In this novel a man appears in Israel who acts like - indeed, seems to be - Jesus Christ.  The plot is intriguing, but the disappointing ending, one dimensional characters, and ridiculous dialog (too many exclamation points!) detract from the story.  Still, it’s a compelling read that prompts you to consider the nature of faith.

An archaeologist finds Christ’s bones.  Is it a hoax?  The plot would make this novel a page tuner if only the characters were a little more believable or the author a little more skilled.  It lacks the serious religious themes that made the similar “On the Third Day” more than a thriller.

The intriguing premise of this novel is that the Cold War was, in part, fought with spiritual weapons.  Specifically, fallen angels, the genii of Middle Eastern legend.  More substantial than most “secret histories”, it’s Stephen King meets John LeCarre’.  Powers says he never changes an historical event, which makes his ability fabricate the “true story” behind those events even more impressive.  Reading this is an much fun as reading the early Robert Ludlum thrillers.

Eric Weiner chose a travel itinerary based on how happy citizens of countries report themselves to be.  He went to Iceland (happy), to Moldova (unhappy), and to several other countries.  A self-proclaimed “grump”, he seems sincerely interested in the nature and causes of happiness and this curiosity makes the book not only a good travelogue but an interesting reflection on human nature.

George Washington is an enigma, the essential founding father who seems to lack a personality. Joseph Ellis rectifies that in “His Excellency: George Washington”, revealing Washington’s character in this brief biography. Ellis portrays Washington as an ambitious man whose ambition was firmly under control and as a man more motivated, even in his support for revolution, by regard for his station and legacy than by intellectually arrived at conclusions. The book is short, so it lacks detail, but it succeeds in what it sets out to do.

David McCullough’s books are exceptionally enjoyable, and this one is no exception. It brings John Adams, his wife Abigail, and their sometime friend Thomas Jefferson to life. The portrait of Adams is fully drawn. His intellectual life, his family life, his self-image, and his struggles are all vividly presented. The only problem with the book is that it leaves the reader thinking that today’s politicians are ignorant pygmies by comparison.

“The Power and the Glory” is a simple story set in 1930’s Mexico about a priest burdened with his own sins and a craving for drink who perseveres in his ministry despite that fact that he knows he will be killed if he is caught by the government. The plot is simple, but the subjects are complex; the book is about the importance of the Eucharist, the need for sacramental confession, the messiness of loving others, and the value of each human life (and afterlife).

Graham’s characters are sparely but vividly portrayed; mean circumstances do not rob them of their dignity even when they act foolishly. Graham’s world is the real world, where holiness is found more in suffering than in success.

While the book might seem to condone the softer modern take on weaknesses of the flesh, it acknowledges their sinfulness while maintaining the importance of the Church and its sacraments to man’s salvation. The ultimate message here is the importance of salvation itself: judgment is real and what we do matters.

Several lines from the book struck me with particular force:

The priest pleading with a dying American bandit, begging him to confess:

Remember you are dying. Don’t depend too much on God’s mercy. He has given you this chance: He may not give you another.

The priest confessing his sins, alone, in prison:

The words were becoming formal again, meaning nothing. He had no confessor to turn his mind from the formula to the real.

The priest at the end of his life:

He knew now that at the end there was only one thing that counted - to be a saint.

For decades, starting in the early 50’s, Irwin Denison Norling photographed Bloomington, Minnesota, a booming bedroom suburb of Minneapolis now best known as the home of the Mall of America. By day a 9-to-5 Honeywell employee, at all other times he was a photographer who interrupted sleep and family dinners at the call of a police scanner, rushing out to take pictures of auto accidents, murders, and stray animal rescues. He also shot more mundanes events like parades, kiddie TV show host appearances, and supermarket openings. He was an unofficial police photographer, local newspaper stringer, and documentarian of the suburban explosion. It’s tempted to call him obsessed, but “dedicated” is both more kind and more accurate.

The Norling photos - while most were taken by father Irwin, his project was a family affair - aren’t striking for their style or artistic quality: the Norlings weren’t quite Weegees of the prairies. Nor will pictures of Bloomington fascinate anyone not from the area. They are an interesting look at a period of great change in the United States: the time of the great migration to the suburbs.

