I was watching the trailer for Marvel's movie, The Avengers, today when it hit me that there are two things we most desperately want. 1) An ongoing story, and 2) a conclusion. Unfortunately, these two are diametrically opposed and so we are left with movies like Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides or The Land Before Time 86, or anything to that effect. All the while we want some grand conclusion... but only if it doesn't ruin the possibility of the story continuing on.
I'm actually excited about The Avengers largely because it isn't the formulaic sequel that Hollywood has been giving us for far too long, which is to say it isn't the same story in a different, and probably exotic, location (read: Hangover II, Sex and the City II, Mighty Ducks II... mmm, just about everything II). But I digress, this isn't just about what we look for in a movie. Box office numbers have shown that even when a movie is crappy we still go, and I don't think it's because people are complete dummies. I think, by and large, we're looking for a narrative that gives our lives larger meaning even if sometimes we don't always go to the right place to find it.
This has implications, however, for far more than movies. We want a narrative that's ongoing and one that is final. Good, effective preaching has to feed both. Mostly we fail in contributing to the ongoing narrative, evidenced enough by the number of church-goers who don't see any connection between the sermon and their daily lives. Other times we try too hard to connect with lives and miss the endgame--the gospel. Good stories do both, but they're hard to come by. On the one hand it's enough to preach the Gospel and on the other it's insufficient (if it doesn't live in an ongoing narrative).
This is the difficulty in bringing the old to life and putting the new to death, and it takes somebody like Jesus to actually show us how. The power of the Gospels isn't just in promise but in death AND resurrection. Sometimes death is the only way to get there. Sometimes Hollywood has to kill something in order to give it power. Too much of a good thing isn't really a good thing at all.
That is Gospel.
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Chess tournament preparation and exercise
For the last two years, I have spent much of my free time doing two different things: exercising and studying or playing chess. Over the course of that time I have been charting my chess performance and correlating it with the kind of physical preparation I've had. The results have been a mix, but some trends have emerged.
The up-shot of this is important for chess players certainly, but I think it's also important for studying anything. If you want to improve--whether at chess or anything that requires a degree of mental exertion--the best way is to study or practice. None of what I'm about to say should take away from any of that. What proper physical preparation does is not increase your knowledge or strength; instead, it maximizes the strength that you already have.
Some of the people I have learned the most from are triathletes, because they know how to prepare themselves both mentally and physically for race day. Over time I've come to realize that preparation for a chess tournament is not so different. You can play chess completely out of shape, and yet an in-shape person will be more consistent and overall a better player than the same person out-of-shape.
So here's my advice: prepare for a chess tournament physically as well as mentally. Chess is a workout--even if it's not the kind that will make your legs sore in the morning. To prepare for a tournament, exercise regularly with particular emphasis on the time a week before the first game. Peak in your workouts sometime around 3 days before the tournament. You can workout up to the day before (and you should), but don't push yourself too hard on Friday if you're going to be playing 2-3 games on Saturday.
On the day of a chess tournament don't exercise unless you feel the need to do something light in the morning--say, take a walk or do light weight lifting. Don't do cardio on the same day that you play chess! The more lactic acid you build up in your legs the more your body will have to detox and that's going to make you tired; if your body is tired your brain is not functioning at full capacity.
Next, diet is crucial. Eat well, especially the day before. Fruits, vegetables and grains are all very good. You don't need to carb-load like a triathlete because you're not going to need to burn that many calories, but that's no excuse to pound down a Big Mac, fries and a shake. Not only will this keep you from getting sick, but it will also give your body the needed vitamins and minerals to give you a clear mind.
Most importantly: hydrate. If there is a single thing that even a couch potato can do to improve your physical preparation for a chess game it is this. Hydration is crucial in determining whether you have energy after a long weekend chess tournament. Hydrate while you are playing, but even more importantly the day before. You should be guzzling water the day before a chess tournament. When I go on a run or a long bike ride the difficulty is almost always proportional to how much I hydrated the day before. Water is your friend.
