Author: HCNewton Page 388 of 632

A little bit ago, I blogged about A Bloody Arrogant Power, and now it’s time for a quick Q&A with the author, Malcolm J. Wardlaw.

Tell us about your road to publication — was your plan/dream always to become a novelist and your education/other jobs were just to get you to this point, or was this a later-in-life desire?

I am a natural-born scribbler. That said, I studied engineering at university (and later business administration) and have spent my working life to date in big-name corporations. Why? Because it has brought me a good living, and the work interested me. My writing has developed rather slowly, and in fits and starts. Being a “pantser” has pros and cons. I finished lots of drafts, but could never work out how to raise them above the level of scribbles. Oddly enough, it was the toughest nightmare of an engineering project that gave me the necessary determination to apply the same relentless force to my writing: to stick at editing and rewriting and rewriting and rewriting until eventually I was closing in on something presentable. It has taken a long time.

I don’t want to ask “where do you get your ideas?” But out of all the ideas floating around in your head, why’d you latch onto this one — what was it about these characters, this idea that drove you to commit months/years to it?

My objective in Sovereigns of the Collapse is to dramatize how the world will settle after systemic financial collapse. The collapse is inherent within the model of debt-fueled infinite growth on a finite planet. However, it proceeds more like a glacier than an avalanche, due to the flexibility of our affable, liberal-democratic traditions. I would judge its starting point as the decoupling of the US dollar from gold in 1971, although you need to look carefully to see the signs. The politics required to avoid final collapse appear so unlikely, at least at present, that I expect it to run its course within my lifetime (I can reasonably expect to live at least to 2050). The resulting world is still orderly, people go about their daily lives, there are Haves and there are Have-nots. The big difference is that the value system of this society is virtually the inverse of ours.

What kinds of research went into the construction of this concept and the world? What was the thing you came across in your planning that you loved, but ultimately couldn’t figure out how to use? (assuming there was one).

I would not say I consciously sat down to complete a research program. This theme has been an obsession for the best part of twenty years. Early drafts failed repeatedly. This stimulated my curiosity. I read more. I imagined more, and this fed my curiosity further. I would describe my “research” as haphazard, but these explorations did eventually identify a series of processes that eventually culminate in the Glorious Resolution.

In the writing of A Bloody Arrogant Power, what was the biggest surprise about the writing itself? Either, “I can’t believe X is so easy!” or “If I had known Y was going to be so hard, I’d have skipped this and watched more TV”.

Definitely the latter. Had I known just how frustrating it would be to shape the story I wanted, I would not have had the courage to sit down and write Page 1. Ignorance served me well! But it was a crucial learning experience. I am now engaged in writing Book 3 of the series (Book 2 The Night of Blind Ambition is now published on Amazon). This has followed several months of free-writing ideas every day, picking out the promising leads and working them further to construct a summary of just a couple of pages. In this way, the writing has a general sense of direction, whilst still leaving plenty of room for white-water scribbling (pantsing). The best ideas I have ever had only came after I consciously threw myself into the unknown. Hopefully I have at last found a sensible balance between writing-by-numbers and pure pants.

What’s the one (or two) book/movie/show in the last 5 years that made you say, “I wish I’d written that.”?

I have never had this feeling. What I will say is this (considering my whole life, not just the last five years). If there is one book that overwhelming impressed me, and inspired me across years of dead ends and futility, it was Nineteen Eighty-Four. Dr Zhivago, One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich and Madame Bovary also deeply impressed me.

Thanks for your time—and thanks for A Bloody Arrogant Power, I enjoyed it, and hope you have plenty of success with it. I’m looking forward to seeing what happens after that ending!

A Bloody Arrogant Power by Malcolm J. Wardlaw: One of the Darkest Dystopias I Remember, with Just a Hint of Light

By HCNewton

On October 24, 2019

In Fiction

A Bloody Arrogant Power

by Malcolm J. Wardlaw
Series: Sovereigns of the Collapse, #1

Kindle Edition, 232 pg.
Plutonic Books Ltd, 2019

Read: October 3-7, 2019

When Wardlaw approached me about reading this book he described it as ” My best effort is to say it is ‘Nineteen Eighty-Four meets Downton Abbey’, although I’m not sure that is really all that helpful.” He’s right—it’s a good effort, and it’s not all that helpful. But it’s close—A Bloody Arrogant Power doesn’t have any of the kind of stories you’d find in Downton, but a dystopian Lady Mary and Mr. Carson could absolutely exist in this world. I’m not sure that’s more helpful than Wardlaw’s pitch, but I think it gets closer.

