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Jordan Binkerd (567 KP) rated Gideon's Angel in Books
Aug 15, 2019
Note: this review is transposted from my personal review blog, and so was originally written several years ago. I figured if I reposted it here, someone might actually read it….
I received my copy of Gideon’s Angel through the Goodreads FirstReads program. This in no way influences my review, except to ensure that I was able to get ahold of this book and thus review it. I have to say, I really enjoyed this one. I want to describe it as “steampunk,” but my understanding is that steampunk is usually set in the 1800s (or at least that level of tech and society) whereas this work is firmly set in 1653. If there’s already a term for pseudo-historical fiction with a fantasy touch set in that timeframe, I apologize for not knowing what it is and using it accordingly.
Things are not going well for Richard Treadwell. The English Civil War is over, the King’s Cavaliers lost to the forces of Parliament and Oliver Cromwell, and Charles I has been executed. Treadwell has managed to escape the destruction of his cause, and has spent the past eight years in exile in France, performing a delicate balancing act between loyalty to his exiled king* and his employer, Cardinal Mazarin. When Mazarin informs him that someone is using the forces of Hell to tip the balance in their favor and asks him to spy on the exile court to find out if it is one of the king’s supporters, Treadwell decides that it’s time to get out of Paris. He accepts a mission for one of the king’s more militant supporters that will take him back to his beloved England–to lead a Royalist uprising, one last try to oust Cromwell and his Puritan cronies. Treadwell has other business to tend to as well, including a wife who by now probably considers herself a widow. Unfortunately for Treadwell’s simple worldview, it soon becomes clear that Cromwell’s power is the only thing preventing the more radical Puritan elements from running roughshod over the whole country. Worse still, a demon from the pits of Hell has appeared to a radical Puritan sect masquerading as an angel of light and ordering the death of Cromwell so that the Kingdom of God may be fulfilled. Now instead of assassinating Cromwell Treadwell will be forced to save him–if he can find a way to fight the forces of Hell, gain some allies in his quest, and avoid d’Artagnan, a young Musketeer dispatched by the Cardinal to bear him back to Paris….
I really enjoyed this book. It’s not exactly “high literature,” but I think I’ve very well established that I care far more about a work’s entertainment value than whatever it is critics look for. The world Beal creates here feels very real, slipping in background historical information without making you feel like you’ve been lectured. Some readers will probably wish for more background on the English Civil War, and that’s fine. If they care that much, there are numerous good books on the subject. If they don’t, there’s a Wikipedia article that should give you a good rundown on what happened. Beal manages to evoke seventeenth-century London in all its grimy glory, much as it would have actually been aside from the fact that all the magic we dismiss as superstition is actually going on behind the scenes. Moreover, this magic very much resembles what you would find depicted in the folklore of the era without obvious modern embellishment. I’m not really all that well versed in the history of the Freemasons, so I can’t accurately speak to how they were portrayed here except to say that I very much doubt their claim to date back to the builders of the pyramids. Then again, I doubt they have the tools to summon demons too, so maybe I shouldn’t be too critical. Secondary characters generally proved to be interestingly complex, especially Billy Chard, but I am seeing criticism of how the female characters in the book act. They aren’t weak characters by any means, but they are constrained by their roles in society. Treadwell’s wife has pragmatically joined her fate to that of the officer who took over Treadwell’s land when he was banished and is pregnant with his child. Is she weak for this? Or is she a strong female doing what she has to in order to protect what is left of her family? Treadwell’s Parisian mistress follows him to England rather than stay in Paris and face the scandal of their liasion alone. Weak, for needing Treadwell by her side? Or strong, for following him into whatever dangers he may be facing? Finally, Isabelle decides to follow her father and the rest of Treadwell’s band into battle against the forces of Darkness, deciding that it would be better to fall by his side than live on without him. Possibly a sign of weakness, but look at her situation realistically. She and her father were driven from Spain for their Jewish heritage, her mother dying along the way. Jews do not fare well in the Christian world of the seventeenth century, not even in England. The lot of a young woman alone in the world is already hard enough in this time without adding the burden of religious and ethnic persecution. She would have no respectable means of supporting herself, and could conceivably find herself forced into prostitution–on her own if she was lucky, as no more than a slave if she was not. Is preferring death in battle to such a fate a sign of weakness or of strength? She certainly has no trouble speaking her mind, and in fact berates Treadwell severely for endangering her father when they first meet. I suppose I can understand where some people would find these characters and their portrayal to be weak and sexist, but I respectfully disagree. I submit that instead they are strong characters reacting realistically to a world where women are not treated equally–in fact, I would have more of a problem with them if they demonstrated anachronistic modern sensibilities.** The ending was a little deus ex machina, but on the whole I didn’t mind. I would say that I want to read a sequel, but I don’t think the author could come up with anything to top this in terms of personal impact on the characters–Treadwell’s internal conflict between hating Cromwell and having to save him is very well done, and I fear Beal would prove unable to find something equally interesting as a follow up. We never really got to find out what happened to Treadwell back during the Thirty Years War that introduced him to the world of angels and demons, so I could see maybe writing that up….I’d buy it, anyway.
CONTENT: R-rated language, occasionally harsh but I would argue not gratuitous. Moderately explicit sexual content, as you would expect from a work in this vein.*** A fair amount of violence, from both man and demon. Not usually too gory in its description. There is also a good deal of occult content, as the villains are summoning a demon they believe to be an angel. This demon’s lesser minions dog Treadwell and his friends, and there are multiple encounters with them. One is implied to be a golem, others appear as strange amalgamations of beast(s) and man. For me, this is adequately balanced by the recognition that, as powerful as the forces of Darkness are, God is far more powerful than they. Bottom line: if you’re mature enough to handle the other content, I don’t believe the occult elements should prove to be an issue.
