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Monthly Archives: November 2011

Literature Commentary: Inheritance

As a fantasy-loving 14-year-old, few books stirred my imagination more than Christopher Paolini’s “Eragon” and “Eldest.” Not only were both novels rousing adventures, they were also authored by a former homeschooler just a few years older than me – inspiring for a young writer like me. I devoured both tomes (four times apiece) and eagerly anticipated the concluding installment.

Fast forward three years, and Paolini made a horribly misguided decision: splitting the final volume into two. After years of anticipation, “Brisingr” just fell flat. Not only was the writing not up to snuff with his previous work, “Brisingr” barely advanced the story and lapsed into tedious subplots. I wasn’t holding my breath for Book 4 – the story had become horribly predictable, and a half-rate conclusion was assured. Or so I thought.

It’s been three more years, but the quartet-concluding finale – “Inheritance” – has finally arrived. And I am happy to report that it vastly surpassed my expectations.

“Inheritance” picks up immediately after “Brisingr.” Young warrior Eragon and his mentally-linked dragon, Saphira, are finally beginning their campaign against evil King Galbatorix. Backed by a host of allies – elf princess Arya, rebel commander Nasuada, Eragon’s brawny cousin Roran, dwarf king Orik, and others – they press forward through enemy city after enemy city. And all the while, they must contend with Eragon’s half-brother Murtagh, a fallen Dragon Rider allied with Galbatorix.

It all sounds terribly clichéd to anyone who’s read much fantasy. And the first 500 pages of “Inheritance” (it’s a colossal 850-page volume) are a predictable slog. Most of the major plot elements here have been clear almost from the start of the series. Good guys fight enemies, suffer a few minor struggles along the way, and approach the final battle. And on and on it goes. I wasn’t holding my breath for anything spectacular.

But as the book hits its third act, the story suddenly explodes into pulse-pounding life. A series of clever, expectation-defying twists is thrown in, leading to a thrilling and deeply satisfying climax. Characters are forced to use more than brute strength to accomplish their goals – a refreshing departure from what I expected. Reading the last half of “Inheritance,” I felt like a young teenager enjoying “Eragon” for the first time. The magic and wonder of Paolini’s fantasy universe finally blossoms, and the plot takes some surprisingly mature directions. The fact is, this is an exciting final chapter, and I certainly didn’t expect to be as riveted as I was.

From a stylistic standpoint, the book is unfortunately weighed down by Paolini’s poor writing. Particularly in the first half of the book, I found myself stopping mid-paragraph to marvel at the ineptness of Paolini’s prose (and, for that matter, his editor). “Inheritance” too often dissolves into a rush of “thesaurian” words, overwrought similes, and badly constructed sentences. (It’s worth noting, though, that by the end I wasn’t distracted by this anymore – maybe I was too engaged in the story, or maybe the writing simply gets better as the book goes on).

“Inheritance” is also crippled by bloat – the same sort of bloat that afflicts almost all of Robert Jordan’s later work. There comes a time when every writer must sacrifice subplots and extraneous characters in the name of the greater story. If that has to be done by killing off unneeded characters, so be it. These elements shouldn’t have been there in the first place unless they advance the plot somehow. In retrospect, virtually all of “Brisingr” should have been sent to the chopping block, as well as a good third of “Inheritance.” There is no reason – short of wanton profit-mongering – that this series needed to extend across four huge books.

(Aside: With all due respect to Paolini, the wait time between books has been completely unreasonable. If Terry Brooks and Ted Dekker can crank out multiple, well-written 400-page novels within one year, more than three years is ridiculous for an 850-page book. Just had to get that off my chest…)

One of the great strengths of Paolini’s writing, however, is his fascinating attention to cultural details. Occasionally, “Inheritance” lapses into beautiful moments of deep reverie. The joy and mystery of an undiscovered world shines through, drawing the reader’s attention away from dull political diatribes and endless spell casting. Throughout “Inheritance,” clever little touches are thrown in – the legend of an ancient tribal hero, for instance, or an indestructible sword crafted from “the archetype of an inclined plane” – that keep the book worth reading. Paolini might not be a very good writer of political intrigue, but he’s an outstanding world-builder.

There are some interesting worldview touches sprinkled throughout the entire series. “Eragon” briefly mentions the beliefs of Eragon’s fellow villagers (a kind of primitive animism), while “Eldest” highlights the atheism of the elves. The polytheistic dwarves get their turn in “Brisingr” – culminating with what seems to be the manifestation of a deity at a dwarven coronation ceremony. In “Inheritance,” the spotlight turns to rebel leader Nasuada’s monotheism. Unfortunately, these elements never get the development they deserve. They’re thrown in as offhanded references rather than plot touchstones, which may unintentionally reflect the series’ humanistic tone. By the end, Eragon adopts a sort of loose agnosticism – preferring to live a long life and die peacefully rather than pursue the eternal life offered by faith. It’s never quite clear where exactly Paolini stands on matters of religion and spirituality. (Some readers may wish to note that there’s a ton of magic and pseudo-occultism throughout the series, but it’s never portrayed as an alternative worldview system).

Objectionable content comes in the form of sustained fantasy violence (often bloody) and some nightmarish torture sequences. (If you don’t know what a degloving injury is, rest assured, you will after “Inheritance”). It’s certainly more graphic than other young adult fantasy, but probably wouldn’t run afoul of a PG-13 rating. This is not “The Hunger Games,” and the combat here packs far less of a punch. There’s no sexual content to speak of, and only one or two mild profanities.