In this short novel, a priest is sent to a remote Irish monastery where the Latin Mass is celebrated in defiance of the order’s orders.  Dialog ensues.  It’s interesting, but has been overtaken by events and the ambiguous ending - as much a hallmark of the 70’s as harvest gold refrigerators - is annoying.

In the library copy I read, an early edition from 1972,  the blurb says, “Although written as prophecy, ‘Catholics’ sets forth the crisis of religion in the modern world. The future it depicts is, startlingly, in the process of becoming true.”  While “the future it depicts” is a good example of what Pope Benedict XVI calls the “dictatorship of relativism”, thanks to John Paul II and Christ’s promise that the gates of Hell will not prevail against His church, it’s a prophecy that didn’t, and won’t, come true.

In railroad slang, a “boomer” is a railroad man who drifts from railroad to railroad.   The hero of this 1936 novel, Eddie Sand, is a boomer telegrapher.  He’s dedicated to what he calls the “careless road”, and values his freedom above all.   Like many a fictional cowboy hero, he shows up, does a job, solves a problem - often outwitting a boss in the process - and moves on.  Because of his competence he’s assured of another job down the line.  He might be tempted by a woman’s charms to settle down and become a “homeguard”, but he never succumbs.

“The Boomer” is a great period novel, full of the attitudes, technology, and lingo of early 20th century railroading.

Another 800 pages of the “Honorverse“. Thanks to the cover art it wins the prize for “most embarrassing book for an adult male to be seen reading”. It has some good points: it’s much better than the last book in the series, it advances the story and characters, and there’s lots of space combat. However, Weber should toss out one half of his words and add some human interest and variety to the combat scenes.

During the last few books in the series I find myself rooting for the Havenite bad guys. At least they’re a republic, not a bunch of bowing and scraping monarchists like the protagonist nations. Sadly, Weber’s heroes always have a deus ex machina up their sleeves and I’m always disappointed.

The amount of time I’ve spent on this series, has made me resolve to read less genre series fiction. Or at least less genre series fiction that comes in 800-page chunks.

Berry started out strong. In fact, I compared his first book to Ludlum’s early books. He then did the Dan Brown thing, writing three novels about “secrets” of the Catholic Church. Now he’s doing the James Bond movie bit with an over-the-top, all-action novel that completely abandons little things like pacing, motivation, coherence, and characterization. I can’t fault Berry for cranking his money machine again, but he’s shown that he’s capable of better work.

Another “Honorverse” tome. I had to take three runs at this one and it’s only the hope that the following volumes in the series will be worth reading that made me slog through it. Are science fiction writers still paid by the word?

“Chronicles” isn’t complete enough to be called Bob Dylan’s autobiography. It’s more of non-chronological memoir, starting in the New York City folk scene of the early 60’s, jumping to Woodstock, NY, following Dylan’s most popular period, wandering down to New Orleans in the 80’s and the making of an album, and winding up back at the top of Highway 61 in the Minnesota of his childhood. That bare description makes it sound random, but, like his songs, it’s allusive. If he sometimes seems to be reaching, much of the writing is vivid and it all has a strong personal voice.

The book serves as a catalog of and homage to the people that influenced his art. Of course you expect to find mention of Woody Guthrie, but it’s surprising to read the a nod from wrestler Gorgeous George to the teenage Dylan playing in a Minnesota armory helped build his confidence as a performer. And I wouldn’t have expected to hear Dylan mention Frank Sinatra’s “Ebb Tide” as one of his favorite songs. He even says that “the next Dylan” will probably be a rapper. Dylan - young and old - is a cultural sponge, a mulligan stew of influences.

If you’re looking for revelations about Dylan’s personal life you won’t find it here. If you’re more interested in Dylan the artist, and, especially, the sources and processes of his art, you’ll want to read this book.

The subtitle pretty much describes this book. Collins gives us a baker’s dozen of lively and fascinating essays on forgotten folk who might have - but didn’t - make it into the history books. History books, after all, tend to focus on people who succeeded. There’s the eponymous John Banvard, once probably the wealthiest painter in the world, creator of a half-mile long panorama of the Mississippi River, who died in obscurity. There’s William Ireland, who discovered Shakespeare’s “Vortigern and Rowena“, a play Shakespeare never wrote. Collins even tells us why some old houses have blue window panes.

“Banvard’s Folly” is a fun read.

(Collins’ blog is worth a look, too.)