Review: Sex God

I surveyed my 2009 Shelf the other day, and I wasn't too thrilled with what I found. It's like I've gone on a fiction binge since college ended, and while that was fun for a while (and tempting to return to since Alruff raved about this), intellectually I crave books that will jar my brain, or at least rattle it.

So on my last trip to the library, I stayed far away from my favorite fiction section and chose to wander non-fiction for a while. One of the titles I found was the one up for review today by Rob Bell. I have to warn you, I am highly skeptical of Rob Bell. Theologically, we dissected his work at lot in school and found a lot of it lacking or at least not articulated well. But although the first few chapters of his book started off exactly as I expected it to, the last few definitely gave me exactly the kind of brain jolting I wanted.

Genre: nonfiction (theology)

Plot Synopsis: The book begins with an introduction to the "new-but-not-really-new" of "this is really about that," i.e., most of what we talk about or argue about or think about is about one thing on the surface, but really about another, deeper thing. This is basically the heart of his book--sexuality is really about spirituality.

Chapter 1 I really can't tell you what it was about, because I'm not sure myself; it was all fireworks and glitter but no substance (which is exactly what I expected of Rob Bell). Chapter 2 explains how sexuality is really just connectivity, which means that any relationship is based in sex somehow. Chapter 3 discusses the two extremes in viewing sex: as a crude, physical thing with no true value (the angelic, or gnostic, view) and the carnal hedonism that refuses to think of anything spiritual happening (the animal, or Epicurean view). Chapter 4 approaches the dark subject of lust and how to overcome it. Chapter 5 recalls a junior high dance to make a metaphor about the inherent choice and power found in love, both human and divine. Chapter 6 continues the theme of chapter 5, this time focusing more on the divine side.

Chapter 7 speaks of the intimacy of marriage, and the danger of losing it. Chapter 8 also speaks of marriage, specifically about the unity and intimacy of "two becoming one." Chapter 9 looks to the future, anaylzing Jesus' words in Luke 20:34-36 and positing that actually, marriage is just a temporary window into the state we will all be in at the Final Age. The Epilogue closes with a touching story of a marriage between two broken people that itself implodes a few years later. The point is to simultaneously shatter your rosy expectations of marriage and to give you hope; for although life is a messy business, Bell believes God can heal anyone and anything.

Structure: Each of the chapters is a pretty quick read, unless you stop to read all 173 endnotes (most of which are just Scripture references, but sometimes are short essays on some point he's making). Always opens with a recollection or story, and always closes with some sort of provacative statement. Which is good, I guess, just a little repetitive.

Execution: Bell, of Nooma fame, is known for painting powerful pictures or giving interesting perspectives on a theological subject, and this is mostly what he did in the first five chapters. Comparing God to a junior high girl, humanity to lipstick, sexuality to friendship; it's all very typically Bell. The biggest thing I disagreed with was his clearly Freudian view of sexuality, i.e. that any relationship is rooted, grounded in sex (which he sees as simply connectivity with others). I disagree, and believe that my friendships with my best friends/bridesmaids, or with my good friend Alex for that matter, is entirely divorced from any sexual feelings towards them. Likewise, this is what makes my relationship with Nicholas so special; he is the only person I have a deep, meaningful relationship with that is also sexual in nature.

If there were some way to remove chapters 7-9 from the other chapters, I would do it and recommend it to any dating couple. Bell gave very interesting, thoughtful, Biblically-grounded views about marriage, submission, intimacy, oneness, and Jesus' mysterious words about "being like angels" is all about. Some of the passages here were very moving, and sparked great discussion between Nicholas and myself.

A word about his use of the Greek/Hebrew: I normally cringe when authors insist on citing the original languages, because it's very hard to test their use of it (even for theology students). However, Bell used a fair deal of it, about 70% I was familiar with already and can verify that his use of these words are quite sound. So, I think he's fairly credible.

Theme: theology, God, sexuality, marriage, Hebrew, Greek

Read this if well, if you're already a fan of Emergent Church authors like Bell, William Young or Don Miller, obviously you will like it. But I would say that even more conservative students like myself will find some things to enjoy about it, even if you disagree with a lot more than you agree with.

3 out of 5 stars

Other works:
Velvet Elvis (his most controversial work so far)
Jesus Wants to Save Christians

If you liked this, you might also like:
C. S. Lewis' The Four Loves
There are SEVERAL commentaries out there about Song of Solomon, but I would suggest in particular Intimacy Ignited by Dillow & Pintus.

Review: Waiting

A few months ago, I mentioned that Janice Y. K. Lee (author of listed her favorite books at her site. My local library actually had one of her recommendations so I decided to give it a try.

Lee described Ha Jin's Waiting as "deliberate, painstaking prose by a master of extrapolation." For the most part I found this blurb accurate, but what really blew me away was the author's uncanny emotional realism.

