Monthly Archives: February 2020

Luminous, is the word I would use to describe some of the essays in this collection by Brian Doyle, a writer I was not familiar with until reading One Long River of Song.

This book, which I borrowed from the library but now feel so entranced by it that I am probably going to buy a copy for myself, was mentioned somewhere in a review, caught my eye, and so I kept it on my radar (I have lots of books on my radar).

Lucky me. While Doyle apparently is well known in many circles as an essayist of renown, exploring spiritual matters (one of his gigs was with a Catholic journal, I believe), which sort of would turn me off from him if things veered too religious, the collected pieces here are full of humor, insight, reflection, quiet, family and more. The spiritual aspects are more a sense of shared humanity.

Yes, there is a deeper spiritual nature and some references to religious beliefs to Doyle’s pieces, but these elements allow him to step back and look at the larger world with, as the subtitle says, Notes on Wonder. From the natural world (he is particularly attuned to Hawks and birds, and a piece about hummingbirds to start the collection is exquisite) to the unanticipated pleasures of parenthood (he and his wife were told they would not have children, and then had three) to growing up in a bustling family (one essay about biking to the beach along the highway, only to be saved from near death by an older brother is touching), to conversations with friends and strangers that become small odes of intensive observation, Doyle is a writer of note.

I am sad to report that this collection, curated by his wife and put into context by a writing friend, David James Duncan, whose foreword is a moving piece of textual friendship, was published following Doyle’s death from brain cancer. And yet, even the later pieces, in which he writes about leaving this life, Doyle somehow finds the right words to touch your heart, to be grateful for what you have in the moment you are in. One particular late essay in which he imagines what his wife thinks of him, through his own strange wanderings and mutterings, is touching, funny, and so deep with humanity.

As part of my own reading life, I often take passages and sentences that I deem to be beautiful or enriching, and share them out elsewhere under a #smallquotes tag. It’s a way for me to remember my reading, and honor the writers, but also, in typing out the passages from the books, I learn more about how to be a writer myself. Doyle has been a wonderful teacher, in this regard, giving me so many beautiful passages and flowing sentences that I could have easily found dozens in this book.

I wasn’t aware of Brian Doyle when he was alive and a vibrant writer of novels, essays, poems and more, but this collection of pieces has brought him and his words into my world, into my heart, and for that, I am grateful.

Peace (flowing on the page),
Kevin

You’d probably be better off searching YouTube for how to really take a selfie, win an election, build a highway, charge your phone, cross a river, predict the weather, build a lava moat, dig a hole and the whole host of other both odd and common topics that pepper Randall Munroe’s recent book, How To (Absurd Scientific Advice for Common Real-World Problem).

But it wouldn’t likely be nearly as much fun.

If you know Munroe’s work (through his xkcd comics and other books), then you know that his brain is wired with both logic and humor, and both are sure to get you laughing while you’re thinking. Or is it thinking while you’re laughing?

In either case, you’ll be doing both.

With math and science at his fingertips, and with plenty of his signature stick doodles to pepper the pages, Monroe tackles a wide range of issues with practicality and impracticality. If you are a teacher like me, you’ll quickly realize that this kind of expository/informational writing could potentially become a neat and interesting model for students to explore.

Nothing Monroe shares here is untrue (as far as I can tell) and much of it is written in clear, concise language (for the most part), and the illustrations connect to the text (if in funny tones) — so what if this kind of book becomes a sort of mentor text for teaching this kind of technical writing?

Even if not, this book is certainly worth your time. There’s even a final chapter on “How To Dispose of This Book.” You could send it to the Sun, bury it deep into the earth, put it beneath the ocean floor or just hand it over to a friend to read. Whatever’s easier.

Peace (stick people rule!),
Kevin