The Proprietor’s Favorite Books of 2007
Some of the best books I read this year, in no particular order.
The Road, Cormac McCarthy
I read McCarthy’s All the Pretty Horses earlier this year and was wrecked by it, and this was no different. Don’t be thrown by the fact that it’s an Oprah pick–this is no ladies’ luncheon read. It’s apocalyptic, eerie, and almost unbearably sad, but with an ending that more than makes up for it.
A Sacred Sorrow, Michael Card
Michael has become a good friend, but that’s not why I recommend this. His last album, The Hidden Face of God was a record about lament, and he paid me the biggest honor one songwriter can pay another by recording one of my songs for it (”The Silence of God”). I traveled with Michael several times last year, and each night while he taught the audience about the lost language of lament, I hung on every word. I felt the same way when I read this book. One of my favorite Card quotes: “Nowhere in all of scripture does God ever say, ‘How dare you talk to me like that.’” He can handle our complaints, and our tears are the pathway to worship. Look for this one in the Rabbit Room store later this year (I hope).
Gilead, Marilynne Robinson
Not just one of my favorite books of the year, but of my life. Thanks to Jonathan Rogers for the hearty recommendation over a cheeseburger at lunch. For a fuller discussion, read the Rabbit Room review here.
Devil in the White City, Erik Larson
One part fascinating history of one of my favorite cities (Chicago) and one part murder mystery. I have worn the Captains Courageous out talking about this book. I’m a fan of creative nonfiction (books like The Perfect Storm, Into the Wild, Under the Banner of Heaven), and this is one of the best I’ve read. I just finished another Erik Larson book, Thunderstruck, which I also really liked.
Window Poems, Wendell Berry
I’m not one for poetry. I know I’m supposed to like it, but it usually leaves me wondering what the big deal is. I’m a fan of Tennyson and, of course, the poet laureate of my generation, Shel Silverstein. Because of my affection for his novels, I took to reading Berry’s poems on airplanes, and occasionally on the front porch here at the Warren. I learned that you can’t breeze through a poem and expect to get it. You have to read it aloud, and you have to read it more than once. Better yet, memorize it. Window Poems looks and feels like a book of Wendell Berry poems should. It’s illustrated, the poems aren’t dense or abstruse, so it’s the perfect short book of poems for a person who doesn’t get poetry. Best read in the woods with a pipe.
The Father Brown Omnibus, G.K. Chesterton
Another gift from Jason Gray. The book is old and is about four inches thick. It smells like a used book store, which next to pot roast is the best smell on earth. If you have a hankering for the crime-ridden, cobbled streets of foggy London, then let the priest/detective Father Brown be your guide. Chesterton spins a great story, and he surprises with glimmers of wisdom that make me feel like the kind old gentleman is winking at me through his monocle.
No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency, Alexander McCall Smith
More detective goodness from Jason Gray. I razzed him about this one because it sounds like another one of those Oprah books. But I read this one and the next one in quick succession. They’re short reads, charming, wholesome, and again, full of wisdom.
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, J.K. Rowling
This one has been discussed here too. Rowling’s over-blabbing about the books notwithstanding, I still think this epic story will stand the test of time. I read the first Harry Potter book before it was controversial or cool to read Harry Potter, and I looked eagerly forward to each next episode, wondering all the while what all the fuss from the church was about. Having now written the first of a fantasy series, I’m all the more amazed by Rowling’s gift. It’s not an easy thing to do, writing a book–let alone writing a book knowing that literally millions of people will be reading it, griping about it, scrutinizing it, demonizing it, or over-spiritualizing it. The real feat was that she pulled it off. The last book wasn’t perfect, but the finale was for me extremely satisfying. Read the Rabbit Room discussion here. And you can read the post Outing Dumbledore here.
Life of Pi, Yann Martel
Another great story. Read the Rabbit Room discussion here.