And this brings me to my final point: stay away from caffeine leading up to a tournament. Energy drinks are a big no-no. The day of a tournament is a different story. Everybody is affected by caffeine differently. Personally, I find it difficult to say if the benefits of the rush associated with caffeine outweigh the slightly altered state of mind, but I can understand if you feel the need to have an energy drink before the third game in a day or coffee to wake up in the morning. The problem is in coming down from that high. While runners and bicyclists might not think twice about caffeine, you have to remember that their mental focus need only be on going forward; the chess player needs to be able to process quickly and slowly, with restraint and with accurate calculation.
I hope this has been helpful. If you have any further insight I'd love to hear it!
The up-shot of this is important for chess players certainly, but I think it's also important for studying anything. If you want to improve--whether at chess or anything that requires a degree of mental exertion--the best way is to study or practice. None of what I'm about to say should take away from any of that. What proper physical preparation does is not increase your knowledge or strength; instead, it maximizes the strength that you already have.
Some of the people I have learned the most from are triathletes, because they know how to prepare themselves both mentally and physically for race day. Over time I've come to realize that preparation for a chess tournament is not so different. You can play chess completely out of shape, and yet an in-shape person will be more consistent and overall a better player than the same person out-of-shape.
So here's my advice: prepare for a chess tournament physically as well as mentally. Chess is a workout--even if it's not the kind that will make your legs sore in the morning. To prepare for a tournament, exercise regularly with particular emphasis on the time a week before the first game. Peak in your workouts sometime around 3 days before the tournament. You can workout up to the day before (and you should), but don't push yourself too hard on Friday if you're going to be playing 2-3 games on Saturday.
On the day of a chess tournament don't exercise unless you feel the need to do something light in the morning--say, take a walk or do light weight lifting. Don't do cardio on the same day that you play chess! The more lactic acid you build up in your legs the more your body will have to detox and that's going to make you tired; if your body is tired your brain is not functioning at full capacity.
Next, diet is crucial. Eat well, especially the day before. Fruits, vegetables and grains are all very good. You don't need to carb-load like a triathlete because you're not going to need to burn that many calories, but that's no excuse to pound down a Big Mac, fries and a shake. Not only will this keep you from getting sick, but it will also give your body the needed vitamins and minerals to give you a clear mind.
Most importantly: hydrate. If there is a single thing that even a couch potato can do to improve your physical preparation for a chess game it is this. Hydration is crucial in determining whether you have energy after a long weekend chess tournament. Hydrate while you are playing, but even more importantly the day before. You should be guzzling water the day before a chess tournament. When I go on a run or a long bike ride the difficulty is almost always proportional to how much I hydrated the day before. Water is your friend.
And this brings me to my final point: stay away from caffeine leading up to a tournament. Energy drinks are a big no-no. The day of a tournament is a different story. Everybody is affected by caffeine differently. Personally, I find it difficult to say if the benefits of the rush associated with caffeine outweigh the slightly altered state of mind, but I can understand if you feel the need to have an energy drink before the third game in a day or coffee to wake up in the morning. The problem is in coming down from that high. While runners and bicyclists might not think twice about caffeine, you have to remember that their mental focus need only be on going forward; the chess player needs to be able to process quickly and slowly, with restraint and with accurate calculation.
I hope this has been helpful. If you have any further insight I'd love to hear it!
Saturday, October 8, 2011
On being a Minnesota sports fan: Hockey edition
I woke up this morning with one thought in my head, "Hockey! Hockey! Hockey!"
It's Wild season!
So here I am getting stoked about another team that has little real chance of success, but this is also how it always works. We are very excited about the potential... until it's actualized. Then, we are left with the inevitable fruits of the Vikings, Twins, Wolves, Gophers, and even the Wild. It'll probably be a losing season. Actually, in hockey because of the ridiculous scoring where you get points for overtime losses, it might not look like a losing season.
40-32-10 looks a lot better than 40-42. In the NHL they're basically the same.
Still, it's hockey season and my fantasy league of Canadians and other hockey wonks is up and running. I'm looking forward to defending my title, looking forward to pretending the Wild will contend and ready to return to the X where the Wild are undefeated in games I've attended... now I just need to have gone more than twice.
Fearless prediction: Wild finish 2nd in the NW Division with a record of 42-33-7 but miss the playoffs by something like one point (because that is how we roll)
It's Wild season!