*Charles I was executed, while his son Charles II went into exile. Just in case you were concerned with the historical accuracy of the book. So far as I can tell, this is pretty accurate. You know, aside from the demons and fictional characters roaming London…..
**Please understand, I’m neither defending nor endorsing the inequality of the seventeenth century. Neither is Clifford Beal, for that matter. I’m simply pointing out that it was how it was, and this was the world the characters would have come from. I’m all for equality, but to whitewash history and pretend it was different from it was….that way lies dangerous waters.
***This evokes more than anything a supernatural-tinged Alexandre Dumas novel for me….and you know how bawdry his musketeers could be when they wanted to be.
Original post: https://jordanbinkerd.wordpress.com/2013/10/24/review-gideons-angel-by-clifford-beal/
I received my copy of Gideon’s Angel through the Goodreads FirstReads program. This in no way influences my review, except to ensure that I was able to get ahold of this book and thus review it. I have to say, I really enjoyed this one. I want to describe it as “steampunk,” but my understanding is that steampunk is usually set in the 1800s (or at least that level of tech and society) whereas this work is firmly set in 1653. If there’s already a term for pseudo-historical fiction with a fantasy touch set in that timeframe, I apologize for not knowing what it is and using it accordingly.
Things are not going well for Richard Treadwell. The English Civil War is over, the King’s Cavaliers lost to the forces of Parliament and Oliver Cromwell, and Charles I has been executed. Treadwell has managed to escape the destruction of his cause, and has spent the past eight years in exile in France, performing a delicate balancing act between loyalty to his exiled king* and his employer, Cardinal Mazarin. When Mazarin informs him that someone is using the forces of Hell to tip the balance in their favor and asks him to spy on the exile court to find out if it is one of the king’s supporters, Treadwell decides that it’s time to get out of Paris. He accepts a mission for one of the king’s more militant supporters that will take him back to his beloved England–to lead a Royalist uprising, one last try to oust Cromwell and his Puritan cronies. Treadwell has other business to tend to as well, including a wife who by now probably considers herself a widow. Unfortunately for Treadwell’s simple worldview, it soon becomes clear that Cromwell’s power is the only thing preventing the more radical Puritan elements from running roughshod over the whole country. Worse still, a demon from the pits of Hell has appeared to a radical Puritan sect masquerading as an angel of light and ordering the death of Cromwell so that the Kingdom of God may be fulfilled. Now instead of assassinating Cromwell Treadwell will be forced to save him–if he can find a way to fight the forces of Hell, gain some allies in his quest, and avoid d’Artagnan, a young Musketeer dispatched by the Cardinal to bear him back to Paris….
I really enjoyed this book. It’s not exactly “high literature,” but I think I’ve very well established that I care far more about a work’s entertainment value than whatever it is critics look for. The world Beal creates here feels very real, slipping in background historical information without making you feel like you’ve been lectured. Some readers will probably wish for more background on the English Civil War, and that’s fine. If they care that much, there are numerous good books on the subject. If they don’t, there’s a Wikipedia article that should give you a good rundown on what happened. Beal manages to evoke seventeenth-century London in all its grimy glory, much as it would have actually been aside from the fact that all the magic we dismiss as superstition is actually going on behind the scenes. Moreover, this magic very much resembles what you would find depicted in the folklore of the era without obvious modern embellishment. I’m not really all that well versed in the history of the Freemasons, so I can’t accurately speak to how they were portrayed here except to say that I very much doubt their claim to date back to the builders of the pyramids. Then again, I doubt they have the tools to summon demons too, so maybe I shouldn’t be too critical. Secondary characters generally proved to be interestingly complex, especially Billy Chard, but I am seeing criticism of how the female characters in the book act. They aren’t weak characters by any means, but they are constrained by their roles in society. Treadwell’s wife has pragmatically joined her fate to that of the officer who took over Treadwell’s land when he was banished and is pregnant with his child. Is she weak for this? Or is she a strong female doing what she has to in order to protect what is left of her family? Treadwell’s Parisian mistress follows him to England rather than stay in Paris and face the scandal of their liasion alone. Weak, for needing Treadwell by her side? Or strong, for following him into whatever dangers he may be facing? Finally, Isabelle decides to follow her father and the rest of Treadwell’s band into battle against the forces of Darkness, deciding that it would be better to fall by his side than live on without him. Possibly a sign of weakness, but look at her situation realistically. She and her father were driven from Spain for their Jewish heritage, her mother dying along the way. Jews do not fare well in the Christian world of the seventeenth century, not even in England. The lot of a young woman alone in the world is already hard enough in this time without adding the burden of religious and ethnic persecution. She would have no respectable means of supporting herself, and could conceivably find herself forced into prostitution–on her own if she was lucky, as no more than a slave if she was not. Is preferring death in battle to such a fate a sign of weakness or of strength? She certainly has no trouble speaking her mind, and in fact berates Treadwell severely for endangering her father when they first meet. I suppose I can understand where some people would find these characters and their portrayal to be weak and sexist, but I respectfully disagree. I submit that instead they are strong characters reacting realistically to a world where women are not treated equally–in fact, I would have more of a problem with them if they demonstrated anachronistic modern sensibilities.** The ending was a little deus ex machina, but on the whole I didn’t mind. I would say that I want to read a sequel, but I don’t think the author could come up with anything to top this in terms of personal impact on the characters–Treadwell’s internal conflict between hating Cromwell and having to save him is very well done, and I fear Beal would prove unable to find something equally interesting as a follow up. We never really got to find out what happened to Treadwell back during the Thirty Years War that introduced him to the world of angels and demons, so I could see maybe writing that up….I’d buy it, anyway.