The Kite Runner, Khaled Hosseini
I didn’t want to read this one. It was hard for me to get excited about kites in Afghanistan. Needless to say, that’s not what the book was about, really. I hope you find time to read this before you see the movie. I’m doubtful that the story will translate well to film, as I’m doubtful about most such adaptations.
The Dangerous Book for Boys, Conn and Hal Iggulden
I bought this for my sons, and they have since learned how to make a paper airplane that flies way farther than any of the ones I made out of old church bulletins when I was a kid. They also know how to make real arrows, how to play poker (but don’t tell their mom), and how to build a tree house. I wish I’d had this when I was a kid.
Reaching for the Invisible God, Philip Yancey
Really good book. I got two song ideas from it for the new record (All Things New and Invisible God). Much obliged, Yancey.
Orthodoxy, G.K. Chesterton
I don’t even know what to say about this one. I’m pretty sure I read it last year, but it was so earth-shaking I had to include it. It begs to be read more than once. Not five minutes after I read the last page I started over, partly because the ideas are so rich they need to be read again, and partly because the prose is so stirring. Like The Great Divorce by Lewis, it’s a great book with a lame title. Don’t be thrown off by it. Chesterton and Lewis were both masters at making complex ideas easy for us boneheads.
A.S. Peterson has crafted a work of compelling historical fiction which begs the question, “Can this really be a debut novel?” With dogged fidelity, Peterson captures the spirit, manners, and social conditions present during the American Revolutionary War. We meet colorful, credible characters who navigate the high seas of life and love, dependence and independence, war and peace, truth and consequence, and despite forays into dark places, The Fiddler’s Gun is beautiful, lyrical, and redemptive.
Walt Wangerin, Jr. strikes again.
Janner Igiby lives in Glipwood, a nothing little village in the land of Skree, on the edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness. Manhood is on the horizon, but Janner finds it hard to feel much hope for the future. Skree is ruled by foreign oppressors, snake men called the Fangs of Dang, servants of a shadowy emperor named Gnag the Nameless. The Skreeans are weak and weaponless. They’re even tool-less. Any Skreean who needs to use a hoe has to borrow one from the Fangs (and fill out the requisite paperwork). And from time to time, the Black Carriage arrives in Glipwood to carry young Skreeans toward an unknown fate across the Dark Sea.
I am not a fan of Civil War literature; in fact, I have always thought of it as one of those weird sub-genres for obsessive types. They’re almost like Trekkies with their re-enactments and maniacal devotion to detail. It’s just not my thing (although I’m secretly jealous that they get to dress up and shoot cannons).
A Randall Goodgame song is like a great independent movie. Characters deliver lines like they were lifted from a break room, a truck stop, or a downtown diner. Seemingly incongruent scenes are juxtaposed and plot isn’t obvious; in fact, narrative–a good story–is often more evident than linear plot lines. An indie movie, like a Randall Goodgame song, seems to tell itself. Rather than being rudely yanked by a chain through a sequence of contrived events, with a Randall Goodgame song, I have the sense that I’m being allowed a willing, but vicarious sneak peak into the real lives of his real characters.
Sara Groves irritates me just a little bit. With each album she makes, she moves from strength to strength and is always raising the bar with the quality, depth, and lyrical ambition of her work. And as a fellow artist, that’s just a little irritating since it means the rest of us are going to have to work harder if we hope to keep up.
I am outside on my front porch. The yellowed leaves are methodically falling from the black walnut in the yard, my breath is chalky visible in the recent cold snap, and lately I have been exploring the unpleasant nuances of the dark night of a soul - my own, to be exact. It is a strange passion we live out on this over-glorified orb of rock hurtling through space at some rate that I’m sure would astound me were I to know what it was. It is an odd series of days, I am realizing, when you question your own faith more than you question your own doubt. And, indeed, it is these nagging questions which have prompted me to share my thoughts on Andrew Peterson’s 2003 album, Love and Thunder.
11-year old Reuben Land, a character in the 2001 book Peace Like a River, provides narration that is clear-eyed and insightful, yet retains the magic, wonder, and innocence of youth. I found it easy to entrust my imagination to the author’s clever method of telling the story through the sensibilities of a pre-teen boy. An author with lesser skill would have either made the boy too smart-alecky for his own good or impossibly cute.