So here I am getting stoked about another team that has little real chance of success, but this is also how it always works. We are very excited about the potential... until it's actualized. Then, we are left with the inevitable fruits of the Vikings, Twins, Wolves, Gophers, and even the Wild. It'll probably be a losing season. Actually, in hockey because of the ridiculous scoring where you get points for overtime losses, it might not look like a losing season.
40-32-10 looks a lot better than 40-42. In the NHL they're basically the same.
Still, it's hockey season and my fantasy league of Canadians and other hockey wonks is up and running. I'm looking forward to defending my title, looking forward to pretending the Wild will contend and ready to return to the X where the Wild are undefeated in games I've attended... now I just need to have gone more than twice.
Fearless prediction: Wild finish 2nd in the NW Division with a record of 42-33-7 but miss the playoffs by something like one point (because that is how we roll)
Friday, September 30, 2011
On top of Minnesota: 7 Summits in 3 Days
Someday soon my life is going to be a lot more structured with church duties and other life responsibilities, which makes it all the more important to enjoy the time I have now. Lately, I've taken that opportunity. The Superior Hiking Trail has its own version of the "7 Summits Challenge," boasting 7 summits of varying heights but all with spectacular views and worthwhile climbs.
Minnesota is sometimes mocked by people who come from more mountainous terrain. For them, I was hiking the Sawtooth "Mountains" with emphasis on the quotation marks. I understand the sentiment. I've worked in Idaho and Oregon, hiked in both the Cascades and the Rockies. What we have in Minnesota looks nothing like Mt. Hood or Mt. Rainier. That much is a given. Nonetheless, Minnesota has some genuinely challenging terrain in the arrowhead with the Superior Hiking Trail and Border Route Trails displaying that in spades. As I climbed up Moose Mountain this past week I thought to myself how baseless it is to call this a flat state. It's not. After this trip, I can prove it.
Three days on the trail, over 30 miles and 3500 vertical feet, brought me a new sense of achievement. This was, finally, a trip to see the best of the north shore. From Ely's Peak in Duluth, to Lookout Mountain in Cascade River State Park, to Pincushion Mountain in Grand Marais, to Oberg Mountain, to Moose Mountain, to Carlton Peak, to Mount Trudee I traversed the length of the north shore, driving mile after mile to find the next vista. My quick advice for anybody pondering a similar trip: do it. Just go.
At every summit was a view worth savoring. There were miles and miles of trees in varying shades of green, yellow, orange and red. Entire ridge lines of vermillion from sugar maples in the early autumn. And always there was Lake Superior 1000 feet or so below, vast and crystal clear with the odd ship off in the distance. It was heaven.
The second day I was the second car to arrive in the Oberg Mountain parking lot. It was before 8 am and the sun wasn't showing above the peak. By the time I finished with Oberg and Moose it was nearly noon and I returned to see more than thirty cars and hikers of every shape and size milling about the lot. My first thought was "Dang! I want this to myself!" But then I realized how the whole shape of the trail is due to those who have gone before and had the wisdom to build and protect the wilderness that is a part of the Superior National Forest. Finally, I was glad that there were others who had the same desire as myself to climb a summit and to see creation from a whole new perspective.
I would sometimes go several hours without seeing another person even on some of the most well-traveled parts of the trails. I spooked something large on the third morning that was likely a bear; I guess this not so much for the noise it caused (even squirrels sound like a herd of elephants when you're alone on the trail) but for the tracks and matted brush I spotted soon thereafter. Nature was at its best. It was, in a word, wonderful.
The last day was the perfect cap: a 3.7 mile excursion through Tettegouche State Park to the top of Mt. Trudee. I planned it this way because it was the southernmost peak outside of Ely's in Duluth, so I was closest to home. The view was merely a bonus, but what a bonus it was! Trudee, Oberg and Carlton are on my short-list for most beautiful hikes I have ever experienced and each of them is do-able in 3-4 hours. Oberg, in fact, is much quicker (an hour if you want).