It’s 2106, and we’re a couple of generations past the societal collapse and the first attempt at rebuilding Western Society—or at least English Society (not really sure what happened in the rest of the world, assuming something did). There are some hints at what led to the economic and political collapse (I think the former precipitated the latter), but what we mostly see are the systems that arose to replace them and how they were designed to ensure the mistakes of the past weren’t repeated (in what’s dubbed “The Glorious Resolution”).

One of the things that developed was the idea that each parcel of land could support X amount of human life. Each year those ruling each territory would have to balance out their resources and the population—eliminating the “surplus” to keep things moving, “discharging them to the public drains.” True to form, to keep people from thinking about this too much, it’s always about the surplus population, never about people, individuals, etc.—no, it’s the dehumanized “surplus.” The most disturbing part of this idea is that the whole of England seems to think this way—it’s not until the last 10% of the book that anyone seems to have a problem with this. I certainly don’t want to suggest that it’s a problem with the book that this is the case, it’s not surprising at all that an entire nation (if not the world) will temporarily buy into a horrible idea to the degree that no one thinks of objecting to it. I can absolutely accept a world where people are officially deemed as “surplus” and disposed of accordingly. In fact, there are those who’ve been warning us about being on that slippery slope. It’s just depressing to see that idea so prevalent. I don’t know if Wardlaw intended readers to fixate on this, but I sure did. It permeated so much of the book and horrified me at each brush with the idea.

On the whole, the infodumps he uses to explain the world to his readers are done very well—he never overwhelms or bogs down the story with them. We get a little here, a little there, scattered throughout. I do think Wardlaw could’ve been a little closer to overwhelming in the beginning—I had to read a little too far into the book before I really had an idea how things worked here (and I’m not convinced I sussed it all out correctly). It’s clear that Wardlaw did a fantastic job creating this world, I just wish he’d done a better job showing it to the reader so we could appreciate it.

The protagonist, Donald Aldingford, is a barrister. He’s not one of the ruling class—but he’s adjacent to it. He gets to see a lot of what goes on behind the scenes in the government and is on the cusp of moving up in society to a position of distinction and honor. Then a few things happen that threaten to derail this.

First, he meets a younger woman who is about as far from privilege as you can get. There’s something about her that appeals to Donald. Secondly, she brings news of his brother. Donald’s spent years pretending he doesn’t exist—in fact, there are few people who are aware Donald has a brother. He’s in legal trouble that seems impossible to fix and there’s a growing chance that this association will become public knowledge and the scandal will probably ruin Donald’s career and family. Thirdly, a reform group is gaining momentum, and there are rumors flying about a Revolution coming.

None of the characters that we spend much time with are in the forefront of the reform party, but they are in the general orbit of that. I like this approach to things, we’re not dealing with Katniss or Tris here—we’re dealing with someone from Katniss’ town, or one of the students that rallied behind Tris—that kind of thing. So we can see what’s going on, but we don’t have to be in the thick of it.

While that’s a nice touch, the characters all could’ve used a little more work. I think it’s largely a space/time issue—there’s so much being established and happening in this book, that Wardlaw doesn’t get a chance to round out the characters—they’re all close (except for the sovereign that Donald spends most of his professional life serving—he might as well be twirling a mustache and tying people to railway tracks), but I never felt like I knew enough about them to care if they survived. It’s an understandable problem given what he set out to accomplish in this book, but it is a problem.

I liked A Bloody Arrogant Power—just not as much as I wanted to. It’s a wonderfully conceived novel—the execution could use a little more work, though. It’s one of the best worlds I can remember (narratively speaking, not literally) in dystopian fiction lately. I expect in future books (there are a couple planned) that Wardlaw won’t have to spend so much time establishing the world/culture and he can just jump into what the characters are doing, who they are and how can they make their way in the world. He sets the stage for some intriguing sequels, too. I really do want to know what happens after the rather abrupt ending and will be watching for the book.