CONTENT: R-rated language, occasionally harsh but I would argue not gratuitous. Moderately explicit sexual content, as you would expect from a work in this vein.*** A fair amount of violence, from both man and demon. Not usually too gory in its description. There is also a good deal of occult content, as the villains are summoning a demon they believe to be an angel. This demon’s lesser minions dog Treadwell and his friends, and there are multiple encounters with them. One is implied to be a golem, others appear as strange amalgamations of beast(s) and man. For me, this is adequately balanced by the recognition that, as powerful as the forces of Darkness are, God is far more powerful than they. Bottom line: if you’re mature enough to handle the other content, I don’t believe the occult elements should prove to be an issue.
*Charles I was executed, while his son Charles II went into exile. Just in case you were concerned with the historical accuracy of the book. So far as I can tell, this is pretty accurate. You know, aside from the demons and fictional characters roaming London…..
**Please understand, I’m neither defending nor endorsing the inequality of the seventeenth century. Neither is Clifford Beal, for that matter. I’m simply pointing out that it was how it was, and this was the world the characters would have come from. I’m all for equality, but to whitewash history and pretend it was different from it was….that way lies dangerous waters.
***This evokes more than anything a supernatural-tinged Alexandre Dumas novel for me….and you know how bawdry his musketeers could be when they wanted to be.
Original post: https://jordanbinkerd.wordpress.com/2013/10/24/review-gideons-angel-by-clifford-beal/
ELLDBRY (0 KP) rated The Godfather (1972) in Movies
Apr 16, 2020
10/10
Contains spoilers, click to show
"I believe in America…."
What is it about someone you care about that sets them apart? Are they family, a friend, or someone you feel just needs help? What causes you to go the extra mile to put someone else ahead of yourself? You may find the answers in your religion, your upbringing, or in movies. For example, say your daughter goes out on a date with a guy and she is violently beaten by him and one of his friends. You go see her in the hospital and she cannot even weep because of the pain. So trying to keep your cool you press charges and try by the legal means to bring the young men to justice. It doesn't happen, their sentences are suspended. That may make you lose faith in the system that is supposed to protect you. So now you go to someone else who could help. This person is a bigshot, a pezzonovante in his own way but outside the system. You explain what happened and what you did, and all he says is 'why didn't you come to me first?' How many times in your life have some of us gone to others that don't care and asked for help instead of going to the ones that actually care. And the problem is solved. Imagine for another example that your father is in the hospital and men are coming to kill him. And you are the only one there that can help him. Imagine that you had your own dreams and your own goals that were different to what your father wanted. But in this moment you put all that aside to help your father survive. You assure him that everything will be ok and you are with him now. You bluff out the men trying to kill him and your father is saved. Most of us may never have to defend our dads from someone trying to kill him. But seeing someone laying helpless in a hospital bed in need of help we can all relate to. Every son, every daughter, every parent, every sibling, every friend. You see everybody wants to talk about the gangster mafia element of The Godfather, and say that is what it is all about. But family plays an even bigger role in the story by being the driving force behind the main characters. Family, love, loyalty, sacrifice all these elements are used in the movie to bring a standard boring mafia shootout movie to the level of greatest movie of all time. Francis Ford Coppola used as much he could to bring this point home. The wedding scene was not made up by any means but instead taken from other weddings witnessed by every Italian who has ever been to a wedding. Bringing envelopes filled with money to the bride, nieces dancing on the feet of uncle's, people waiting in line to see the father of the bride, sandwiches in white paper being tossed around. 'two gabagool, one proshootoh!' Then go to the kitchen to make spaghetti. Need a recipe? Try 'a little of oil then fry some garlic, throw in some tomatoes and tomato paste, fry it, make sure it does not stick, get it to boil, put in all your sausage and meatballs, add some wine and a little bit of sugar and that's the trick.' That recipe has been in Italian kitchens long before the cameras rolled. Need an idea for some quality time with the kids, well go to work do what you have to do and pick up some cannolis before you get home. Just remember to leave the gun and take the cannolis. Coppola always said he had to be good or no cannolis when his dad got home to share with the family. Coppola also put in his own family to work, his dad scored the movie, his sister Talia was Connie, and his daughter played the baby in the baptism scene. The family was on both sides of the family. But for me the movie revolves around Don Vito Corleone and Marlon Brando. Mario Puzo based the character of Don Corleone on his mother, everytime the Don opened his mouth all that came out was the passion of his mother, her wisdom, her ruthlessness, and her unconquerable love for her family and for life itself. Therefore only the greatest actor of the day will do to play the part. Coppola agreed and suggested either Brando or Laurence Olivier. Olivier was considered and it would have been interesting but he eventually passed on the role. Only two men wanted Brando, Coppola and Puzo. Brando had a history of being difficult and the studio executives nearly vetoed his casting. Coppola was able to make a deal with in order to cast Brando. Brando had to agree to do the movie for nothing, he had to put up a bond in order to cover cost overruns, and he had to do a screen test. They only got to the screen test because Brando transformed himself from a forty year old man into a sixty year old mafia don before their eyes in a matter of minutes. When the executives saw the footage they said ‘no no no, WOW THAT'S INCREDIBLE!’ Brando would be The Godfather. But Brando still needed a little extra help. If you watch the movie, everytime Don Corleone is speaking and stops and looks off in the distance he is reading from a card with his lines on it. He still won an oscar though. Two scenes are my favorite in the movie. One is the scene in the restaurant, I feel like I don’t need to explain it, because it is the most famous scene. Just know that without that scene the movie would not have existed. When you shoot a movie, the scenes are viewed day by day by the studio decision makers. They were hating what they were seeing, everything shot before the restaurant scene was met with cruel criticism by everyone on the outside not working on the movie. All Coppola could do was show them this scene and the movie was not only saved but validated. There are moments in the movie that other scenes build to, the restaurant was one of those scenes. You know of it’s importance because of everything that preceded it. The other scene is the meeting. Don Corleone stands before the other mafia dons and surrenders to them and their wishes. He reasons with them in order to come to a peaceful solution. But there is a catch: if you mess with my other son or if ‘he’s struck by a bolt of lightning. Then I’m going to blame some of the people in this room and that I do not forgive. So with that aside let me say that I swear, on the souls of my grandchildren, that I will not be the one that breaks the peace that we’ve made here today.’ There is a time for peace and a time for reckoning. This scene is my favorite because you believe him, you go along with his plea for peace. But the other dons do not realize it is not a surrender but a tactical retreat.
