lost in the weeds of the author's intensive research and I found myself skimming the text hoping to get to the point more quickly. Sometimes the point was so minor that it added little to the reader's (or maybe I should say "this reader's" understanding of the subject.

That said, Catherine the Great should appeal to both academic and interested lay readers. Catherine began life as a minor German princess who moved to Russia after her betrothal and marriage to Peter, the heir to the throne of Russia who was the nephew of Empress Elizabeth. Because Peter refused his marital duty to her, probably because of impotence,  she suffered for many years as the childless wife until the Empress insisted she choose a lover from two options presented to her and get about the business of producing an heir. Once the heir is produced, the Empress takes him away from her and raises him herself, setting the stage for another generation of dysfunctional relationships.

Massie documents 12 lovers of Catherine over her long life, and produces some evidence that she did marry one of them,  Gregory Potemkin, who remained the most influential man in her life until his death. The lovers were sequential and it seems that Catherine used most of them to provide some semblance of family that she never was able to achieve in the conventional fashion. Although she had a second child, Anna, who died very young, it's interesting to speculate on how she avoided more pregnancies during her child-bearing years, something Massie does not address.

The story of how Catherine managed to wrest the throne from her feckless and emotionally disturbed husband and then go on to institute many progressive and wise reforms for the Russian people and nation is even more fascinating and important. Massie does an excellent job of describing how the neglected and oppressed young wife sought refuge in books, educated herself, ultimately took her place among the leading intellectuals of the day, and became regarded in western Europe as the model of enlightened despotism.

In summary, Catherine the Great is not light reading but worth the effort. Several of my Facebook friends are reading it now, so I hope they will add their own comments to this review when they are finished.

The Christmas Cantata by Mark Schweizer

Longer than a short story, shorter than a book, The Christmas Cantata is the latest in the Liturgical Mystery series by Mark Schweizer.

It is also quite different from the other books ( The Alto Wore Tweed, The Tenor Wore Tapshoes, The Organist Wore Pumps, etc) because the plot involves a literary mystery rather than a murder mystery and does not feature Schweizer's trademark hilarious takeoffs on Raymond Chandler's writing style. I read it on my Kindle (for only $2.99) and loved it!

The story is set in St. Germaine and features the familiar characters of the series: Police Chief/Choirmaster-Organist Hayden Konig and his wife Meg, erstwhile Mayor Pete Moss, Pauli-Girl, Noylene  Faberge'-DuPont, and all the usual suspects.

Searching for a new musical offering for the Christmas services at St. Barnabus, Konig finds the score of The Christmas Cantata and begins searching for its composer and the story behind it.

Instead of weaving his usual Chandler parodies into the plot, Schweizer creates a backstory that is well integrated into the narrative. Even though I sensed where the story was going towards the end I found myself tearing up (in a good way!) at the conclusion.

The Christmas Cantata is a classic that anyone could enjoy!

Lionheart by Sharon Kay Penman

Although I am a big fan of Sharon Kay Penman's historical fiction and mysteries, I confess I was disappointed with her latest historical novel, Lionheart, about King Richard I of England.

Penman, a former attorney, is a meticulous researcher. I have found her stories to be historically accurate and free from the anachronisms that plague much historical fiction. 

Herein lies the problem, I think: the author and her story got lost in the weeds of her extensive research on the Third Crusade. This book is far more history than fiction. It needed a good editor to pare down the recitation of facts and genealogy that bogged it down, and to encourage more of the character development that is a great strength of Penman's other work. Most of the characters in the book (including King Richard) are one-dimensional.

Alternatively, it could have been a good work of non-fiction. I admire the author's thorough research and use of primary resources. In fact Penman says in her afterword that she developed so much information about Richard I that she found it could not all be used in one book--which was her original plan.

Penman plans a second part to her story of the Lionheart--picking up after the Third Crusade where this novel ends and continuing through the King's capture and subsequent life. That book will be called The King's Ransom. I'll probably read it and will be interested to see if the author gets out of the weeds of history and regains her creative approach to telling the story. 

I would only recommend the book for Penman fans because it is atypical of her writing. If you have never read her work, start with any of her other novels, like The Sunne In Splendor or When Christ and All His Saints Slept.

The Dovekeepers by Alice Hoffman

Although Alice Hoffman is a popular author, The Dovekeepers is the first of her novels that I have read. I was drawn to her subject--the tragedy of Masada--because of our recent trip to Israel where we visited that site.

Hoffman was also inspired by her visit to Israel and to Masada. Although the story is pure fiction, it rests on a solid historical foundation. While reading it I was constantly reminded of our own tour of Masada and the desolate land that surrounds it. Anyone who has had that experience will find themselves reliving it as they read the book.

The Dovekeepers is told from the point of view of four women narrators who are living in the Masada fortress as the Roman legions are encamped around them preparing to storm their defenses and quell their rebellion. The women have been assigned to care for the dovecotes--a vital task because the dove's waste becomes the fertilizer that causes their plants to grow and thrive in the salty desert. 

Themes of the story include the spirituality of silence, the brutality of men, devotion to God, the life-giving force of women and the persistent appeal of pagan mystical practices. 

