Books!!!

I found this over at Whispers Of the Wind ( http://arries-whispersofthewind.blogspot.com ) and thought it looked like fun!

1. Favorite childhood book/s?

The Archives of Anthropos by John White.  Or else The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis.

2. What are you reading right now?

Magic for Marigold, by L.M. Montgomery, and The Doula Book, by Klaus, Kennell, and Klaus.

3. What books do you have on request at the library?

Homebirth: The Essential Guide to giving Birth outside the Hospital, by Sheila Kitzinger.

4. What do you currently have checked out at the library?

Nothing currently…I own too many books I need to read while waiting for the one I have requested.

5. Do you have an e-reader?

No.

6. Do you prefer to read one book at a time, or several at once?

Up to three, depending on what they are.  One non-fiction, one fiction, and maybe one history thrown in there.

7. Can you read on the bus?

I have never tried!  I can read in a car though.

8. Favorite place to read?

I have a comfy chair in my room…

9. Do you ever dog-ear books?

No!  Many of my books are very, very old, and if I tried to dog-ear them, the corner would break off.  I use bookmarks, or remember where I was.

10. Do you ever write in the margins of your books?

No.

11. What makes you love a book?

I must be able to identify with and respect the characters.  They must have hearts and souls, and yet act in a way that I can put myself in their place.  And usually there is some sort of redemption story, or noble sacrifice made by one to save others.

12. What will inspire you to recommend a book?

If I feel that not only did it hold my interest, but I took something away, gleaned something, am better for the reading of it.

13. Favorite genre?

History and Historical Fiction, as long as it’s not fiction trying to pretend it’s historical by taking modernized people and sticking them a few hundred years back.

14. How do you feel about giving bad/negative reviews?

If a book just does not hold my interest, I will probably forget about it before I could tell someone not to read it.  Only if I take strong issue with a book, and am filled with indignation that someone would dare write such a thing, will I tell everyone I know not to read it.

15. Favorite Poet?

Longfellow…I know there are others but they escape my memory at the moment.

16. How many books do you usually have checked out of the library at any given time?

One or two, although once I reserved a record 50.  My mom told me never to do so again. J

17. How often have you returned books to the library unread?

Rarely.  On occasion I will just flip through the book, but that is usually if it is an instruction manual, with lots of pictures.

18. Favorite fictional character?

Mary Barton.  Or Molly, from Wives and Daughters.  Or Helen, from the book of that name by Maria Edgeworth…Although I must say, Louisa May Alcott’s Rose Campbell and Polly from an Old Fashioned Girl are up there…With Sir Percy Blakeney (we are talking about books here) .  When I first started to read the Chronicles of Narnia, Susan was my favorite because she had dark hair that went down to her feet…but then when I got to The Last Battle and heard how she’d strayed, she plunged down in the ranks.

19. Favorite fictional villain?

Citoyen Chauvelin! Shagah and Hocoino, The Goblin Prince, and the Mystery of Abomination from the Archives of Anthropos!

20. Books I’m most likely to bring on vacation?

Whatever I haven’t read in a while and can delude myself into thinking I’ll have time to read.

21. The longest I’ve gone without reading.

An actual physical book? I have no idea.  A few weeks maybe?

22. Name a book that you could/would not finish.

A Southern Woman of Letters.  It’s supposed to be a collection of letters written by Augusta Jane Evans Wilson, but I read only the introduction, in which they twist every known fact about her to try and make her sound as evil (or what they would consider good) as possible. I could no longer bear their commentary and haven’t picked it up since.

23. What distracts you easily when you’re reading?

Once I’m settled down and have read a bit, not much, unless I’m really tired or have something else I need to do that I keep thinking about.

24. Favorite film adaptation of a novel?

I don’t like it when they make movies of books.  They should come up with their own stories instead of stealing other peoples.  However, some of the older versions of the Jane Austen films are not too bad and stick to the books pretty well.

25. Most disappointing film adaptation?

The Sound of Music.  Read The Von Trapp Family Singers by Maria Von Trapp, and you will find that the only things they kept the same were her name, the genders of the children, and the fact that she ends up marrying the captian.

26. What would cause you to stop reading a book half-way through?

Not being too interested in it and having other things keeping me busy, or righteous indignation at what is written therin.

27. Do you like to keep your books organized?

 I am a very organized person.  People laugh because I am not able to achieve anywhere near a level of organization most of the time, but my books are the one thing that is perfectly organized.  By Author, time it was written, series, and topic.  Each book has a specific spot.  It must be there or I am bothered by it.  I can always tell when someone has borrowed a book, and what it was.

28. Do you prefer to keep books or give them away once you’ve read them?

I collect books.  I couldn’t bear to give them away.  Even if I have duplicates.  I can hardly bear to buy someone a book, even if I got it specifically for them, because I am sorely tempted to keep it.

A passionate dedication...

This dedication is found in the front of the book entitled, "Inez, or, A Tale of The Alamo" by Augusta Jane Evans Wilson.   This was her first book.