I offer this all because this is a place worth celebrating. It helped to go when the colors were just beginning to peak. A dry late summer means that the leaves are changing quickly, so get out and enjoy it. Take a walk, whether it's on the SHT or in your backyard. Not everybody has the free time I currently enjoy, but everybody has a moment or two to take a break and relax. The reward wasn't just in the completion of the challenge but in the experience itself. This was no ironman; it was tough but not overwhelming. It was mostly just fun. And if that's not what it's all about, it's at least a good start.
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| The view from Carlton Peak |
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| From Lookout Mountain |
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| Oberg Lake from Oberg Mt. |
The second day I was the second car to arrive in the Oberg Mountain parking lot. It was before 8 am and the sun wasn't showing above the peak. By the time I finished with Oberg and Moose it was nearly noon and I returned to see more than thirty cars and hikers of every shape and size milling about the lot. My first thought was "Dang! I want this to myself!" But then I realized how the whole shape of the trail is due to those who have gone before and had the wisdom to build and protect the wilderness that is a part of the Superior National Forest. Finally, I was glad that there were others who had the same desire as myself to climb a summit and to see creation from a whole new perspective.
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| Autumn on the SHT |
The last day was the perfect cap: a 3.7 mile excursion through Tettegouche State Park to the top of Mt. Trudee. I planned it this way because it was the southernmost peak outside of Ely's in Duluth, so I was closest to home. The view was merely a bonus, but what a bonus it was! Trudee, Oberg and Carlton are on my short-list for most beautiful hikes I have ever experienced and each of them is do-able in 3-4 hours. Oberg, in fact, is much quicker (an hour if you want).
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| From Mt. Trudee, looking back over Tettegouche State Park |
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Curiosity: Parallel Universes and... Heaven?
Life has been very full lately. I got engaged, I'm in the process of getting a call to a church (which is, I can say, quite the process), and tomorrow I'm heading out to do the Superior Hiking Trail's version of the 7 Summits. When I get back I plan on doing a serious, blogging recap of the journey, but for now I have had a few different thoughts that seem important to get down if for no other reason than to keep myself in the practice.
A week or so ago I saw the new Discovery Channel series Curiosity for the first time. Basically, it's big questions put before experts in the field who then do their best to simplify and explain the issue and raise new questions in turn. I can't speak to all the episodess so far (I know they did one on Is there a God with Stephen Hawking that I haven't seen and, frankly, it's hard to want to, knowing how Discovery has treated this issue in the past). Nonetheless, the two episodes I have seen were both intriguing, the kind of programming I expect from Discovery (and not this American Chopper or ghost-busting bologna).
The episode that really caught my attention was one on parallel universes. It was stuff that I had heard before but presented in a fascinating way. One of the theories offered was that there are, in fact, two realities that run parallel to each other. These two universes balance out the cosmos. In this theory, the Big Bang wasn't the creation of matter but the splitting of the two universes--one up against the other.
This is intriguing enough from a scientific perspective, but if we take the audacious step of thinking about this theologically then we have a whole new can of worms. I've heard heaven described as just a blink away, always just there an instant ahead of us. I don't know if this is scriptural--I looked briefly and couldn't find it--so if you know where this came from please do clue me in. But regardless, there is something about this that really jives with an understanding of the world down here and a spiritual world beyond.
Maybe heaven isn't so much an instant ahead of us as it is directly alongside, parallel to us. After all, in the creation story of Genesis 1, God separates the waters above from the waters below to make the earth and sky. In fact, much of cosmic creation amounts to separating similar entities. Whether it's the water from the water (Gen 1:6) or the day from the night (1:14) creation is tantamount to separation. Similarly, the first distinction in the Bible is between two different entities: earth and heaven.
"In the beginning God created the earth and the heavens."
In the beginning there was balance in this created order. Mainline Christianity has long ago given up the physical locality of heaven insofar as it can be reached in this reality, but in its place the language for heaven has become spiritual rather than scientific. Curiosity got me thinking: what if this is it? What if our language about the kingdom of God boils down to another reality opposing and yet parallel to our own? What if heaven isn't just a breath away but imminently present, parallel to us?
Suddenly, the incarnation isn't so much a break in the boundaries of heaven and earth as much as it is a rupture in the fabric of the universe. Isn't that what the gospel writers are telling us with the skies (Mark 4:10) and curtain (Mark 15:38) being torn apart?