If, like me, you’ve been reading Paolini’s novels from a young age, you owe it to yourself to pick up “Inheritance.” “Brisingr” might have been a letdown, but “Inheritance” is a fine conclusion to a relatively strong series. Sure, it’s flawed – pretty badly in some respects – but it has a lot to recommend it nonetheless. By the end, I was thoroughly enjoying “Inheritance” – once it defied my expectations, I was content to sit back and enjoy the ride. Adult fans of fantasy will likely find Paolini’s work deficient and derivative, but longtime fans will find much to like here.

It’s not “Harry Potter,” nor is it “The Hunger Games.” But it’s still pretty good.

VERDICT: 7.5/10
A surprisingly strong conclusion to a long-running epic.

 
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Posted by on November 17, 2011 in Fantasy

 

Book Review: “Why Men Hate Going to Church”

One of my earliest memories is sitting on the sink while my father was shaving. As he did, he taught me the words to some of the classic Christian men’s hymns – “Onward Christian Soldiers” and “Stand Up, Stand Up For Jesus” among them. Even a couple of decades later, I’ve never forgotten that subtle link he forged between masculinity and Christianity. For me, Christianity was the faith of brave men…and it remains so to this day.

Unfortunately, as David Murrow’s thought-provoking book “Why Men Hate Going to Church” makes clear, this sentiment is not universally held in Christendom. According to Murrow, years of religious “feminization” have created a Christian subculture populated with a disproportionate number of females. This, in turn, has contributed to the overall decline of the church.

Murrow first considers the problem: the lack of men in Christian churches. He attributes this absence to the “feminine” tone of modern Christianity, as evidenced by a focus on traditionally female ways of viewing the world (relationships, community, stability, etc.).

Murrow’s arguments against the trappings of modern Christianity are brilliant and devastating. Yes, it is tacky for a worship band to sell recordings of their own music in the back of the church. Yes, praise and worship music contains creepy almost-erotic overtones that bother men. Yes, Jesus is portrayed too often as a sensitive lover rather than as a successful male leader. Yes, the words “personal relationship with Jesus” disturb guys and never show up in the Bible. Yes, an extended time of “sharing what the Holy Spirit has laid on my heart” often leads to personal sermonizing and grandstanding.

As a guy, I can completely relate to Murrow’s contentions. Some readers will inevitably cry foul at this point, but the fact remains: this is how guys think. I found myself showing the book to a friend and saying “I’ve been saying this all along!” Notably, Murrow doesn’t cross over into brash, he-man “kamikaze Christianity.” He calls for a more measured middle ground, with elements both men and women can appreciate.

His solutions will be familiar to anyone who’s taken a good look at modern American Christianity. He offers a variety of marketing ideas – TV screens, more male-friendly hymns, “edgier” church names, etc. – that many megachurches employ. These, for Murrow, are tools that the church should use to attract modern men.

Naturally, some cautions are in order. Most unfortunately, Murrow frequently seems to correlate church attendance with genuine faith – early on, he implies that individuals who profess Jesus Christ (but do not attend church) aren’t real Christians. While I certainly understand the point he’s making – faith should translate into action – this flirts with a dangerous works-righteousness attitude. Echoes of this turn up elsewhere – there’s a great focus on getting rear ends into chairs, but little said about the woeful lack of Biblical knowledge among Christians today. Many of the “feminized” aspects of church Murrow criticizes are essential: having a lively men’s ministry is useless if said men are ill-equipped to deal with real-world apologetic challenges. Thus, a firm grounding in doctrine (“boring” as it may be) remains vital.

Murrow seems to suggest that a dilemma exists between intellectualism and masculinity – I would label this a false dichotomy. Low expectations and deficient theology have created a passive culture of entertainment in the church, and it will surely take more than “manly activities” to pull American Christianity as a whole from its stupor. Some of the greatest Christian thinkers of all time (Augustine, Luther, etc.) were certainly masculine men, and it’s worth looking to them as examples.

In short, Murrow’s analysis of the problem is excellent, but his solution leaves something to be desired. He points to megachurches as examples worth emulating (when it comes to attracting men). While these megachurches certainly have their appeal, oftentimes sound doctrine is watered-down in order to attract a wider demographic. Throughout the book, Murrow seems to overlook the idea that a lack of Biblical knowledge might be contributing to spiritual malaise. Abandoning intellectualism as an “unmanly” pursuit is a risky proposition indeed.

Murrow’s most powerful ideas are the simplest: stop talking in terms of a personal relationship with Jesus (a feminine idea) and point to His goal-oriented imperative: “Follow me.” Get rid of bad praise music that associates Jesus and sensual love. Stop speaking in terms of “sharing.” Offer clear challenges and goals. These are all principles that local churches can (and probably should) employ, and they’re potent enough to render this book well worth reading.

Stylistically, Murrow is an excellent author. He pulls few punches and writes engagingly (I buzzed through the book in an afternoon). And though I have a few problems with his proposed solutions to the “Man Problem,” there’s still much wisdom and food for thought here. Virtually all Christians – from laymen to bishops – would be well served to read this book.

VERDICT: 8/10
A provocative, compelling look at the dearth of men in modern churches.

* I received this book free from Thomas Nelson Publishers as part of their BookSneeze.com book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”

 
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Posted by on November 14, 2011 in Contemporary