So the movie went on to make a lot of money, win a bunch of awards, and won it’s way on a bunch of lists that say it’s great. I was lucky enough to not know that when I first saw the movie. I saw it for what it was: a father and three sons. One son was intense and savage, another was sweet and innocent, another was conviving and calculating, the father was all those combined. But the father was the steadying force in all their lives. That is why when they all find out he was shot they react in ways we all would react. When you see the father lying in the street his second son is there to help but can’t, all he can do is cry and yell ‘papa.’ The first son nearly strong arms one of his father’s closest associates because he wants someone to beat up. The third son panics and tries to do whatever he can to help. That is for the audience, and that that’s how everyone relates. Finally, I’ll quote Martin Sheen: ‘The Godfather is the best filmmaking ever in the history of American cinema. There is nothing that speaks more to who we are, where we came from, what we stand for, and where we’re gonna go. That’s the work of a true genius.’ I agree. It is my favorite, of what I’ve seen of course.
".... Don Corleone."
What is it about someone you care about that sets them apart? Are they family, a friend, or someone you feel just needs help? What causes you to go the extra mile to put someone else ahead of yourself? You may find the answers in your religion, your upbringing, or in movies. For example, say your daughter goes out on a date with a guy and she is violently beaten by him and one of his friends. You go see her in the hospital and she cannot even weep because of the pain. So trying to keep your cool you press charges and try by the legal means to bring the young men to justice. It doesn't happen, their sentences are suspended. That may make you lose faith in the system that is supposed to protect you. So now you go to someone else who could help. This person is a bigshot, a pezzonovante in his own way but outside the system. You explain what happened and what you did, and all he says is 'why didn't you come to me first?' How many times in your life have some of us gone to others that don't care and asked for help instead of going to the ones that actually care. And the problem is solved. Imagine for another example that your father is in the hospital and men are coming to kill him. And you are the only one there that can help him. Imagine that you had your own dreams and your own goals that were different to what your father wanted. But in this moment you put all that aside to help your father survive. You assure him that everything will be ok and you are with him now. You bluff out the men trying to kill him and your father is saved. Most of us may never have to defend our dads from someone trying to kill him. But seeing someone laying helpless in a hospital bed in need of help we can all relate to. Every son, every daughter, every parent, every sibling, every friend. You see everybody wants to talk about the gangster mafia element of The Godfather, and say that is what it is all about. But family plays an even bigger role in the story by being the driving force behind the main characters. Family, love, loyalty, sacrifice all these elements are used in the movie to bring a standard boring mafia shootout movie to the level of greatest movie of all time. Francis Ford Coppola used as much he could to bring this point home. The wedding scene was not made up by any means but instead taken from other weddings witnessed by every Italian who has ever been to a wedding. Bringing envelopes filled with money to the bride, nieces dancing on the feet of uncle's, people waiting in line to see the father of the bride, sandwiches in white paper being tossed around. 'two gabagool, one proshootoh!' Then go to the kitchen to make spaghetti. Need a recipe? Try 'a little of oil then fry some garlic, throw in some tomatoes and tomato paste, fry it, make sure it does not stick, get it to boil, put in all your sausage and meatballs, add some wine and a little bit of sugar and that's the trick.' That recipe has been in Italian kitchens long before the cameras rolled. Need an idea for some quality time with the kids, well go to work do what you have to do and pick up some cannolis before you get home. Just remember to leave the gun and take the cannolis. Coppola always said he had to be good or no cannolis when his dad got home to share with the family. Coppola also put in his own family to work, his dad scored the movie, his sister Talia was Connie, and his daughter played the baby in the baptism scene. The family was on both sides of the family. But for me the movie revolves around Don Vito Corleone and Marlon Brando. Mario Puzo based the character of Don Corleone on his mother, everytime the Don opened his mouth all that came out was the passion of his mother, her wisdom, her ruthlessness, and her unconquerable love for her family and for life itself. Therefore only the greatest actor of the day will do to play the part. Coppola agreed and suggested either Brando or Laurence Olivier. Olivier was considered and it would have been interesting but he eventually passed on the role. Only two men wanted Brando, Coppola and Puzo. Brando had a history of being difficult and the studio executives nearly vetoed his casting. Coppola was able to make a deal with in order to cast Brando. Brando had to agree to do the movie for nothing, he had to put up a bond in order to cover cost overruns, and he had to do a screen test. They only got to the screen test because Brando transformed himself from a forty year old man into a sixty year old mafia don before their eyes in a matter of minutes. When the executives saw the footage they said ‘no no no, WOW THAT'S INCREDIBLE!’ Brando would be The Godfather. But Brando still needed a little extra help. If you watch the movie, everytime Don Corleone is speaking and stops and looks off in the distance he is reading from a card with his lines on it. He still won an oscar though. Two scenes are my favorite in the movie. One is the scene in the restaurant, I feel like I don’t need to explain it, because it is the most famous scene. Just know that without that scene the movie would not have existed. When you shoot a movie, the scenes are viewed day by day by the studio decision makers. They were hating what they were seeing, everything shot before the restaurant scene was met with cruel criticism by everyone on the outside not working on the movie. All Coppola could do was show them this scene and the movie was not only saved but validated. There are moments in the movie that other scenes build to, the restaurant was one of those scenes. You know of it’s importance because of everything that preceded it. The other scene is the meeting. Don Corleone stands before the other mafia dons and surrenders to them and their wishes. He reasons with them in order to come to a peaceful solution. But there is a catch: if you mess with my other son or if ‘he’s struck by a bolt of lightning. Then I’m going to blame some of the people in this room and that I do not forgive. So with that aside let me say that I swear, on the souls of my grandchildren, that I will not be the one that breaks the peace that we’ve made here today.’ There is a time for peace and a time for reckoning. This scene is my favorite because you believe him, you go along with his plea for peace. But the other dons do not realize it is not a surrender but a tactical retreat.