Maybe all of this is a stretch. Things are rarely so simple that they can be summed up in a 60-minute television program, and yet I wonder... And that is what curiosity should be about.
A week or so ago I saw the new Discovery Channel series Curiosity for the first time. Basically, it's big questions put before experts in the field who then do their best to simplify and explain the issue and raise new questions in turn. I can't speak to all the episodess so far (I know they did one on Is there a God with Stephen Hawking that I haven't seen and, frankly, it's hard to want to, knowing how Discovery has treated this issue in the past). Nonetheless, the two episodes I have seen were both intriguing, the kind of programming I expect from Discovery (and not this American Chopper or ghost-busting bologna).
The episode that really caught my attention was one on parallel universes. It was stuff that I had heard before but presented in a fascinating way. One of the theories offered was that there are, in fact, two realities that run parallel to each other. These two universes balance out the cosmos. In this theory, the Big Bang wasn't the creation of matter but the splitting of the two universes--one up against the other.
This is intriguing enough from a scientific perspective, but if we take the audacious step of thinking about this theologically then we have a whole new can of worms. I've heard heaven described as just a blink away, always just there an instant ahead of us. I don't know if this is scriptural--I looked briefly and couldn't find it--so if you know where this came from please do clue me in. But regardless, there is something about this that really jives with an understanding of the world down here and a spiritual world beyond.
Maybe heaven isn't so much an instant ahead of us as it is directly alongside, parallel to us. After all, in the creation story of Genesis 1, God separates the waters above from the waters below to make the earth and sky. In fact, much of cosmic creation amounts to separating similar entities. Whether it's the water from the water (Gen 1:6) or the day from the night (1:14) creation is tantamount to separation. Similarly, the first distinction in the Bible is between two different entities: earth and heaven.
"In the beginning God created the earth and the heavens."
In the beginning there was balance in this created order. Mainline Christianity has long ago given up the physical locality of heaven insofar as it can be reached in this reality, but in its place the language for heaven has become spiritual rather than scientific. Curiosity got me thinking: what if this is it? What if our language about the kingdom of God boils down to another reality opposing and yet parallel to our own? What if heaven isn't just a breath away but imminently present, parallel to us?
Suddenly, the incarnation isn't so much a break in the boundaries of heaven and earth as much as it is a rupture in the fabric of the universe. Isn't that what the gospel writers are telling us with the skies (Mark 4:10) and curtain (Mark 15:38) being torn apart?
Maybe all of this is a stretch. Things are rarely so simple that they can be summed up in a 60-minute television program, and yet I wonder... And that is what curiosity should be about.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Theology and theopoetry
I heard the worst sermon of my life this morning. Kate was there. She can back it up.
With that said, sorry I haven't posted in awhile. I'd say I've been busy, but it's been more like uninspired to write. I have other things to be doing; I always have other things. Lately, blogging hasn't been the most important thing. From now on it might be. Who knows.
Anyway, back to the subject.
This was most bizarre, unfortunate 25 minutes I have ever spent in a worship space (This wasn't my home church and I won't say where it was; even if I did say, it was a guest preacher, so it is no reflection on the church in question). The pastor preached in a way, but really it was a show that had a little bit of interpretive dance and far more singing and playing of piano than should ever occur in lieu of a message. Please understand that I have no problem with music--even music in a sermon--but there comes a point where it is simply shtick. This was shtick in spades.
This is a classic example of theopoetry gone astray. Theopoetry is an attempt to speak of God not in systematic terms, as theology is wont to do, but with language that expands the horizons of how we might view God. It is creative language; and at its best it is splendid. I say this because I love theopoets who honed the skill. Rob Bell, Barbara Brown Taylor, John Polkinghorne, Madeleine l'Engle and even Garrison Keillor are theopoets in their own ways.
Yet, for each brilliant thinker who widens the net casting for God there are those who just don't get it. The pastor this morning just didn't get it. He destroyed the structure of the message but without offering a word that was the least bit creative. Rather than projecting us forward into what it might mean to live as human beings in God's creation, he seemed to be trying to call us back to something... something that I didn't understand; something vague and unreal. It didn't feel spiritual; in fact, it felt close to laughable.