Disclaimer: I received a copy of this novel from the author in exchange for this post, but as always, my opinions remain my own.

Happy Birthday, Archie!

By HCNewton

On October 23, 2019

In Calendar Items, Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller, Nero Wolfe/Archie Goodwin, News/Misc.

My annual tribute to one of my favorite fictional characters (if not my all-time favorite). I’ve got to do an overhaul to this soon, but it is slightly updated and tweaed from last year.

On Oct 23 in Chillicothe, Ohio, Archie Goodwin entered this world—no doubt with a smile for the pretty nurses—and American detective literature was never the same.

I’m toasting him in one of the ways I think he’d appreciate most—by raising a glass of milk in his honor.

Who was Archie? Archie summed up his life thusly:

Born in Ohio. Public high school, pretty good at geometry and football, graduated with honor but no honors. Went to college two weeks, decided it was childish, came to New York and got a job guarding a pier, shot and killed two men and was fired, was recommended to Nero Wolfe for a chore he wanted done, did it, was offered a full-time job by Mr. Wolfe, took it, still have it.” (Fourth of July Picnic)

Long may he keep it. Just what was he employed by Wolfe to do? In The Black Mountain he answers the statement, “I thought you was a private eye” with:

I don’t like the way you say it, but I am. Also I am an accountant, an amanuensis, and a cocklebur. Eight to five you never heard the word amanuensis and you never saw a cocklebur.

In The Red Box, he says

I know pretty well what my field is. Aside from my primary function as the thorn in the seat of Wolfe’s chair to keep him from going to sleep and waking up only for meals, I’m chiefly cut out for two things: to jump and grab something before the other guy can get his paws on it, and to collect pieces of the puzzle for Wolfe to work on.

In Black Orchids, he reacts to an insult:

…her cheap crack about me being a ten-cent Clark Gable, which was ridiculous. He simpers, to begin with, and to end with no one can say I resemble a movie actor, and if they did it would be more apt to be Gary Cooper than Clark Gable.

I’m not the only Archie fan out there:

A few months back, someone pointed me at this post, The Wit and Wisdom of Archie Goodwin. There’s some really good stuff here that I was tempted to steal, instead, I’ll just point you at it.
Robert Crais himself when writing an introduction to a Before Midnight reprint, devoted it to paying tribute to Archie—one of the few pieces of anything written that I can say I agree with jot and tittle.

In case you’re wondering if this post was simply an excuse to go through some collections of Archie Goodwin quotations, you wouldn’t be totally wrong…he’s one of the fictional characters I like spending time with most in this world–he’s the literary equivalent of comfort food. So just a couple more great lines I’ve quoted here before:

I would appreciate it if they would call a halt on all their devoted efforts to find a way to abolish war or eliminate disease or run trains with atoms or extend the span of human life to a couple of centuries, and everybody concentrate for a while on how to wake me up in the morning without my resenting it. It may be that a bevy of beautiful maidens in pure silk yellow very sheer gowns, barefooted, singing “Oh, What a Beautiful Morning” and scattering rose petals over me would do the trick, but I’d have to try it.

I looked at the wall clock. It said two minutes to four. I looked at my wrist watch. It said one minute to four. In spite of the discrepancy it seemed safe to conclude that it would soon be four o’clock.

Description:I shook my head. “You’re flattering me, Inspector. I don’t arouse passions like that. It’s my intellect women like. I inspire them to read good books, but I doubt if I could inspire even Lizzie Borden to murder.”

She turned back to me, graceful as a big cat, and stood there straight and proud, not quite smiling, her warm dark eyes as curious as if she had never seen a man before. I knew damn well I ought to say something, but what? The only thing to say was ‘Will you marry me?’ but that wouldn’t do because the idea of her washing dishes or darning socks was preposterous.

“Indeed,” I said. That was Nero Wolfe’s word, and I never used it except in moments of stress, and it severely annoyed me when I caught myself using it, because when I look in a mirror I prefer to see me as is, with no skin grafted from anybody else’s hide, even Nero Wolfe’s.

If you like Anglo-Saxon, I belched. If you fancy Latin, I eructed. No matter which, I had known that Wolfe and Inspector Cramer would have to put up with it that evening, because that is always a part of my reaction to sauerkraut. I don’t glory in it or go for a record, but neither do I fight it back. I want to be liked just for myself.