To

The Texan Patriots

who triumphantly unfurled and waved aloft the

"Banner of the Lone Star!" Who wrenched asunder

the iron bands of despotic Mexico! And

wreathed the brow of the "Queen State!"

with the glorious chaplet of "Civil

and Religious Liberty!"

This Work is respectfully Dedicated

by the author.

It isn't often I find a dedication as stirring as this.

St. Elmo Murray's Ordination

   It was a beautiful Sabbath morning, just one year after Edna's departure from the parsonage, and the church was crowded to its utmost capacity, for people had come for many miles around, to witness a ceremony the announcement of which, had given rise to universal comment.  As the hour approached for the ordination of St. Elmo Murray to the ministry of Jesus Christ even the doors were filled with curious spectators; and when Mr. Hammond and St. Elmo walked down the aisle, and the old man seated himself in a chair within the altar, there was a general stir in the congregation.
   The officiating minster had come from a distant city to perform a ceremony of more than usual interest; and when he stood up in the pulpit, and the organ thundered through the arches, St. Elmo bowed his head on his hand, and sat thus during the hour that ensued.
  The ordination sermon was solemn and eloquent, and preached from the text in Romans:
   "For when ye were the servants of sin, ye were free from righteousness.  But now being made free from sin, and become servants to God, ye have your fruit unto holiness, and the end everlasting life."
   Then the minister, having finished his discourse, came down into the altar and commenced the services; but Mr. Murray sat motionless, with his countenance concealed by his hand.  Mr. Hammond approached and touched him, and, as he rose, led him to the altar, and presented him a a candidate for ordination.
   There, before the shining marble pulpit which he had planned and built in the early years of his life, for the idol of his youth, stood St. Elmo; and the congregation, especially those of his native village, looked with involuntary admiration and pride at the erect, powerful form, clad in its suit of black--at the nobly-proportioned head, where gray locks were visible.
   "But if there be any of you who knoweth any impediment or crime, for the which he ought not to be received into this holy ministry, let him come forth, in the name of God, and show what the crime or impediment is."
   The preacher paused, the echo of his words died away, and perfect silence reigned.  Suddenly St. Elmo raised his eyes from the railing of the altar, and turning his face slightly, looked through the eastern window at the ivy-draped vault where slept Murray and Annie.  The world was silent, but conscience and the dead accused him.  An expression of intolerable anguish crossed his handsome features, then his hands folded themselves tightly together on the top of the marble balustrade, and he looked appealingly up to the pale Jesus staggering under his cross.
   At that instant a spotless white pigeon from the belfry, found its way into the church through the open doors, circled once around the building, fluttered against the windows,  hiding momentarily the crown of thorns, and, frightened and confused, fell upon the fluted pillar of the pulpit.
   An electric thrill ran through the congregation; and as the minister resumed the services, he saw on St. Elmo's face a light, a great joy, such as human countenances rarely wear this side the grave.
   When Mr. Murray knelt and the ordaining hands were laid upon his head, a sob was heard from the pew where his mother sat, and the voice of the preacher faltered as he delivered the Bible to the kneeling man, saying:
   "Take thou authority to preach the word of God, and to administer the holy sacraments in the congregation."
    There were no dry eyes in the entire assembly, save two that looked out, coldly blue, from the pew where Mrs. Powell sat like a statue, between her daughter and Gordon Leigh. 
   Mr. Hammond tottered across the altar, and knelt down close to Mr. Murray; and many who knew the history of the pastor's family, wept as the gray head fell on the broad shoulder of St. Elmo, whose arm was thrown around the old man's form, and the ordaining minister, with tears rolling over his face, extended his hands in benediction above them.
   "The peace of God, which passeth all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in the knowledge and love of God, and of His Son Jesus Christ our Lord; and the blessing of God Almighty, and the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, be among you, and remain with you alway."
   And all hearts and lips present whispered "Amen!" and the organ and the choir broke forth in a grand "Gloria in excelsis."
   Standing there at the chancel, purified, consecrated henceforth unreservedly to Christ, Mr. Murray looked so happy, so noble, so worthy of his high calling, that his proud, fond mother thought his face was fit for an archangel's wings.
   Many persons who had known him in his boyhood, came up with tears in their eyes, and wrung his hand silently.  At last Huldah pointed to the white pigeon, that was now beating its wings against the gilded pipes of the organ, and said, in that singularly sweet, solemn, hesitating tone, with which children approach sacred things:
   "Oh Mr. Murray! when it fell on the pulpit, it nearly took my breath away, for I almost thought it was the Holy Ghost."
   Tears, which till then he had kept bravely back, dripped over his face, as he stooped and whispered to the little orphan:
   "Huldah the Holy Spirit the Comforter, came indeed; but it was not visible, it is here in my heart."
   The congregation dispersed.  Mrs. Murray and the preacher and Huldah went to the carriage; and, leaning on Mr. Murray's arm, Mr. Hammond turned to follow, but observing that the church was empty, the former said:
  "After a little, I will come."
   The old man walked on, and Mr. Murray went back and knelt, resting his head against the beautiful glittering balustrade, within which he hoped to officiate through the remaining years of his earthly career.
   Once the sexton, who was waiting to lock up the church, looked in, saw the man praying alone there at the altar, and softly stole away.