So the movie went on to make a lot of money, win a bunch of awards, and won it’s way on a bunch of lists that say it’s great. I was lucky enough to not know that when I first saw the movie. I saw it for what it was: a father and three sons. One son was intense and savage, another was sweet and innocent, another was conviving and calculating, the father was all those combined. But the father was the steadying force in all their lives. That is why when they all find out he was shot they react in ways we all would react. When you see the father lying in the street his second son is there to help but can’t, all he can do is cry and yell ‘papa.’ The first son nearly strong arms one of his father’s closest associates because he wants someone to beat up. The third son panics and tries to do whatever he can to help. That is for the audience, and that that’s how everyone relates. Finally, I’ll quote Martin Sheen: ‘The Godfather is the best filmmaking ever in the history of American cinema. There is nothing that speaks more to who we are, where we came from, what we stand for, and where we’re gonna go. That’s the work of a true genius.’ I agree. It is my favorite, of what I’ve seen of course.
".... Don Corleone."
Cody Cook (8 KP) rated Everlasting Dominion: A Theology of the Old Testament in Books
Jun 29, 2018
In Everlasting Dominion: A Theology of the Old Testament (Nashville: Broadman and Holman, 2006), Eugene H. Merrill sets out to provide a theology of the Old Testament which represents the O.T. as a consistent whole that has God as its ultimate source. As such, he supports a high view of biblical inspiration as verbal: “The word of God to the prophets was verbal; and what they spoke and wrote, therefore, was also verbal. The means by which the verbalizing was effected is never disclosed, nor is it necessary to know. The point is that the prophetic word, the highest form of divine revelation, was recognized at the time to be the words of God, a view maintained by virtually unanimous consensus in Jewish and Christian tradition until the inroads of modern criticism.”
Insofar as Merrill is a Christian writing about the Old Testament's theology, this creates a dilemma in regard to the role the New Testament is allowed to play in his interpretation. Merrill acknowledges this from the get go:
“Old Testament theology is the study of biblical theology that employs the methods of that discipline to the Old Testament alone while being aware of the limitations inherent in not addressing the New Testament witness in any comprehensive way. This delimitation can be justified on the grounds that the Old Testament speaks its own message, one that is legitimate and authoritative in every sense of the term even if, from the Christian viewpoint, its message is not ultimately complete.”
As such, his work attempts to focus on what the Old Testament says on its own, though he occasionally appeals to New Testament ideas as a means of providing an additional witness to his interpretation.
Merrill tends to provide basic level interpretation in the canonical order of the Old Testament books. As such, little of his exegesis is particularly creative. However, he does have one unique idea which comes up throughout the book and indeed inspired the title-- the idea that man was made by God as an intermediary for God's dominion over the world:
“The crowning work of creation was the appearance of mankind on the sixth day (Gen. 1:26–28). He is said to be in the image and likeness of God, but the grammar permits and theology favors the idea that he was created as his image and likeness, that is, as God's representative on earth... [This passage] is also the clearest expression of the divine purpose in creation. After all things else had been made and put into their several positions of function and interrelationship, the Lord said, 'Let Us make man [as] Our image, according to Our likeness. They will rule' (Gen. 1:26). The significance of this for communicating a (if not the) major theme of Old Testament theology cannot be overstated, and the fact that it is the first divinely articulated expression of the reason for man's existence makes it doubly significant. What is lacking apparently after the whole cosmos has been spoken into existence is its management, a caretaker as it were who will govern it all according to the will of the Creator. He could have done it himself without mediation, but for reasons never revealed in the sacred record, God elected to reign through a subordinate, a surrogate king responsible only to him.”
Merrill explains what had been lost in this divine intention after the Fall: “No longer did man have dominion over all things; instead, he abdicated his role as sovereign and worshipped what he should have ruled.” However, he still highlights partial fulfillments of the divine plan even after the Fall, such as in the Israelite monarchy:
“The creation mandate that mankind should 'be fruitful, multiply, fill the earth, and subdue it' and 'rule the fish of the sea, the birds of the sky, and every creature that crawls on the earth' (Gen. 1:28) finds tangible expression even if only in a highly preliminary and anticipatory manner. David and his dynastic successors never exhibited this kind of universal dominion, of course, but the limited success they did enjoy, especially under Solomon (cf. 1 Kings 4:20–34), was a foretaste of the splendor, glory, and power of his descendants yet to come at the end of human history.”
Of course, this idea of human dominion as a vice-regent of God would only find its final fulfillment in Christ, the second Adam and the second David:
“If paradise was lost at the fall, it will be regained at the re-creation, not least in the restoration of man's glory as the vice-regent of the King of kings.”
The book seems to go out of its way to contrast the wild speculation of liberal theology, resulting in a work which is so straight-forward as to be dull. This is by no means always the case with Merrill's writings, as his Historical Survey of the Old Testament was one of the most interesting books I read as a new Christian. In Everlasting Dominion, however, where skeptical scholarship always assumes that the text is hiding something, Merrill takes it at face value. The result is a theology of the Old Testament which is more grounded, but that also often fails to soar to the heights that the text might allow for. Instead of elucidation and theologizing, Merrill tends to resort to extended (and I do mean extended) summary of the Hebrew canon.