Genre: novel

Plot: Lin Kong is a man conflicted. On the one hand, he is an army doctor of a respectable rank living in a fairly large city in Communist China circa 1960s and falling in love with head nurse Manna Wu. But due to government policies and the intricacies of his own heart, he cannot divorce his country wife Shuyu with her bound feet and backwards ways, living in his hometown and caring for their daughter Hua. Each year for 17 years, Lin returns to his small village and attempts to divorce his wife. But each year he is denied. This year, he promises life will be different, but he cannot foresee all the ways his world will change.

Structure: Fairly typical structure: prologue is set in the current time, the subsequent middle chunk is set in the more distant past chronologically plowing along until the prologue's events, and the conclusion is the aftermath.

Execution: Ha Jin's prose is indeed quite deliberate, and strangely moving in its subtlety. His main strength is his ability to capture, in a more convincing way than I think I have read in a long while, the way people process situations emotionally. So often I think that we as readers fill in the gaps with a few clues that authors present, the way that our brains subconsciously fill in the words of a friend's sentence on a noisy street. But Jin's book does all the work for us, and the result is a wonderful emotional story if not a very exciting or surprising one plot wise.

It's also one of the most aptly-named books I've ever come across.
Theme: Communist China, 1950s-80s.

Read this if all the summer blockbusters have left you wanting some emotional storytelling instead of all the high-gloss explosions.

3 out of 5 stars

Other works:
He's written several poetry and short story collections, but his other novels are
In the Pond
The Crazed
War Trash
A Free Life


If you liked this, you might also like:
Nicole Mones' The Last Chinese Chef and Lost in Translation
Janice Y. K. Lee's The Piano Teacher
Janette Turner Hospital's Orpheus Lost

Review: La Cucina

Ah, Sicily: land of great food, great wine, and large women who enjoy them. Rosa Fiore is one such woman, who leaves her quaint, anecdote-laden family farm for an even quainter city after the murder of her lover. Many years later, her drab life gets a breath of fresh air when L’Inglese, her English lover, ignites her passion in the kitchen and in the bedroom.

Genre: Novel

Plot: This was one of the rare books that I initially disliked but grew to enjoy as the story progressed. Usually, if I don’t like something within 50 pages, I put it down. I don’t care how famous it is or how much controversy it’s caused; if it’s not gripping me within 50 pages I’m not going to read it. By the end of the first section, I couldn’t really see the point of reading on (everything seemed so neatly tied together), but I’m certainly glad I did. This charming, almost quaint novel actually packed some deep surprises by the end!

Structure: The novel is told by Rosa Fiore in the first person. It’s divided unequally between 4 periods of her life, named after the four seasons in nature, with the bulk of it occurring in section 3. Perhaps the best choice on the author’s part is that the majority of the story happens to Rosa in middle age. In a world where staying 17 forever is the ultimate fantasy, this is like a breath of fresh, hormone-free air. The book also employs in media res, my absolute favorite literary device when used correctly and my most abhorred when not. Thankfully, Prior did it right.

Execution and Style: Prior’s first chapters start strong, but as I mentioned earlier, by the end of the first chapter it seemed oddly flat. There was no hook to keep reading other than the bulk of pages behind my hands. Only in the middle did she begin to throw out chunks of suspense and unanswered questions.

Also, there’s a fine line between authors building a sense of authenticity when mixing two languages (in this case, English and Italian) and, conversely, just coming off as know-it-alls. Prior fell in the latter half. In fact, her constant switching between the two actually caused some mental disorientation. I kept asking myself, why is this Italian woman thinking in English?

Scores of characters make an appearance throughout, but remarkably, none feel too flat (even the pervert bank manager, who emerges only to masturbate in the adjacent window to the action). This large cast of comical, quaint characters—along with the dreamy, larger-than-life events that kept occurring (a fire caused by a sex dream which gets the whole town horny?)—almost enticed me to go off in search of an Italian farm to work on. But the most important secondary character of all was the food constantly streaming from Rosa’s hands. Prior did a wonderful job of interjecting long, descriptive recipes in prose form; I’m pretty sure I actually salivated at one point.

Theme: Large Italian women cooking large Italian meals pretty much sums this one up. But if that’s not enough for you, there’s also the Mafia, libraries, chattery grandmas, horny grandpas, pizza millionaires, clairvoyant Siamese twins, and James Bond-like English spies/lovers. And the food. Did I mention the food?

Read This If: you love Italian cooking, or are looking for a “feel good” type of story but lent Chocolat to a friend. A word of caution, though; if you’re expecting a serious historical fiction novel about true-life 1960s Italy, this isn’t for you. Seriously, it’s a great read that’s just quiet enough for a relaxing break between suspense/thriller novels but wth just enough excitement to be worth your while.

3 out of 5 stars.

Other Works:
Cabaret
Nectar
Ardor

If you liked this, you might also like:
Joanne Harris’ Chocolat
Elizabeth Gilbert’s Eat Pray Love
Natsumi Ando and Miyuki Kobayashi’s Kitchen Princess series (manga)