When a hippopotamus is peevish it’s a lot of peeve.

It was nothing new for Wolfe to take steps, either on his own, or with one or more of the operatives we used, without burdening my mind with it. His stated reason was that I worked better if I thought it all depended on me. His actual reason was that he loved to have a curtain go up revealing him balancing a live seal on his nose.

It helps a lot, with two people as much together as he and I were, if they understand each other. He understood that I was too strong-minded to add another word unless he told me to, and I understood that he was too pigheaded to tell me to.

I always belong wherever I am.

WWW Wednesday, 23-October-2019

By HCNewton

On October 23, 2019

In Books, Currently Reading, News/Misc., WWW Wednesday

Welcome to WWW Wednesday!

This meme was formerly hosted by MizB at A Daily Rhythm and revived on Taking on a World of Words — and shown to me by Aurore-Anne-Chehoke at Diary-of-a-black-city-girl.

The Three Ws are:

What are you currently reading?
What did you recently finish reading?
What do you think you’ll read next?

Easy enough, right?

What are you currently reading?

Today I started the audiobook of Side Jobs by Jim Butcher and James Marsters (Narrator) and I’m a little over half finished with Taffy Brodesser-Akner’s Fleishman Is in Trouble.

What did you recently finish reading?

Yesterday I finished Open Season by C. J. Box, David Chandler (Narrator) on audio and Monday I finished Because Internet: Understanding the New Rules of Language by Gretchen McCulloch.

What do you think you’ll read next?

My next book will be the eARC of Shattered Bonds by Faith Hunter—I’ve been wanting to dive into this for weeks, but my Book Tour stop is next week, and I would’ve had a hard time putting off talking about it after I read it.

Hit me with your Three W’s in the comments! (no, really, do it!)

In Medias Res: Fleishman Is in Trouble by Taffy Brodesser-Akner

By HCNewton

On October 23, 2019

In Currently Reading, Fiction, General Fiction/Literature, In Medias Res

As the title implies, I’m in the middle of this book, so this is not a review, just some thoughts mid-way through.

—–

Fleishman Is in Trouble

by Taffy Brodesser-Akner

This is going to be a tough one to write about when I finish, unless the last half is significantly different than the first (a possibility I’m open to).

It’s not the writing. The prose is delightful, there are turns of phrase that I’ve stopped to re-read. Brodesser-Akner has a sharp wit and an equally sharp eye for observation/social commentary.

But man, I’m just not enjoying this book at all. I don’t like the protagonist (I admire the lessons he gives his residents at the hospital)—and he’s easily the most likable character in the book. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve almost DNF’d this.

Here’s why I’m sticking with it—I’m curious. Partially to see what the fuss is about (if I can). But more than that, I’m curious about the ending—I’ve heard it’s a killer. And there are two things I want to see where Brodesser-Akner is going with (we might get the answers to all 3 simultaneously). I may not enjoy the book but she’s doing everything right to get me to keep reading. Still, I’m afraid this is going to end up being in The Best of Adam Sharp or The Heart of Henry Quantum territory, however–well-written books that I only remember suffering through.

Has anyone out there read this thing? Any encouragement for me?

Pub Day Post: Famous in Cedarville by Erica Wright: Small Town Life and Hollywood Glamour Collide in this Mystery

By HCNewton

On October 22, 2019

In Fiction, Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller

Famous in Cedarville

by Erica Wright

eARC, 320 pg.
Polis Books, 2019

Read: October 16, 2019

Reading this book made me think of that overused 90’s-era sitcom line: Who are you, and what have you done with Erica Wright? Famous in Cedarville and its protagonist, Samson Delaware are so far removed from Kat Stone and her world, it’s hard to believe they come from the same mind. That said, as much as I want to see more of Kat Stone, if Wright’s going to give us more like this? I won’t complain too loudly.

I’m getting ahead of myself, we should start with the beginning when Samson Delaware joins some fellow citizens of Cedarville, TN to carry the body of Barbara Lace from her home. Lace left her small town home at a young age to pursue fame and fortune in Hollywood. She found it, too—she wasn’t a superstar, she didn’t reach the heights of fame or craft; but she was someone that people all over the country knew. And the only person from Cedarville that anyone not from the area knew was alive. After decades in California, she retired from film and television and basically became a recluse.