The one major exception to this tendency is in Merrill's discussion of dominion, which we discussed above in detail. However, more work could certainly have been done on this topic, particularly in regard to how Jesus brings the idea to its fulfillment. Since it is Merrill's goal to explain the Old Testament with as little light from the New as possible, it is difficult to fault him for this. But it's also hard to fault the reader for wanting more when he reads tantalizing sections like this:
“What we propose in the following comments is done with a great deal of tentativeness since, as far as we can determine, we are virtually alone in making the case that Jesus, in his earthly ministry, frequently performed miraculous works to demonstrate not just his full deity but also his role as Urmensch, the second Adam who came to display in character and life what God had intended as the ideal for the whole human race. Without pursuing the biblical arguments for a full-blown Christology that is sensitive to both his divine and human natures, let it be said that there is universal consensus that the New Testament presents Jesus not only as God but also as perfect man.”
That being said, it does seem like an exaggeration to claim that Genesis 1:26 is the key text to understanding Old Testament theology. That it is a major theme, particularly in relation to its underemphasis by most biblical commentators, does not by any means strain credulity. It also seems to be in the back of the mind of many New Testament authors who emphasize restoration of the Kingdom of God involving our reigning with Christ and inheriting the eternal life and dominion over the world which was originally connected with our Edenic charge.
In the final analysis, Everlasting Dominion provides a good straight-forward overview of the Old Testament, but simply doesn't provide enough insight to warrant its nearly 700 pages.
Insofar as Merrill is a Christian writing about the Old Testament's theology, this creates a dilemma in regard to the role the New Testament is allowed to play in his interpretation. Merrill acknowledges this from the get go:
“Old Testament theology is the study of biblical theology that employs the methods of that discipline to the Old Testament alone while being aware of the limitations inherent in not addressing the New Testament witness in any comprehensive way. This delimitation can be justified on the grounds that the Old Testament speaks its own message, one that is legitimate and authoritative in every sense of the term even if, from the Christian viewpoint, its message is not ultimately complete.”
As such, his work attempts to focus on what the Old Testament says on its own, though he occasionally appeals to New Testament ideas as a means of providing an additional witness to his interpretation.
Merrill tends to provide basic level interpretation in the canonical order of the Old Testament books. As such, little of his exegesis is particularly creative. However, he does have one unique idea which comes up throughout the book and indeed inspired the title-- the idea that man was made by God as an intermediary for God's dominion over the world:
“The crowning work of creation was the appearance of mankind on the sixth day (Gen. 1:26–28). He is said to be in the image and likeness of God, but the grammar permits and theology favors the idea that he was created as his image and likeness, that is, as God's representative on earth... [This passage] is also the clearest expression of the divine purpose in creation. After all things else had been made and put into their several positions of function and interrelationship, the Lord said, 'Let Us make man [as] Our image, according to Our likeness. They will rule' (Gen. 1:26). The significance of this for communicating a (if not the) major theme of Old Testament theology cannot be overstated, and the fact that it is the first divinely articulated expression of the reason for man's existence makes it doubly significant. What is lacking apparently after the whole cosmos has been spoken into existence is its management, a caretaker as it were who will govern it all according to the will of the Creator. He could have done it himself without mediation, but for reasons never revealed in the sacred record, God elected to reign through a subordinate, a surrogate king responsible only to him.”
Merrill explains what had been lost in this divine intention after the Fall: “No longer did man have dominion over all things; instead, he abdicated his role as sovereign and worshipped what he should have ruled.” However, he still highlights partial fulfillments of the divine plan even after the Fall, such as in the Israelite monarchy:
“The creation mandate that mankind should 'be fruitful, multiply, fill the earth, and subdue it' and 'rule the fish of the sea, the birds of the sky, and every creature that crawls on the earth' (Gen. 1:28) finds tangible expression even if only in a highly preliminary and anticipatory manner. David and his dynastic successors never exhibited this kind of universal dominion, of course, but the limited success they did enjoy, especially under Solomon (cf. 1 Kings 4:20–34), was a foretaste of the splendor, glory, and power of his descendants yet to come at the end of human history.”
Of course, this idea of human dominion as a vice-regent of God would only find its final fulfillment in Christ, the second Adam and the second David:
“If paradise was lost at the fall, it will be regained at the re-creation, not least in the restoration of man's glory as the vice-regent of the King of kings.”
The book seems to go out of its way to contrast the wild speculation of liberal theology, resulting in a work which is so straight-forward as to be dull. This is by no means always the case with Merrill's writings, as his Historical Survey of the Old Testament was one of the most interesting books I read as a new Christian. In Everlasting Dominion, however, where skeptical scholarship always assumes that the text is hiding something, Merrill takes it at face value. The result is a theology of the Old Testament which is more grounded, but that also often fails to soar to the heights that the text might allow for. Instead of elucidation and theologizing, Merrill tends to resort to extended (and I do mean extended) summary of the Hebrew canon.
The one major exception to this tendency is in Merrill's discussion of dominion, which we discussed above in detail. However, more work could certainly have been done on this topic, particularly in regard to how Jesus brings the idea to its fulfillment. Since it is Merrill's goal to explain the Old Testament with as little light from the New as possible, it is difficult to fault him for this. But it's also hard to fault the reader for wanting more when he reads tantalizing sections like this:
“What we propose in the following comments is done with a great deal of tentativeness since, as far as we can determine, we are virtually alone in making the case that Jesus, in his earthly ministry, frequently performed miraculous works to demonstrate not just his full deity but also his role as Urmensch, the second Adam who came to display in character and life what God had intended as the ideal for the whole human race. Without pursuing the biblical arguments for a full-blown Christology that is sensitive to both his divine and human natures, let it be said that there is universal consensus that the New Testament presents Jesus not only as God but also as perfect man.”
