Happy weekend before Christmas to all you Close Readers out there!
We’re well aware that this is a wild and crazy season for most people, and maybe you’re not able to pay your usual close-attention to podcasts. But just in case you’re one of those souls who use podcasts to get through all the events in your life (you know, like me) we’ve got you covered this weekend. You’ll be baking all weekend in a chaotic house? Running errands in brutal traffic? Wrapping gifts until your fingers are sore? Cleaning said chaotic house for your in-laws visit? Never fear Close Reads podcasts are here.
In addition to the Q&A episode that we recorded for A River Runs through It, we continued our annual tradition of discussing our favorite reads of the year. This year we recorded two episodes:
Over on the main feed, you’ll find our conversation about the fiction we most enjoyed.
And then on the Patreon feed, we have a bonus episode about our favorite non-fiction reads.
Meanwhile, on The Play’s the Thing, Tim and Heidi concluded their conversation about The Tempest, and then Tim chatted with an actor/director pair who recently produced a version of the play, so be sure to check out that bonus episode.
All of this is available wherever you get podcasts.
Reading Schedule for Peace Like a River
It’s already time to dive into Leif Enger’s wonderful novel, Peace Like a River, the novel that will guide us into 2020. Early next week Heidi, Tim, and I will be recording the first episode and we’ll be discussing pages 1-50 (the first three chapters), but here is the full schedule:
Speaking of Peace Like a River, you might enjoy this review from back in 2001, when the book first came out, in the New York Times:
It's tough to give magic realism an all-American spin, since God always seems to get mixed up in the equation, transforming fragrant lyricism into something that, to all but true believers, seems implausible: the perfectly timed miracle. Such convenient mysticism crops up frequently in Leif Enger's unabashed throwback of a first novel. Set in rural Minnesota in the early 1960's, it might as well be staged in frontier days, with its spunky, resourceful characters, rough-and-tumble adventures and folksy homilies along the lines of ''Yes, yes sir -- routine is worry's sly assassin.'' In this world of goose hunting and Bible quoting, it's virtually impossible to imagine that the story takes place just before Beatlemania and during the civil rights movement; even the appearance of an Airstream trailer seems jarringly anachronistic.
And then there’s this interesting piece on Enger, also from 2001. You’ll like this, for example:
"I was about 20 pages into the manuscript and was working on it early one morning when my youngest son, John, got up and came toddling in in his pajamas. He said: 'How's it going, Dad?' I said: 'It's going pretty well.' He said: 'You got any cowboys in that book yet?' And I said: 'No, not yet. But that's a fabulous idea. You think I should?' And he said: 'Yes!' I said: 'Well if you could give me a good name, I'll put a cowboy in the book.' And he said: 'Sunny Sundown.' No hesitation. Sunny Sundown. He'd been thinking about Sunny, apparently, for a while. I just happened to be at a spot where I could take off into it. By the end of the day the first few stanzas of Sunny were written and I just never looked back."
Oh, and for what it’s worth, Jamie Cain reviewed Enger’s newest novel, Virgil Wander, in the FORMA Review, our sister journal (if you will):
His novels suggest there could be more to the world, and to its people, than we can see. Both his narrators and the stories they find themselves in point to another level of reality existing beyond this one, sometimes barely visible at the edges, occasionally bursting into sight in the form of bonafide miracles. These miracles, though, are not of the greeting-card variety. Reuben Land, the young narrator of Peace Like a River, says a miracle is “like the swing of a sword.” Enger’s characters occupy worlds alive with this kind of miracle, if only they will have eyes to see. In fact, they often journey toward a different way of seeing, seeing with what Philip Yancey called grace-healed eyes.
In Case You Missed It
If you’re not a social media power user you may have missed the news that we will be discussing Crime and Punishment this winter and spring for our Patreon supporters. We’ll be starting the last week of January and posting episodes every two weeks. That will take us into the summer and then for the back half of the year we’ll be discussing Dickens’ Hard Times. Want to join in? Support the show at the $5 tier or higher and you’ll get access as soon as the episodes drop.
We have another Daily Poem contest going on for our younger listeners. Back on the 11/21 episode, I shared Ogden Nash’s delightful comic ballad, “The Tale of Custard the Dragon,” a great poem about courage, and now we invite our younger listeners to create illustrations/paintings/drawings inspired by the story at the heart of the poem. To enter, simply post your (or your child’s) submission on social media (Facebook or Instagram) and tag it with the hashtag #TDPballad. The deadline to enter is 12/31. So get busy, kids!
Well, that’s the word. Thanks so much for reading.
Merry Christmas from all of us here at Close Reads!
—David and the CR crew