Delaware is a carpenter and probably the area’s antiques expert. He appraises pieces, advises buyers, in addition to buying and restoring pieces to sell. While in Lace’s home, he can’t help himself from looking around more than he ought. While it’s nowhere near his expertise, something doesn’t seem right about the scene to him, and he starts to think that Lace didn’t die peacefully in her sleep.

A few days later, Lace’s personal assistant is murdered (no ambiguity about that one), leading Delaware to step up his unofficial investigation—which soon becomes official, as the local authority (note the singular, Cedarville is just that small) and State investigators are both stymied. The sheriff is desperate enough to grant official status to anyone who can help.

Looking into Lace’s murder takes Delaware on a journey through time and space—the key to it has to be in Lace’s past (she saw so few people recently, it has to be in the past). And Lace’s past is in Los Angeles, so Delaware heads out to L.A. to do some footwork and talk to those who knew the actress during her heyday (and after it, too).

Delaware’s own investigation pulls double duty—not only will it hopefully bring the community some answers about their favorite daughter, but it also distracts him from the all-consuming grief following his wife’s death. More than once, he has to wrestle with the question of whether he’s pursuing justice for justice’s sake or if it’s because it helps him not deal with his wife’s death.

As its protagonist looks into a by-gone era of film, the novel takes on the feel and atmosphere of that era while retaining a feeling of fresh and contemporary. Don’t ask me how Wright does that, but it’s great to see it done. Beyond that, there’s a depth to the emotion and characters that you don’t see every day. It’d be easy to argue that Delaware coming to grips (in whatever way he does) to his current state, how he got there and where he’s going is more important to the novel than showing what happened to Lace and her assistant (it’d be easy to argue against it, too, but that’s my point).

I’m not doing a good job describing how different this book comes across—not just from Wright’s previous work, but from most of what’s out there in the genre at the moment. Hopefully, others can articulate it—I’m confident any reader will feel what I’m getting at.

There were two distinct “What the —!?!” moments (there are a few more surprises, but two that you won’t forget soon). One of which, technically, is the result of Wright cheating. But it’s such a cool development and Wright reveals it so deftly that I couldn’t complain. The other one was completely honest and caught me completely flat-footed. Far from clearing everything up, both of these added layers and complexity to this already intricate plot.

A complex mystery, rich characters (I don’t have time to talk about Lace’s long-time agent or the people of Cedarville), a nostalgic yet timely feeling novel that looks to Hollywood’s glamorous past and the very human, very real present. Wright knocks this one out of the park and will earn herself some new fans with this one.

Disclaimer: I received this eARC from Polis Books via NetGalley in exchange for this post—thanks to both for this.

4 Stars

Answer Me This (A Quick Poll)

By HCNewton

On October 21, 2019

In News/Misc.

I’ve been wondering lately, assuming you follow this blog on a semi-regular basis, how do you find out about new posts? If you see this post, and don’t follow this blog, what would you find the most useful?

Hope you participate!

Well, pfui. I guess the poll didn’t get embeded like I thought it would….back to the drawing board.

The Mail I Get. . .An Unexpected Blast from the Past

By HCNewton

On October 21, 2019

In Books, News/Misc.

Imagine my surprise last week when I received this submission from my “You Want Me to Read Your Book?” form (slightly redacted to protect the sender):

I’m not sure this is the wisest thing I’ve ever done. In fact, it seems somewhat irrational, considering you found my last book a bit like chewing on glass [HCN: That’s an exaggeration. Possibly not much of one, but it’s an exaggeration. It was maybe like chewing on kale. Or stale Grape Nuts (which is more glass-like)] Maybe worse, because nothing is as bad as a bad book. But here I am again. Back for more.

Now, I’m not a sadist. I’m actually fairly thinned-skin. I realize, however, that of all my reviews, yours was the one that taught me the most. Getting five, four, or even three-star reviews feels great—but it does little in making me a better writer. Difficult as it was to swallow, your two-star review helped me immensely as a writer. You put your finger on why my book didn’t work and revealed many of the flaws in my writing. It eventually prompted me to go back and release a second edition of the book, one that is hopefully less overwrought and far more accessible than the version you read.