I believe theology is useful to ground us. It is useful because it recalls the wisdom of those before and treats their witness as something spirit-filled. But many people who study theology tend to give it too much weight. To me, God hardly seems systematic. Life is poetic: the good and the bad. I love theopoetry because it admits that, lives in it, and at its best conveys what it means to be human.
My profound hope is that we stop with the gimicks; the singing preachers and half-hearted jokes, and let's start dwelling in scripture faithfully, preaching boldly and admitting that words fail. That would be a nice start.
With that said, sorry I haven't posted in awhile. I'd say I've been busy, but it's been more like uninspired to write. I have other things to be doing; I always have other things. Lately, blogging hasn't been the most important thing. From now on it might be. Who knows.
Anyway, back to the subject.
This was most bizarre, unfortunate 25 minutes I have ever spent in a worship space (This wasn't my home church and I won't say where it was; even if I did say, it was a guest preacher, so it is no reflection on the church in question). The pastor preached in a way, but really it was a show that had a little bit of interpretive dance and far more singing and playing of piano than should ever occur in lieu of a message. Please understand that I have no problem with music--even music in a sermon--but there comes a point where it is simply shtick. This was shtick in spades.
This is a classic example of theopoetry gone astray. Theopoetry is an attempt to speak of God not in systematic terms, as theology is wont to do, but with language that expands the horizons of how we might view God. It is creative language; and at its best it is splendid. I say this because I love theopoets who honed the skill. Rob Bell, Barbara Brown Taylor, John Polkinghorne, Madeleine l'Engle and even Garrison Keillor are theopoets in their own ways.
Yet, for each brilliant thinker who widens the net casting for God there are those who just don't get it. The pastor this morning just didn't get it. He destroyed the structure of the message but without offering a word that was the least bit creative. Rather than projecting us forward into what it might mean to live as human beings in God's creation, he seemed to be trying to call us back to something... something that I didn't understand; something vague and unreal. It didn't feel spiritual; in fact, it felt close to laughable.
I believe theology is useful to ground us. It is useful because it recalls the wisdom of those before and treats their witness as something spirit-filled. But many people who study theology tend to give it too much weight. To me, God hardly seems systematic. Life is poetic: the good and the bad. I love theopoetry because it admits that, lives in it, and at its best conveys what it means to be human.
My profound hope is that we stop with the gimicks; the singing preachers and half-hearted jokes, and let's start dwelling in scripture faithfully, preaching boldly and admitting that words fail. That would be a nice start.
Friday, July 29, 2011
The book is always better...
...than the movie. It's pretty much a proven fact. I haven't read every book for every big-screen adaptation I have ever seen, but the ones I have are universally better in nearly every way in print.
This is actually rather cliche. This has been the mantra of the well-read now for years, but we don't stop all that often to examine the implications. What does it mean for a culture to spend and spend for instant big-screen gratification, while all the while admitting that is pales in comparison with the written word? Imagination is the first place to start. There is this preconception in this world we now inhabit that imagination is actually an unproductive thing. When somebody says, "He has quite the imagination" it usually isn't a compliment. They mean that the person in question (especially if he or she isn't a child) needs to get with the real world. The real world, as Hollywood sells it, is full of explosions and beautiful people full of super powers in beautiful, or at least impressive, settings. Sometimes the real world is actually like that; and sometimes it's not.
Books inhabit a place that is at once more relate-able and more imaginative for their audience, but (and here's the key) it takes effort to get there. Imagination is something that requires not just absorption but relationship with the words on the page. It's a rare movie that creates a relationship between the audience and the characters or the scenery--it is not impossible for any art to get there but movies have a particularly difficult task. The biggest barrier, in fact, may be time. A relationship takes time. Love at first sight may be real, but it is certainly rare and impossibly more complicated than it ever appears from the outside. Books--like relationships--are experienced over time; movies are limited, limiting.
