Thursday, December 21, 2023

’24 Nonfiction

 

I like to have two books going at any given time. To keep me focused and confusion-free, I generally read one fiction and one nonfiction book simultaneously. I usually go through phases too, especially with my nonfiction reading. There’ve been lengthy phases of religion, the books of the Bible, physics and mathematics, Civil War, World War II. Over the past decade I’ve read 37 Civil War books, and over the past four years 40 books on World War II. As far as religion and the Bible go, I’ve read through the Good Book twice, have read separate books of the Bible multiple times in multiple translations, and have read countless books on Catholicism, Christianity, Christian Science, Buddhism, Zen and Hinduism.

 

I say this not to brag (well, maybe a little; I could probably do pretty well on Jeopardy), but to let you know what type of person I am. I’ve written earlier that I’m planning to spend the first half of 2024 reading through Tolkien’s oeuvre, something which I haven’t done in several years now but never in the story’s internal chronological order. But what nonfiction to compliment Tolkien?

 

There are several ideas that appeal to me.

 

All kind of relate to the insane frenetic upside-down current state of the world we live in.

 

Two ideas are religious-oriented. I am coming more and more to the belief that Bergoglio is an anti-pope (or rather, I have the near-certainty future history, long after my lifetime, will regard him as one). I think he is doing incredible damage to the Catholic Church. Statistics show this. He’s the best thing to happen to the Eastern Orthodox Church, based on the numbers of Catholics entering the other lung of the church. Suffice it to say that not only do I dislike the direction the Catholic Church has been heading since 1965, I definitely despise what has happened in 2013 and after.

 

So one idea would be a deep dive into the history of the Catholic Church, pre-Vatican II. I am having trouble finding an unbiased tome, but detective work of this sort is part of the fun. Additionally, I’d like to read some of the early Church Fathers and some pre-1965 papal documents, particularly those of Pope Leo XIII and those of the early 20th century (i.e., the documents opposed to Modernism and Marxism).

 

The other would be an in-depth exploration of the Eastern Orthodox Church, particularly the 1054 theological split which separated the two parts of the Church. Sure, it has its own set of issues dealing with our evil liquid modernity, but it seems to be doing a better job sparring with it. It seems a more manly, vigorous, ascetical system of belief and practice, and, for better or worse, it has no Pope or papal system of governance.

 

My semi-serious reading of Nostradamus over the summer has sparked an interest in 15th-16th century Europe. Kings, Queens, Empires, Wars, Intrigue – the O.G. Game of Thrones. The Hundred Years War, said to be more devastating to the continent than World War II. The religious divisions and upheavals. The great Spanish Empire and its proselytizational efforts in the New World. Interesting in a way to intelligently distract me from the constant, never-ending bread and circuses of today’s world.

 

Then there is a 180-degree turn – or return – into physics. My youngest is now taking a chemistry course in high school and I am helping her with it, and it’s all coming back: Sub-atomic particles, electron shells and orbitals, the Periodic Table. Ah, my first love! I told her how, way, way back in the early 90s when I was at Seton Hall, I’d dream of exploring this microscopic world. Rutherford’s probing of the gold foil with alpha and beta particles – which my daughter is familiar with (or at least had to know for a test and probably has forgotten) – mesmerized young me. So she said, “Dad, why don’t you get a book on this stuff and start reading about it again.” Good idea! I have a couple already, in fact, unread on the book shelf behind me.

 

Then I read on Twitter a few days ago this simple question: What skill do you have that would be valuable if the whole world fell apart? I knew exactly what the questioner was getting at, and I was also immediately dismayed at my lack of response to it. All this reading … to what purpose? What good would knowledge of 16th-century Europe bring if the apocalypse that so many in power seem to be superhumanly striving for actually happened? Yeah, I read 77 books on war, but could I even lead myself in battle?

 

I discussed this with the Mrs, who was also intrigued by the question. She suggested that I’d be great at making detailed plans to implement should catastrophe befall. “That’s the first thing you should do. It’d be good for your peace of mind, no matter how far-fetched the situation.” Then she said I should learn some survival skills, some first aide skills, “Boy Scout handbook”-type stuff. I agreed. “Trauma response,” a subject I always wanted to explore since it factored so heavily in the two manuscripts I wrote and I had to fudge most of it. Lastly she said, “How about plants? Gardening? It would be a relaxing hobby and would be valuable if food became scarce.” Hmm. My buddy started a garden as a response to the Covid lockdowns, and now it covers nearly half his backyard.

 

So, my nonfiction choices for 2024 seem to be:

 

- Pre-1965 Catholicism

 - Eastern Orthodoxy

 - 15th-16th Century European Game of Thrones

 - Sub-atomic Particles

 - Survival Skills

 - Or, possibly, some other subject that hits from out of the blue in the next 10 days …

 

And if I can’t decide on any of those, I have a second book on Nostradamus I could begin January 1 as a placeholder of sorts …




No comments:

Post a Comment