A post in which I show my usual skeptical self

Is there a word for a female curmudgeon? I mean, one that isn't totally nasty and unflattering? I can think of a lot of nasty descriptives for the fairer sex, but nothing that equals the "curmudgeon."

I think I may be one of those.

I know that it is a pre-requisite for all Christian bloggers to love Challies.com. He is a prolific blogger, and he writes good book reviews. I actually was very disappointed when I could not find a review of the book Heaven on his blog, because I knew if he did one, it would be good.

Anyway, in the blog circles where I skim around, I have been informed in several places that Tim Challies will be featuring a new blog at The Gospel Coalition (one of my favourite places!) where he will read and review all of the New York Times Bestsellers, non-fiction variety. The Thirsty Theologian (another of my favourite places) tipped me off to this originally. You can check out the details here.

The thing that immediately ran through my mind was this: the Best Sellers List talks about the books people are buying the most, but does that mean they are the best books? I guess for the purposes of Mr. Challies' project, i.e. lessons for culture and worldview, those would be a good measuring stick. However, for myself, (and who cares what I think, Tim Challies I am not) the Mrs. Curmudgeon (or snob, perhaps) in me can't help but wonder if the most popular books are the best books to read. Think about the Christian publishing world. Are the most popular books the best books? Walk into the local Christian bookstore and have a peek at what the top sellers there are and you may be surprised.

Another thing that I thought about was the absence of reading fiction. Mr. Challies commented in his post that he felt that non-fiction offered a better picture of what the culture is like. I am wondering how far one could take that. Let's take the Industrial Revolution, for example. We can read about the fact and figures of it, but does not Dickens provide a glimpse into the perceptions of the time around him? The novels of Jane Austen will not give us a history of the class system in England in the 17th Century, but her stories represent very well a view of that system through the eyes of someone who was inhibited by its dictates. One of the courses I took in university was British History Since 1603; we read a few novels and discussed how they reflected the mindset of the times. When I was homeschooling, I learned that studying history through literature adds a wonderful dimension. Of course, we don't ignore the non-fiction books, but writers live in the very times in which we study. To see how they portray their worlds through fiction, is, I think a valuable thing. I think it rounds one's study of history out to read the fiction of the time. However, one certainly cannot read everything, so one must choose.

I guess I am a skeptic, because when someone tells me I "must" read a book, I generally think twice. That being said, I'm sure that the new blog chronicling this adventure will be a huge success. Readers love to read about what others are reading and Mr. Challies certainly knows how to write a good book review

Now, if someone can figure out a good name for a female curmudgeon, I'll take it.

Okay, on to Poetry Wednesday.

This piece of verse was written by a gentleman named Padriac Pearse. If you want to know who he is, you have to have a look into the history of Ireland at the beginning of the 20th Century. To understand the significance of the poem, you would have to have a little idea of what was happening in Pearse's life when he wrote the poem. Pearse was a participant in the Easter Rising of 1916. This poem, called "The Mother," at the request of his own mother, was written before he and his brother went to fight in the Rising:

I do not grudge them; Lord, I do not grudge
My two strong sons that have seen go out
To break their strength and die, they and a few,
In bloody protest for a glorious thing.
They shall be spoken of among their people,
The generations shall remember them,
And call them blessed;
But I will speak their names to my own heart
In long nights;
The little names that were familiar once
Round my dead hearth.
Lord, thou art hard on mothers;
We suffer in their coming and their going;
And tho' I grudge them not, I weary, weary
Of the long sorrow -- And yet I have my joy:
My sons were faithful, and they fought.