That being said, it does seem like an exaggeration to claim that Genesis 1:26 is the key text to understanding Old Testament theology. That it is a major theme, particularly in relation to its underemphasis by most biblical commentators, does not by any means strain credulity. It also seems to be in the back of the mind of many New Testament authors who emphasize restoration of the Kingdom of God involving our reigning with Christ and inheriting the eternal life and dominion over the world which was originally connected with our Edenic charge.
In the final analysis, Everlasting Dominion provides a good straight-forward overview of the Old Testament, but simply doesn't provide enough insight to warrant its nearly 700 pages.
Kirk Bage (1775 KP) rated Tales from the Loop in TV
Jan 22, 2021
Such is the competition for our attention on the major streaming services, and such is the daunting depth of choice, that sometimes something of real quality can slip through the net for a while. I like to think that eventually, everything gets the audience it deserves, because eventually enough people that appreciated it will find it and pass it on. But it is apparent that good things can go under the radar very easily for one reason or another.
Everything about the production and presentation of Amazon’s Tales From the Loop suggests they thought it might be a bigger hit, or at least they had enough faith in it to let it be different from the mass appeal conventions that apply to sci-fi shows. They have proved this many times in recent years, with shows like The Man In the High Castle and The Expanse favouring patient and mature story-telling over interminable flashbangs and whizzpops usually found in the more action based sci-fi on Netflix and others (The Handmaid’s Tale being another notable exception).
Having raised myself auto-didactically on the oldest traditions of science fiction writing in novel and short story form since my teenage years, I can say with some amateur authority that the point of using sci-fi ideas was always about the people and the parallels to social reality and politics that could be highlighted by putting them in a “what-if” situation. The lazer guns and spaceships and evil aliens were much more a product of Hollywood, and still are. Great science fiction writing can and usually does revolve around a very simple change to the world we know, an inversion or a convention or a technology that turns how we live on its head. At its best it is philosophical and moral poetry.
Tales From the Loop, inspired by the beguiling paintings of Swedish Artist Simon Stålenhag aspires to return to these principles, eschewing breakneck pace and unnecessary exposition at every turn – it is entirely content to confuse and sometimes even bore you with its patient, melancholy approach, testing almost if you are worthy to reach the prize of deeper meaning buried away in the final few episodes.
The idea of Stålenhag’s work is to juxtapose a familiar and mundane landscape with a detail of technology that does not exist in our reality. Often it is something broken, run-down or neglected, leaving a strange sadness and beauty behind that has you wondering who once made this and what was it for, and why is it no longer loved? The untold stories objects and hidden lives, secrets and desires that have been lost, is what this sensitive and delicate show is about. It is about the interconnection of lives caught in time, and the sci-fi / tech conceit is only the hanger that coat is put on. Which… I love.
The surface idea is that we are looking at the inhabitants of a small American town that once relied on farming and community, but now has been changed by the presence of an underground facility that deals with experimental physics and finding ways to make impossible things possible. They call it The Loop. It is never fully explained where it came from, or why, or what it is truly capable of – the mystery is always allowed to remain mostly a mystery – which, again, I love!
Many people in the town work at The Loop and rely on it for their livelihoods and collective economy, including Jonathon Pryce and Rebecca Hall, who are ostensibly the show’s main characters. But most folk have no idea what is really going on. Each episode focuses on one or two members of the community that interweave with one another; several important people begin as background dressing and become more prevalent as the full story of their lives and connections unfolds. But no one character is in every episode… which, you know, I love.
Their lives, that seem simple at first glance, are revealed to be complex tapestries of emotion and personal history, revolving around how The Loop has affected them and the things they love. The progression and unfolding of the detail is so deliberate and usually under-explained that very often you don’t realise the effect the full image will have. And when it does catch up with you it becomes a very moving and meaningful experience. Characters that you don’t understand or even like at first come into sharper focus as we reach the climax of the season and grow to learn why they are the way they are. The story arcs of Pryce and Hall in particular are very satisfying, tragic yet utterly beautiful to comprehend.
A lot of the criticism you will see about the show will concentrate on how slow it all is. I am totally convinced this is a deliberate artistic choice to weed out the thrill junkies. They are very welcome to go elsewhere, and it sounds as if many of them did, basing their reviews on one or two half watched episodes they couldn’t be bothered to engage with or wonder at. Which is why I think in time the respect for this as a work of art will come back around.
There is nothing to fault in the production at all. From the opening credits to the end of each episode, what you get is a very highly polished and considered look and feel, designed to evoke certain feelings over others – a wistfulness, an ennui, a bittersweet smile of knowing, perhaps. It invites you to watch patiently and relate, not to watch eagerly and expect… which, you know, I love.
The photography is crisp and well framed always; the music is subtle but effective; the dialogue is often sparing and well chosen (no detail is merely thrown away); and the direction is of a remarkably uniform vision, considering each episode is a different guest professional, including such prestigious names as Jodie Foster, Mark Romanek and Andrew Stanton.
I absolutely urge anyone that isn’t put off by a little sentiment to give this one a try. Sadness and regret in life is not something to shun and be afraid of, they are parts of human experience, and I love art that explores them as concepts. Put that art in a science fiction context and I am bound to love it even more. Like the final moments of Blade Runner, we know that one day all these moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. We have to take time to see the beauty while we can, even if that beauty is painful.
It may not be for you – I don’t think it is better or worse than other things, just more… me. There is every chance that if it isn’t you… you will hate it. If you do begin, however, please see it to the finish before casting judgement – the final episode directed by Jodie Foster is truly wonderful: a pay-off of such emotion after your investment of seven previous stories, tying it all together perfectly. Rarely have I felt so stupid for not understanding the point of something sooner, or been more pleased that I hadn’t. The final moment of the season is literally unforgettable, and gets richer in my imagination by the day.