...from St. Elmo, by Augusta Jane Evans Wilson

I think that this is one of the most moving scenes in the entire book.  Everyone should read St. Elmo and any other books by Augusta Jane Evans Wilson that they can get their hands on.  Some day, I would like to witness an ordination.  Not as eventful, nor as dramatic a redemption story as the one portrayed here probably, but I think it must be a beautiful and solemn thing.

Disclaimer:  I do not neccesarily condone the appearance of, decoration choices, and so on of the church herein described.  The authoress is describing an Episcopal church and while I certainly believe that one could be a true Christian and attend a church such as is described, but I would certainly suggest some changes.  

Vigilance in Writing

"It seems, however, no very easy task to write for children. Those only who have been interested in the education of a family, who have patiently followed children through the first processes of reasoning, who have daily watched over their thoughts and feelings--those only who know with what ease and rapidity the early association of ideas are formed, on which the future taste, character and happiness depend, can feel the dangers and difficulties of such an undertaking." (Maria Edgeworth, in the preface to The Parent's Assistant, 1800)




"It has been somewhere said by Johnson, that merely to invent a story is no small effort of the human understanding. How much more difficult is it to construct stories suited to the early years of youth, and, at the same time, conformable to the complicate relations of modern society--fictions, that shall display examples of virtue, without initiating the young reader into the ways of vice--narratives, written in a style level to his capacity, without tedious detail, or vulgar idiom! The author, sensible of these difficulties, solicits indulgence for such errors as have escaped her vigilance.

"In a former work the author has endeavored to add something to the increasing stock of innocent amusement and early instruction, which the laudable exertions of some excellent modern writers provide for the rising generation; and, in the present, an attempt is made to provide for young people, of a more advanced age, a few tales, that shall neither dissipate the attention, nor inflame the imagination." (Richard Edgeworth {Maria Edgeworth's father}, in the preface to Moral Tales, 1801)



"Her regular contributions to the magazine enhanced her reputation, and broadened the sphere of her usefulness.

Profoundly impressed by the conviction that she held her talent in trust, she worked steadily, looking neither to the right nor left, but keeping her eyes fixed upon that day when she would be called to render an account to Him, who would demand His own with interest. Instead of becoming flushed with success, she grew daily more cautious, more timid, lest inadvertence or haste should betray her into errors.

...Ruthlessly she assaulted the darling follies, the pet, velvet-masked vices that society had adopted,...demanding that men and women should pause and reflect in their mad career. Because she was earnest and not bitter,...because her rebukes were free from scorn, and written rather in tears than gall, people turned their heads and stopped to listen.

...Edna was consious of the influence she exerted, and ceaselessly she prayed that she might wield it aright. ...Day by day she weighed more carefully all that fell from her pen, dreading lest some error might creep into her writings and lead others astray." (Augusta Jane Evans Wilson, St. Elmo, 1910)
 
*repost*

Vigilance in Writing

"It seems, however, no very easy task to write for children. Those only who have been interested in the education of a family, who have patiently followed children through the first processes of reasoning, who have daily watched over their thoughts and feelings--those only who know with what ease and rapidity the early association of ideas are formed, on which the future taste, character and happiness depend, can feel the dangers and difficulties of such an undertaking." (Maria Edgeworth, in the preface to The Parent's Assistant, 1800)

"It has been somewhere said by Johnson, that merely to invent a story is no small effort of the human understanding. How much more difficult is it to construct stories suited to the early years of youth, and, at the same time, conformable to the complicate relations of modern society--fictions, that shall display examples of virtue, without initiating the young reader into the ways of vice--narratives, written in a style level to his capacity, without tedious detail, or vulgar idiom! The author, sensible of these difficulties, solicits indulgence for such errors as have escaped her vigilance.
"In a former work the author has endeavored to add something to the increasing stock of innocent amusement and early instruction, which the laudable exertions of some excellent modern writers provide for the rising generation; and, in the present, an attempt is made to provide for young people, of a more advanced age, a few tales, that shall neither dissipate the attention, nor inflame the imagination." (Richard Edgeworth {Maria Edgeworth's father}, in the preface to Moral Tales, 1801)

"Her regular contributions to the magazine enhanced her reputation, and broadened the sphere of her usefulness.
Profoundly impressed by the conviction that she held her talent in trust, she worked steadily, looking neither to the right nor left, but keeping her eyes fixed upon that day when she would be called to render an account to Him, who would demand His own with interest. Instead of becoming flushed with success, she grew daily more cautious, more timid, lest inadvertence or haste should betray her into errors.
...Ruthlessly she assaulted the darling follies, the pet, velvet-masked vices that society had adopted,...demanding that men and women should pause and reflect in their mad career. Because she was earnest and not bitter,...because her rebukes were free from scorn, and written rather in tears than gall, people turned their heads and stopped to listen.
...Edna was consious of the influence she exerted, and ceaselessly she prayed that she might wield it aright. ...Day by day she weighed more carefully all that fell from her pen, dreading lest some error might creep into her writings and lead others astray." (Augusta Jane Evans Wilson, St. Elmo, 1910)