Eric Peters’s body of work addresses a diverse range of topics, but hope is a recurring theme that gently percolates in the midst of it all. And yet, somewhere between the 2001 masterpiece Land of the Living, and Scarce, the flavor of hope that Peters’s work emits has evolved closer to a tone that is more resolute than what came before. And though the complexion of hope has a broad range, the lyrics from Scarce–while intermittently contrite and timorous as in previous efforts, are now strengthened and bolstered by roots that have grown deeper, radiating an underlying grit and security.
Having read The Great Divorce many times over the years, I’ve found this classic from the great C.S. Lewis to be full of startling clarity and depth on the differences between Heaven and Hell. The only thing both have in common is that both begin in the human will; we can either let Heaven enter us and rule in us to blossom into love and goodness, or allow Hell to infect and reign in our hearts by the daily refusal to submit to Heaven.
Even if you haven’t heard Room to Breathe, its still likely you’ve heard Andy Gullahorn. He’s what I’d call a heavy lifter by trade. He writes lyrics, plays guitar, arranges vocals and adds production help to the work of artists like Jill Phillips and Andrew Peterson.
Allow me to preface this by telling you that I am a great despiser of gushing reviews. I’d much rather write (or read) a scathing dismemberment of the latest Brett Ratner film or Terry Goodkind book than suffer through four hundred words of overblown hyperbole about even the best of things. But when asked to write some thoughts on Frederick Buechner’s Godric, no amount of distaste for high praise was able to intervene. I hope you’ll take what I say with the understanding that I do not say it readily or lightly.
Andrew - Man, I love so many of the books on here, but I was ecstatic when I saw Devil in the White City. I *love* Erik Larson and I totally agree about creative non-fiction. This book in particular was so compelling and I felt like I learned a ton as well (spray painting invention? Really?). Good list man…
I just started reading The Road, glad to see you liked it.
Creative non-fiction… have you read ‘Endurance’ about Ernest Shackelton? amazing!
I haven’t read the book, but the documentary by the same name is one of my favorites. Shackleton’s story is amazing. Thanks for the recommendation.
“Endurance” is an amazing story. It reads like a novel and it’s difficult to put down. I still shake my head and marvel at what those men were able to survive. The book had me laughing out loud at times and set my heart pounding with fear and tension at other times. Through all of the reading pleasure it was gratifying to know that I was engaged in a history lesson as well.
Definitely read “Endurance”, but be careful – more than just the good one exists with the same title and one is a real bore.
Great list! Glad to read you enjoyed The Father Brown mysteries. I got The Road for Christmas and can’t wait to read it.
I noticed no Helprin on the list - have you read Helprin and have we talked about him? His book that I think came out last year called “The Pacific” is one of my favorites. Freddy & Frederika was really good, too, though not my favorite Helprin.
[...] Andrew Peterson [...]
I just finished The Road last night and I was tossing and turning all night long. I didn’t sleep very well. It was one of the best books I’ve read in a long time, I can see why it won the Pulitzer. It was shockingly disturbing, graphic, challenging, depressing, uplifting, moving and inspiring. Ultimately, it bolstered my faith in God and my love of my wife and family. I would recommend it, but try not to finish it right before you turn out the light.
Caleb, I had the same experience. Read the book, turned out the light, and tossed and turned the rest of the night. Wish I would’ve had your advice before reading it.
Have any of ya’ll read “The Shack” by William Young yet? I barely finished it in 2007. I still don’t know how to describe it or what to make of it, it’s so rich in theology and yet so different and daring.
I’m glad to see you are Wendell Berry fan. Hannah Coulter ranks as one of my favorite novels.
If you haven’t already read it, I think you’d enjoy “What Is The What” by Dave Eggers. It’s a sort of creative non-fiction–it describes itself as a biographical novel– about the Sudanese diaspora and it is *excellent*.