Movies move like a rushing river, which has both awe-inspiring power and constant fluidity. They are fun but you can never really get beneath the surface--unless you are sucked under and spit out before you realize what happened. Books are a lazy stream, inviting to the swimmer--more like visual art or a symphony. To jump in the water and float is infinitely more pleasurable and conducive to the imagination than being swept away. I enjoy both rapids and lazy rivers, but they feed very different needs. Rapids can be exhilarating, a challenge to raft or intimidating to walk along. Lazy water allows my mind to wander, to experience the entirety of nature and then move beyond to imagine what might lie just beneath, beyond, or under what I see, breathe, touch and smell.
The book is always better, but--here's the unexpected twist--you don't need a book to read. I'm not talking about newspapers, the internet or magazines; Reader's Digest (does it still exist?) or blogs. I'm talking about reading nature, experiencing relationship as the ongoing experience of reading everything life has to offer. Recently, a lady at my mom's book club, upon learning that Kate and I were heading out camping, offered several reading suggestions--particularly for Kate--to pass the time. We nodded and smiled, then left and looked at each other, shaking our heads. We can read every leaf or tree, drop of water in a lake or fish beneath its surface. I can read everything before my eyes and beyond. The book is always better than the movie, not because it is confined to the pages but because it is bigger than we could ever have imagined. So, we're heading camping and we'll be reading all the while. Kate might crack open Bryson's A Walk in the Woods (my suggestion), but I plan on reading the water and hopefully finding a walleye at the end of the line.
It might not make for an explosive ending, but all in all it will still be quite good.
This is actually rather cliche. This has been the mantra of the well-read now for years, but we don't stop all that often to examine the implications. What does it mean for a culture to spend and spend for instant big-screen gratification, while all the while admitting that is pales in comparison with the written word? Imagination is the first place to start. There is this preconception in this world we now inhabit that imagination is actually an unproductive thing. When somebody says, "He has quite the imagination" it usually isn't a compliment. They mean that the person in question (especially if he or she isn't a child) needs to get with the real world. The real world, as Hollywood sells it, is full of explosions and beautiful people full of super powers in beautiful, or at least impressive, settings. Sometimes the real world is actually like that; and sometimes it's not.
Books inhabit a place that is at once more relate-able and more imaginative for their audience, but (and here's the key) it takes effort to get there. Imagination is something that requires not just absorption but relationship with the words on the page. It's a rare movie that creates a relationship between the audience and the characters or the scenery--it is not impossible for any art to get there but movies have a particularly difficult task. The biggest barrier, in fact, may be time. A relationship takes time. Love at first sight may be real, but it is certainly rare and impossibly more complicated than it ever appears from the outside. Books--like relationships--are experienced over time; movies are limited, limiting.
Movies move like a rushing river, which has both awe-inspiring power and constant fluidity. They are fun but you can never really get beneath the surface--unless you are sucked under and spit out before you realize what happened. Books are a lazy stream, inviting to the swimmer--more like visual art or a symphony. To jump in the water and float is infinitely more pleasurable and conducive to the imagination than being swept away. I enjoy both rapids and lazy rivers, but they feed very different needs. Rapids can be exhilarating, a challenge to raft or intimidating to walk along. Lazy water allows my mind to wander, to experience the entirety of nature and then move beyond to imagine what might lie just beneath, beyond, or under what I see, breathe, touch and smell.
The book is always better, but--here's the unexpected twist--you don't need a book to read. I'm not talking about newspapers, the internet or magazines; Reader's Digest (does it still exist?) or blogs. I'm talking about reading nature, experiencing relationship as the ongoing experience of reading everything life has to offer. Recently, a lady at my mom's book club, upon learning that Kate and I were heading out camping, offered several reading suggestions--particularly for Kate--to pass the time. We nodded and smiled, then left and looked at each other, shaking our heads. We can read every leaf or tree, drop of water in a lake or fish beneath its surface. I can read everything before my eyes and beyond. The book is always better than the movie, not because it is confined to the pages but because it is bigger than we could ever have imagined. So, we're heading camping and we'll be reading all the while. Kate might crack open Bryson's A Walk in the Woods (my suggestion), but I plan on reading the water and hopefully finding a walleye at the end of the line.
It might not make for an explosive ending, but all in all it will still be quite good.
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