The Year of Living Biblically by A.J. Jacobs

Read: 23 December, 2011

For the last year, I have been working on a project to blog the Bible (and doing a terrible job of it for the last two months), so a book like The Year of Living Biblically struck a chord. Like A.J. Jacobs, I've also been trying to make sense of a book that is at once one of the founding pillars of my culture, and yet profoundly alien.

The Year of Living Biblically is, of course, a book of its genre: Stunt Journalism. Jacobs does kookie things like paint his door frames with lamb's blood (or, rather, with lamb pan drippings) and throws pebbles at adulterers. And like any book in this genre, he concludes with his insights and feel-good message.

But in the midst of this formulaicism, I did find food for thought. There was a lot of discussion about what it really means to take the Bible literally, and how to deal with the application of the rules in a cultural context that is so foreign to any the Bible's authors could have possibly envisioned.

One element I particularly enjoyed was Jacobs's insistence on turning the Bible into a Self Help manual. Even when called out on this by a member of his "religious advisory council," he goes right back to trying to draw life lessons!

One theme he kept coming back to is that everything happens for a reason. He explains early in the book that his wife believes this and part of his journey is coming to accept at least some version of this. Believing that there are reasons beyond chemical reactions and physical laws is, he declares, "certainly healthier." This profound and far-reaching statement is given as a throw-away line in the middle of a broader discussion, and it never receives the serious discussion it deserves. Is it, truly, healthier to believe something that makes us feel good about ourselves without any evidence for it to be actually true?

Prior to reading The Year of Living Biblically, I'd heard complaints that it trivialises religion and makes it look bad. It's all about legalism, and focuses on things like stoning adulterers rather than the broader moral teachings. But having now read the book, I haven't found this to be the case at all. Jacobs gives a fair acknowledgement to the legalism of the Old Testament. The bulk of the book, however, is a discussion of the moral teachings and about the applicability and relevance of the book as a whole in a modern, North American cultural setting. Overall, I found his treatment of the Bible to be extremely respectful; perhaps, even, too respectful at times.

Jacobs has a very readable writing style and he's generally quite good at finding the right balance between entertaining and provoking thought. I'd say it's an important read for those who consider themselves to be Jewish or Christian, because it initiates a very important discussion that I think Western society really needs to have about what it means to be Judeo-Christian and what the Bible's place should be in our culture.

Under the Banner of Heaven by Jon Krakauer

Read: 18, May, 2011

In 1984, Brenda Lafferty and her 15-month-old daughter, Erica, were murdered in their home in American Fork, Utah. Eighteen years later, Elizabeth Smart was abducted from her bedroom in Salt Lake City, Utah. In both cases, the crimes were committed by Mormon fundamentalists who believed in the doctrine of Celestial (plural) Marriage.

In Under the Banner of Heaven: A Story of Violent Faith, Krakauer investigates these two crimes, splicing in the Mormon story and the events that lead to the schism between the Fundamentalist church with the more mainstream LDS church. He also takes a hard look at some of the Mormon scriptures that the Lafferty brothers and Elizabeth Smart's kidnapper, Brian David Mitchell, used to justify their actions.

In particular, Krakauer condemns the idea of continuing revelation, saying that it makes it possible for individuals to justify any action as revealed commandment from God. With this idea firmly entrenched in Mormonism, it is almost impossible for the more mainstream leaders to rein in the crazies. In the background, throughout all the narratives, patriarchal polygamy looms.

The book is very strong in its narrative, but doesn't set out to make a point or place blame. As a result, Under the Banner of Heaven couldn't legitimately be called an anti-Mormon book. It also meant that there wasn't a good sense of scale - How many women are currently in polygamous relationships? How many children are being raised in these families and, potentially, being forced into marriages themselves? How often are crimes relating to Mormon polygamy committed?

Overall, I found it to be a very good read. Krakauer is a great storyteller and the stories themselves are interesting (albeit difficult to stomach). And, while Under the Banner of Heaven does give a fairly clear picture of the specific individuals and events covered, it's hard to extrapolate that into any kind of knowledge about Mormonism or patriarchal polygamy.

Most quotable line: "If you want to know the truth, I think people within the religion, people who live here in Colorado City, they're probably happier on the whole than people on the outside. But some things in life are more important than being happy - like being free to think for yourself."

Quiverfull by Kathryn Joyce

Read: 10 August, 2009

Joyce examines not so much the Quiverfull movement as she does the Christian Patriarchy movement - Quiverfull, of course, being one component of it. The Patriarchy movement centres around the belief that feminism has caused a number of social ills that can be remedied only by having women leave the workforce and return home to be submissive wives and mothers. Quiverfull is the added belief that all attempts to limit the number of children a family has is an insult to God (the most famous practitioners being the Duggar family with their eighteen - and counting - children).

Joyce's analysis is mostly uncritical, her own feelings only rarely show through and, then, introduced explicitly as her own views. Her style is to simply narrate with few adjectives the views of her subjects and allowing them to speak for themselves.

Despite her fairness, Joyce's writing style leaves something to be desired. Her sentences are so long and cover so many different ideas at once that I frequently found myself having to go back and read again. This interrupted the flow of my reading and, therefore, diminished the power of Joyce's writing. The organization of the book seems to be haphazard with ideas coming at the reader from every direction. If any transitions are present, they are surely feeling very lonely.

Stylistic elements aside, this was a fabulous book filled with information on a movement that has, for the most part, remained outside the mainstream West's awareness. I highly recommend it for all readers interested in religion and what is happening under the surface in Christian extremism.

The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood

Read: 2006

Offred is a handmaid in a Christian theocracy existing in what was once the United States. Her function is to produce a child for couples who cannot conceive. She is forbidden from reading and must cover her body at all times. She is valued only as a vessel for a potential heir. Her mind is suppressed, her individuality taken.

With all that has been going on these days about evolution being removed from school curriculums and abstinence-only education, Atwood paints a dismal picture of what is increasingly appearing to be a possible future. Most importantly, perhaps, she posits this world coming from a great disaster (albeit one that leaves most men sterile) and some connections may be made to the terrorist paranoia of recent years.

Atwood is a fantastic writer with an easy-to-read style and multi-layered storytelling. This is one of the aspects I've enjoyed most about her books. It is possible to read them for their surface story, but if interested, there are all sorts of allusions to discover.