It's that last theme that has brought Hoffman the most criticism. Several Jewish reviewers took great exception to the prominent role given to devotion to Ashtoreth and the consistent emphasis on magic expressed by the key characters.

I wasn't perturbed by this until I reached the last part of the book where the narrator is the Witch of Moab. At this point  the mysticism became tedious and I began skimming over it. In an afterword Hoffman lists a couple of books on Jewish magic as sources for her writing along with several historical works. 

Although I tired of this theme by the end of the novel, I think it is believable. The characters in the story live in the late first century AD. Each of the narrators are women who are not completely accepted by the main Hebrew community--they are outsiders and have a different point of view from the more orthodox Jews. Whenever people face grave danger that they are powerless against, like the Roman legions, it is always tempting to fall back on "magical thinking" as a way of exerting control over your circumstances.

And after all, Hoffman wrote a popular novel Practical Magic (which I have not read), so the reader should not be surprised by the incorporation of this theme.

The Dovekeepers is well written and the four major characters are complex and well developed. Women readers with a background in the history of Masada and/or the experience of visiting it will enjoy reading the book. I'm not sure men would like it because there are really no admirable male characters in the story.

And of course if you have little tolerance for the fey and the mystic, I don't recommend it to you.

Rome and Jerusalem by Martin Goodman

Our recent trip to Israel piqued my interest in reading more about the country. One of the books recommended to us by our guide was Rome and Jerusalem: The Clash of Ancient Civilizations by Martin Goodman.

When you read the New Testament you are aware that the power and influence of Rome surrounded Jesus, the disciples, Paul and the early church. But a trip around Israel, with numerous Roman ruins and relics, makes the Roman presence very real.

At 624 pages, Rome and Jerusalem is not light reading--in both senses of that adjective! So I am glad that I read it on my IPad instead of in hardcover.

Goodman covers the period between the  first and fourth centuries A.D. The destruction of the temple and the expulsion of the Jews from Jerusalem in 70 AD is, of course, the focus of the book. For most of the period prior to the destruction of the temple Rome allowed the Jews much religious freedom because they respected the antiquity of their religion. Why this relatively benevolent attitude changed is attributed by Goodman to the foundational differences between Roman and Jewish culture, religion and practices.

Comparing and contrasting Roman and Jewish lifestyles, politics, identities, communities and perspectives, Goodman reveals the distinct and unreconcilable differences between these two civilizations that ultimately led to the destruction of the ancient Jewish state. The author makes a persuasive case for his theory that the origins of anti-semitism can be found in the Roman response to this clash and the attempt to wipe out the Jewish nation.

I found the book fascinating and informative and recommend it to anyone with an interest in the world where Jesus lived and in which His church formed and grew. It certainly has enriched my understanding of the New Testament.

Jesus, My Father, the CIA and Me by Ian Morgan Cron

Intrigued by the title, I accepted the offer from Thomas Nelson publishers of a review copy of Jesus, My Father, the CIA and Me by Ian Morgan Cron. 

The author is an Episcopal priest in Greenwich, Connecticut. I was not familiar with him, but he wrote another book, Chasing Francis: A Pilgrim's Tale, and apparently is on the speaking circuit as well.

Cron's father was a brilliant and handsome man who made and lost several fortunes as his growing addiction to alcohol took over his life. The author, as the youngest child in the family, had the worst experience as his older siblings had left home by the time their father turned violent and abusive. 

Cron calls his work "a memoir of sorts". This is not a traditional biography or autobiography, but a gradual revelation of who and what his father was as the author experienced it growing up.

As a young adult Cron learns that his father is actually a CIA operative and that this explains the long, unexplained absences from home that punctuated his childhood. His father's work history turns out to be a series of "covers" for his intelligence gathering assignments. 

So how does Jesus fit into all of this? Cron weaves the story of his own spiritual journey in parallel to the story of his relationship with his father. As a young boy he was drawn to God and to the church but as a teenager, in reaction to the disfunctional and frightening dynamics of his family, rejects faith in a fury at a God who seemingly does not hear his prayers for relief.

But Jesus keeps calling to him, even as he experiences his own spiral into alcohol abuse as a young adult. Cron's resolution of his spiritual crisis eventually comes when he hears a voice saying "I'm sorry" during a communion service. For years he puzzles over whether or not this voice could have been the voice of Jesus or was it an apology he was making to himself.  Several years later,  while in seminary in Denver he shares his question with "Miss Annie", an African American woman who was a member of the church he was attending.

Her answer, which I am going to summarize with her last words: "Son, love always stoops", is one of the most grace-filled moments I have ever read. 

The author is painfully honest about how the pain of his childhood informed, and continues to inform his life. His faith and relationship with Jesus help him to recognize and try to amend the ways in which he is tempted to repeat the patterns he learned growing up in an alcoholic family where the secrecy imposed by his father's employment with the CIA reinforced the impulse to denial and secrecy. 

Jesus, My Father, the CIA and Me is well written and, at times, compelling. The theme of substance abuse and its effect on the extended family that Cron explores from his personal experience will resonate with many readers. His testimony to the transformative power of faith will inspire them as well.