And so, I’m back for more. Because I’m hoping in having you review another book I might continue my growth towards being a better writer. Who knows, maybe, maybe not.

Anyway, I have a second book out… It is much more accessible… I would love to have you read it. Anyway, I hope you’re well. Happy reading,

Now, I have a habit of ignoring emails from authors I don’t give positive reviews to. It’s a habit I forced on myself after one horrible experience with someone I gave a positive review to, but he objected to one point; and an insult-filled rant from another author who didn’t appreciate me calling his pile of trash a pile of trash. If this author’s name had done more than ring a faint bell, I probably would’ve skipped it, too. But I’m very glad I didn’t. This is great to read — not because of what he said about me, but because he found a way to take something he didn’t like said about his work and turn it into a positive. Would that we all could do that.

Of course, I’m going to say yes to this. How can I do otherwise?

The Dead Don’t Sleep by Steven Max Russo: No need to teach these old dogs any new tricks

By HCNewton

On October 21, 2019

In Fiction, Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller

The Dead Dont Sleep

by Steven Max Russo

eARC, 292 pg.
Down & Out Books, 2019

Read: October 11-14, 2019

This is one of those thrillers that within a chapter or three, you know pretty much how things are going to go for the rest of the book. That’s me being descriptive, not evaluating anything. There’s nothing wrong with this type of thriller—the fun is in seeing the author execute what you know (and think you know) is coming, and just what kind of surprise is in store for the ending. It’s like playing Mousetrap—everyone knows what’s going to happen when you start the machine going, it’s still fun to watch (see also almost every functional Rube Goldberg machine).

That said, there was one death/serious injury that I predicted at least three different times in my notes (one “he” was ambiguous, I really need to be more specific) that didn’t happen and another that I fully expected that didn’t materialize. So I’m not saying that Russo didn’t have any tricks up his sleeve—there were more than those, too. It’s just that on the whole, you know what this book is going to give you pretty soon (see also: just about every Jack Reacher novel).

So what is this set up?

Frank Thompson’s wife died pretty recently, and he’s not dealing well with the loss. After holing up by himself for a while, he visits a nephew (Bill) in New Jersey—really, his first social contact after her death. Frank’s getting up in years himself, but he’s doing pretty well, all things considered.

Frank and Bill go to the shooting range one day. While there, someone confronts Frank, claiming they know each other—Frank pleads ignorance (a white lie), but the stranger soon figures out who he is. They knew each other back in Vietnam while part of a special combat unit. The stranger (Jasper) and his friends are convinced that Frank did a bad thing to one of their own back in ‘Nam. Frank wouldn’t argue with them, but they all were involved in doing very bad things (as they were ordered to), he’d add. Besides, that was a lifetime ago, and he, Jasper and the rest of the unit have all moved on to civilian life and put those atrocities behind them.

If that were true, this would be a much shorter book. Thankfully for us readers, Jasper and his friends carry a grudge. Two of them—Birdie and Pogo (no, really)—are nearby and available. So after Frank goes home to his house on the outskirts of a small Maine town, the three of them head up to pay him a visit. And it ain’t a social call.

Frank knows that Jasper and others (no idea how many others) are coming, and takes steps to prepare. And then the fecal matter hits the rotary impeller.

That’s a little more long-winded than I’d intended, but I haven’t given too much away. So basically, you’ve got 4 septuagenarians carrying small arsenals in the Maine woods drawing on the training they all received decades ago (one or two of them may have been keeping those skills sharp, but that’s beside the point). None of these guys are in their prime anymore, and more than once I wondered if natural causes would beat an act of violence to the punch (I won’t say if I was right).

Don’t go thinking that this is any kind of comic novel—it’s not Grumpy Old Men III: Locked and Loaded, these are hard men doing violent things. After the trio arrives in Maine, the questions that need to be answered are: how many of these four are going to walk away from this showdown, and what kind of collateral damage will there be?

Not all the characters are as well-rounded as they could be, but they’re all close enough that no one’s going to complain—especially when the action kicks in. You can’t say there are really good guys or bad guys here. Well, that’s not true—there are bad guys and some less-bad guys. No one wears a white hat in this book (at least not those at the center of the action), the hats are all black or dark gray.