Will there be a second season? There certainly could be. Was it enough of a success to justify the investment? Hmm, not sure. Either way, it either sits as a perfect self contained collection of fine, old-fashioned sci-fi stories, or I’d be happy to see it expand, as long as the temptation isn’t to listen to the negative reviews and pander to the fast-food mentality that has already rejected it without fully understanding it. Because nothing needs to change here. A thing of beauty, recommended to those who like beautiful and delicate things.
Everything about the production and presentation of Amazon’s Tales From the Loop suggests they thought it might be a bigger hit, or at least they had enough faith in it to let it be different from the mass appeal conventions that apply to sci-fi shows. They have proved this many times in recent years, with shows like The Man In the High Castle and The Expanse favouring patient and mature story-telling over interminable flashbangs and whizzpops usually found in the more action based sci-fi on Netflix and others (The Handmaid’s Tale being another notable exception).
Having raised myself auto-didactically on the oldest traditions of science fiction writing in novel and short story form since my teenage years, I can say with some amateur authority that the point of using sci-fi ideas was always about the people and the parallels to social reality and politics that could be highlighted by putting them in a “what-if” situation. The lazer guns and spaceships and evil aliens were much more a product of Hollywood, and still are. Great science fiction writing can and usually does revolve around a very simple change to the world we know, an inversion or a convention or a technology that turns how we live on its head. At its best it is philosophical and moral poetry.
Tales From the Loop, inspired by the beguiling paintings of Swedish Artist Simon Stålenhag aspires to return to these principles, eschewing breakneck pace and unnecessary exposition at every turn – it is entirely content to confuse and sometimes even bore you with its patient, melancholy approach, testing almost if you are worthy to reach the prize of deeper meaning buried away in the final few episodes.
The idea of Stålenhag’s work is to juxtapose a familiar and mundane landscape with a detail of technology that does not exist in our reality. Often it is something broken, run-down or neglected, leaving a strange sadness and beauty behind that has you wondering who once made this and what was it for, and why is it no longer loved? The untold stories objects and hidden lives, secrets and desires that have been lost, is what this sensitive and delicate show is about. It is about the interconnection of lives caught in time, and the sci-fi / tech conceit is only the hanger that coat is put on. Which… I love.
The surface idea is that we are looking at the inhabitants of a small American town that once relied on farming and community, but now has been changed by the presence of an underground facility that deals with experimental physics and finding ways to make impossible things possible. They call it The Loop. It is never fully explained where it came from, or why, or what it is truly capable of – the mystery is always allowed to remain mostly a mystery – which, again, I love!
Many people in the town work at The Loop and rely on it for their livelihoods and collective economy, including Jonathon Pryce and Rebecca Hall, who are ostensibly the show’s main characters. But most folk have no idea what is really going on. Each episode focuses on one or two members of the community that interweave with one another; several important people begin as background dressing and become more prevalent as the full story of their lives and connections unfolds. But no one character is in every episode… which, you know, I love.
Their lives, that seem simple at first glance, are revealed to be complex tapestries of emotion and personal history, revolving around how The Loop has affected them and the things they love. The progression and unfolding of the detail is so deliberate and usually under-explained that very often you don’t realise the effect the full image will have. And when it does catch up with you it becomes a very moving and meaningful experience. Characters that you don’t understand or even like at first come into sharper focus as we reach the climax of the season and grow to learn why they are the way they are. The story arcs of Pryce and Hall in particular are very satisfying, tragic yet utterly beautiful to comprehend.
A lot of the criticism you will see about the show will concentrate on how slow it all is. I am totally convinced this is a deliberate artistic choice to weed out the thrill junkies. They are very welcome to go elsewhere, and it sounds as if many of them did, basing their reviews on one or two half watched episodes they couldn’t be bothered to engage with or wonder at. Which is why I think in time the respect for this as a work of art will come back around.
There is nothing to fault in the production at all. From the opening credits to the end of each episode, what you get is a very highly polished and considered look and feel, designed to evoke certain feelings over others – a wistfulness, an ennui, a bittersweet smile of knowing, perhaps. It invites you to watch patiently and relate, not to watch eagerly and expect… which, you know, I love.
The photography is crisp and well framed always; the music is subtle but effective; the dialogue is often sparing and well chosen (no detail is merely thrown away); and the direction is of a remarkably uniform vision, considering each episode is a different guest professional, including such prestigious names as Jodie Foster, Mark Romanek and Andrew Stanton.
I absolutely urge anyone that isn’t put off by a little sentiment to give this one a try. Sadness and regret in life is not something to shun and be afraid of, they are parts of human experience, and I love art that explores them as concepts. Put that art in a science fiction context and I am bound to love it even more. Like the final moments of Blade Runner, we know that one day all these moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. We have to take time to see the beauty while we can, even if that beauty is painful.
It may not be for you – I don’t think it is better or worse than other things, just more… me. There is every chance that if it isn’t you… you will hate it. If you do begin, however, please see it to the finish before casting judgement – the final episode directed by Jodie Foster is truly wonderful: a pay-off of such emotion after your investment of seven previous stories, tying it all together perfectly. Rarely have I felt so stupid for not understanding the point of something sooner, or been more pleased that I hadn’t. The final moment of the season is literally unforgettable, and gets richer in my imagination by the day.
Will there be a second season? There certainly could be. Was it enough of a success to justify the investment? Hmm, not sure. Either way, it either sits as a perfect self contained collection of fine, old-fashioned sci-fi stories, or I’d be happy to see it expand, as long as the temptation isn’t to listen to the negative reviews and pander to the fast-food mentality that has already rejected it without fully understanding it. Because nothing needs to change here. A thing of beauty, recommended to those who like beautiful and delicate things.