Other good humans may find inspiration in these humanist homilies.
An essayist muses on faith and fatherhood.
As the title suggests, Smith (Beasts and Men, 2013) writes often of communion, though in an expansive sense that is not specifically religious nor narrowly Christian. Of hiking with his son, he writes, “[h]ere is my communion, the intersection of this beauty and the pulse and awareness that is mine alone. Here waits a brand of grace I seldom achieve in the workaday world—the sublime recognition of a moment’s happiness.” Neither the style nor the tone varies much within these essays, with diction that is straightforward and precise and a placidity that rarely expresses torment or achieves transcendence. Most of the pieces concern a father’s relationship with his son—never named (nor is his wife, generally a bit player)—and they read like secular sermons. The author writes often of faith but is not a believer; he experiences value from prayer without knowing to whom or what he prays; he reads the Bible as literature and because so many others find inspiration in it. He teaches troubled students at a secondary school, where he sees colleagues retire or die, and he ponders his own mortality and the inevitability that the bond he feels with his son will loosen. In preparing to speak at a close friend’s funeral, he writes, “I am not a poet, but this morning I feel the poet’s burden of weighing each word before committing it to the final draft.” As plainspoken as the writing is, it seems to share that burden, of the dutiful, decent man who has revised any spontaneity or unreflective emotion out of his work. Of another hike with his son, he writes, “[w]e will talk about anything he wants, and when he asks his questions, I will answer honestly. I will provide a mirror in which he can see himself clearly. I will do my best to be a good human for him.”
Other good humans may find inspiration in these humanist homilies.Pub Date: April 30, 2015
ISBN: 978-0-9910657-3-8
Page Count: 156
Publisher: Dock Street Press
Review Posted Online: Jan. 7, 2015
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Jan. 15, 2015
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
This is not the Nutcracker sweet, as passed on by Tchaikovsky and Marius Petipa. No, this is the original Hoffmann tale of 1816, in which the froth of Christmas revelry occasionally parts to let the dark underside of childhood fantasies and fears peek through. The boundaries between dream and reality fade, just as Godfather Drosselmeier, the Nutcracker's creator, is seen as alternately sinister and jolly. And Italian artist Roberto Innocenti gives an errily realistic air to Marie's dreams, in richly detailed illustrations touched by a mysterious light. A beautiful version of this classic tale, which will captivate adults and children alike. (Nutcracker; $35.00; Oct. 28, 1996; 136 pp.; 0-15-100227-4)
Pub Date: Oct. 28, 1996
ISBN: 0-15-100227-4
Page Count: 136
Publisher: Harcourt
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Aug. 15, 1996
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
Stricter than, say, Bergen Evans or W3 ("disinterested" means impartial — period), Strunk is in the last analysis...
Privately published by Strunk of Cornell in 1918 and revised by his student E. B. White in 1959, that "little book" is back again with more White updatings.
Stricter than, say, Bergen Evans or W3 ("disinterested" means impartial — period), Strunk is in the last analysis (whoops — "A bankrupt expression") a unique guide (which means "without like or equal").Pub Date: May 15, 1972
ISBN: 0205632645
Page Count: 105
Publisher: Macmillan
Review Posted Online: Oct. 28, 2011
Kirkus Reviews Issue: May 1, 1972
© Copyright 2025 Kirkus Media LLC. All Rights Reserved.
Follow
Popular in this Genre
We can’t wait for you to join Kirkus!
It’s free and takes less than 10 seconds!
Already have an account? Log in.
OR
Sign in with GoogleTrouble signing in? Retrieve credentials.
Welcome Back!
OR
Sign in with GoogleTrouble signing in? Retrieve credentials.