This next paragraph contains a spoiler—or something spoiler-adjacent. Feel free to skip it and move on.
There’s a [insert your own Latin-y word here] ex machina element to the last action scene of this novel. I don’t think it was necessary (they almost never are), and a resolution was still possible that would’ve satisfied novels without it. The more that I think about it, what that element means for Frank’s world is pretty disturbing—more than anything else that happened in the book, really. As I write this, it occurs to me that if there’s a sequel, this element is likely going to play a central role, and I’ll retract the last 97 words. Still, I’d have liked to have seen things play out without the ex machina. But that could just be me.
Back to the no-spoiler zone:

This is the kind of thing that should appeal to fans of Gregg Hurwitz, Brad Meltzer, Joseph Finder or others in that vein. The pacing is tight, the action scenes are well-handled, and the tension is real. This is a great way to spend a couple of hours with some good escapist reading. It’s possible (probable?) for Russo to return to the survivors for a sequel—if he does, I’ll be at the front of the line for it.

Disclaimer: I received this eARC from Down & Out Books via NetGalley in exchange for this post—thanks to both for this ride.

3.5 Stars

Theological Retrieval for Evangelicals by Gavin Ortlund: An Accessible Call for 21st Century Christians to Learn from the Past

By HCNewton

On October 20, 2019

In Theology/Christian Living

I ended up having more time in the day to write this post than I normally do, and as a result ended up a bit more rambling and less-focused than intended. Hopefully it’s worth the read, despite my laxness.

Theological Retrieval for Evangelicals: Why We Need Our Past to Have a Future

by Gavin Ortlund

eARC, 224 pg.
Crossway, 2019

Read: October 5-12, 2019

This is another one of those theological works that I feel really unqualified to discuss. There’s part of me that thinks I should stop requesting them from NetGalley, or buying them and deciding that I want to post about them, but I probably won’t. So, know that this is from the perspective of an opinionated and semi-(formally)educated reader and occasional armchair theologian. Not the reflections of an ordained minister or professional theologian.

I’m glad Ortlund talks about this right out of the gate—but the case he lays out for Theological Retrieval here, strikes me as very similar to Michael Allen and Scott R. Swain’s Reformed Catholicity: The Promise of Retrieval for Theology and Biblical Interpretation and Kevin J. Vanhoozer’s Biblical Authority after Babel: Retrieving the Solas in the Spirit of Mere Protestant Christianity. Ortlund says they’re aiming for the same target, but those works are more oriented toward the Reformed, where he’s focused on Evangelicalism. I’d say that they’re all wanting the same thing, but his work is more accessible (by design) and less-inclined to advertise his scholarly awareness (particularly with the former).

One problem that you encounter right away is a nebulousness about the term “Evangelical.” If Ortlund defined his usage, I missed it. He seems to use it to apply to Bible-believing Protestants who aren’t Reformed or Lutheran. Which is fair enough, I guess, it’s just not an easily defined term anymore. Frankly, I’m with Carl Trueman and others, and consider the label “evangelicalism” meaningless as it can be applied to “everyone from Joel Osteen to Brian McLaren to John MacArthur.”

Ortlund doesn’t give a strict definition of Theological Retrieval—in fact, he avoids it, preferring to see it as a mindset or attitude toward the pre-Reformation Church and Theology, drawing from its strengths, seeing its weaknesses in our own, and putting the contemporary (and Reformation) Church in context of a developing understanding from the end of Acts to Second Coming. Given that, we should be more aware of, and interact more with, the Patristic and Medieval Church. He uses Turretin, in particular, to great benefit in showing that this was the mindset of the Protestant Reformation, and calls us back to it. Along the way, he uses Warfield (and the rest of Old Princeton) as emblematic of Evangelicalism’s departure from this thinking. I’m not sure that’s the best reading of Warfield, but it’s not worth arguing, because his overall point is so right.

The first Part of the book—roughly 60 pages in three chapters—sets the agenda, it’s “A Manifesto for Theological Retrieval.” He begins by asking if Evangelicals can Retrieve Patristic and Medieval Theology, before moving to asking why they need it, and then sketching out both the benefits and perils of it. All of which is profitable and well-worth reading.

But what makes this book different than so many, is that Ortlund doesn’t focus on the project, the theory behind it, or the method. He gives the rest of the book—120 pages or so—to examples of what he’s calling for people to do. Case-studies in theological retrieval—which is some of the best theological reading I’ve done this year, maybe the last couple of years.

The first is a chapter called “Explorations in a Theological Metaphor: Boethius, Calvin, and Torrance on the Creator/ Creation Distinction.” A nice mouthful, to be sure. To illustrate the Creator/Creature Distinction, he compares Tolkein’s relationship to The Lord of the Rings to God’s relationship to his creation, in terms of Boethius’ understanding, and how Calvin’s view would differ, before wrapping up with Torrance. Now, I have little use for what he tries to do with Tolkein—I think this sort of thing is almost as bad as trying to teach the Trinity by analogy (which always quickly lands the teacher in heresy). I know enough people do this sort of thing in teaching and writing, and I should try to pay more attention, but my eyes just glazed over. Most readers will get more out of this than I did. I did appreciate what he said about Boethius and Torrance in distinction from Calvin and feel like I understand the three a little better (not that I’m all that familiar with Boethius and Torrance), and think I got something from the chapter overall, but I know my own prejudices kept me from a full appreciation.

Things improve with “God Is Not a Thing: Divine Simplicity in Patristic and Medieval Perspective.” Rather than going head-on for contemporary critics of the doctrine, he takes a look at historic formulations (not limited to Aquinas’) of the doctrine and seeing how that should actually deepen Evangelical’s commitment to Simplicity as well as broaden our understanding of it. He interacts a good deal with James Dolezal’s wonderful All That Is in God and God without Parts here and reminds me that I need to re-read the former and read the latter. A better blogger (one also focused on theology, not the book) would camp out here for a few paragraphs, but I won’t. It’s just a great chapter and the kind of thing we need to see more of.

My favorite case study is the third, “Substitution as Both Satisfaction and Recapitulation: Atonement Themes in Convergence in Irenaeus, Anselm, and Athanasius.” I would read a book-length version of this tomorrow. Well, not tomorrow. I would start a book-length version of this tomorrow, and have a lot of fun over the following days. Ortlund shows the overlapping concerns of Irenaeus and Anselm (who are so often pitted against each other), how the Christus Victor and Substitutionary Atonement models are interdependent, not rivals (while not giving an inch to contemporary critics of Substitutionary Atonement, it should be pointed out). From there, he moves onto some of Athanasius’ work on the Incarnation, demonstrating that these works have a good deal to say about the Atonement, as well. If I got nothing else out of this book, I’d consider the time I spent reading it well-spent just for this chapter. I could’ve lived without the use of Aslan and the Stone Table portion of the study, but (contra the Tolkein), it proved to be a useful illustration.

“Cultivating Skill in the “Art of Arts”: Pastoral Balance in Gregory the Great’s The Book of Pastoral Rule” is the last case study. I remember reading healthy portions of this work by Gregory in a Church History class for much the same reason that Ortlund uses it. There’s a lot of wisdom for pastors of every age in this very old work—he also shows how manuals like Baxter’s or Spurgeon’s will say similar things. Timeless truths and advice put in ways that others wouldn’t. I really don’t have much to say about this, but it’s almost as good as the previous two.

This is one of the most-easily outlined books I’ve read this year (possibly the most), that’s a fantastic aid for referring back to it in the future or for going back and taking thorough notes. I’d go crazy if I read too many books like this, I prefer the more organic feeling approach. But when this is done right, it’s a handy bonus. Beyond that, as I said before, it’s very accessible. Sure, there are parts that are demanding, but nothing’s out of reach for the committed and attentive reader—and most of the time you don’t have to be that committed.

Like their counterparts from the previous century, Twenty-First Century Christians don’t know enough historical doctrine, and certainly don’t know how to treat what little they do know. Too often, Protestants will cede everything prior to 1517 to Rome (maybe Rome and the East), focusing only on the last 500 years—if they’ll even pay attention to anything prior to Fanny J. Crosby. Ortlund’s work is a great call for the everyday Christian to familiarize themselves with the past and learn from them as we ought the rest of the Church Militant. I strongly recommend this.

Disclaimer: I received this eARC from Crossway via NetGalley in exchange for this post—thanks to both for this stimulating read.

4 Stars