June Reading Log

 

Tried a new morning routine that gave me less reading time but ensured I was exercising regularly. So it's another short one this month...and probably shorter next month! Take a look!

Reading Through the Fantastic Four- #324-355, Annual #22-23

Following a forgettable few issues of treading water (one storyline is literally just four issues of dream sequences, things kick back into high gear when the book is handed off to writer-artist Walt Simonson, whose run on Thor is still considered by many the high water mark for that book. Simonson brings a dynamic, sketch-like art style, a stark contrast to the Buscema-Sinnott-Byrne clean lines that defined the FF for so long. As for his writing, he's all action all the time, with big ideas, bold creativity, and too much plot to waste time on characterization.

When I first read Simonson's run years ago (which to this day is considered a top 5 run in the history of the title) I was underwhelmed by it, finding that his style just wasn't a great fit for this book. Following my reading this time around, I still find fan reception of his run overrated, but I've come around to aspects of his run.

Here's what I liked: Simonson's art style, which threw me for a loop the first time around, provides a necessary shakeup for a book that had gotten stale. It looks totally different from anything the FF had seen before—and while that was a criticism my first time around, now I see it as a necessary change. As for the stories, which see the FF crossing time and space almost constantly, the only creator who has infused so much imagination to the FF prior to this was Jack Kirby. Whether it's throwing the FF back in time to fight dinosaurs or replacing the team with Wolverine, Ghost Rider, Hulk, and Spider-Man (the cover of one of those issue's proclaimed the book "The World's Commercialist Magazine), nothing is too sacred to play with. Most of all, Simonson is just having fun with the book, never taking himself or the characters too seriously.

Two of my original criticisms endure, however. As someone who deeply loves these characters, I wish Simonson had spent more time on the soap opera aspects of the book, getting into the minds of the characters instead of just flinging them into action sequences. And the breakneck pacing of the book, while preferable to the drudgery the book had been stuck in previously, is so rapid that at times it feels like you don't even need to read the words, just look at the pictures.

All in all, the Simonson run is better than I remembered, but still not quite as stupendous as some would have you believe. As for what's next: we go full 1990s, as Tom DeFalco and Paul Ryan take control of the book in a run that would endure until its first reboot and would see the title embracing the best and mostly the worst of the era.

THE PASTOR AS SCHOLAR & THE SCHOLAR AS PASTOR by John Piper and D.A. Carson

In the days of the Protestant Reformation, pastors and scholars were often one and the same. Men like Martin Luther and John Calvin wrote deep, insightful theological tomes and served as spiritual shepherds at a local level. But in the 20th century, due to everything from the professionalization of ministry to the liberalization of academia, the vocation of pastor-scholar was bifurcated. If you were vocationally called to Christian service, you now seemingly had to pick: you could be a pastor or a professor, a servant or a scholar. You could not be both.

In The Pastor as Scholar & The Scholar as Pastor, a short book based upon a pair of lectures delivered by famed pastor John Piper and biblical theologian D.A. Carson, the case is made for bringing these professions back together into one calling, for pastors who think and write deeply about theology and professors who serve in the local church. Both Piper and Carson believe that the split between the steeple and the ivory tower has hurt the church, and it is up to a new generation of leaders to bring them back together and give the world and the church true pastor-scholars.

As someone who strives to be a pastor-scholar, I agree with Piper and Carson's central premise, but was frustrated that they didn't offer much of a path forward in terms of how to go about doing this. I agree that pastors ought to spend more time in Scripture than in committee meetings, but how do you go about turning that corner? I agree that professors should devote themselves more to the church than their research, but in the cutthroat world of academia, how do they do so without losing their jobs?

Ultimately Piper and Carson are well-intentioned, but I wish this short book had been heavier on solutions than diagnosis. I agree with their point. But now what?

CITY OF MAN: RELIGION AND POLITICS IN A NEW ERA by Michael Gerson and Peter Wehner

In 2010, conservative Christian columnists (and former Bush White House officials) Michael Gerson and Peter Wehner came together to write City of Man, their diagnosis of the state of American evangelicalism and their vision for how it would at moving forward. In their minds, the era of the Religious Right was drawing to a close and the church was now set up for a day in which is could act as a moral beacon in a secular world, a force for good in politics and culture. The church, they felt, now had an opportunity to be a prophetic voice of grace and truth.

What a difference a decade makes.

I bought this book because of the authors, both of whom I read regularly in The Washington Post and The Atlantic. I find them both to be sincere, articulate voices for the kind of evangelicals I respect, men who love God and country in that order and who care more about truth than power.

But, 12 years after this book was published, this book is hopelessly dated, its central premise proven wrong by the evangelical embrace of Donald Trump. It's clear that Gerson and Wehner overestimated the depth of evangelicals' faith and underestimated their fear and desire for political power. The reactionaries whom they thought of as outliers now run the show.

I read this short book with a mixture of sadness and cynicism, often thinking to myself, "oh you sweet, naïve babies" as Gerson and Wehner extolled evangelicals' supposed prioritizing of faith over partisanship. Sadly, this book ends up being more of a time capsule than the prophetic manifesto they intended it to be. Perhaps someday their vision will be reclaimed. One can only hope.

HIS VERY BEST: JIMMY CARTER, A LIFE by Jonathan Alter

Among some of the titanic political figures of latter half of the 20th century—LBJ, Nixon, Reagan—the Jimmy Carter years can sometimes seem like a strange accident of history, a brief interim between the decline of of liberalism's heyday and the rise of Reaganite conservatism. Carter is almost universally regarded as a failed president, a good man who was in over his head and whose biggest achievements came after he left office.

In His Very Best, Jonathan Alter seeks to counter both of those pieces of conventional wisdom, arguing both that Carter's presidency was far more productive and consequential than it is given credit for and that his post-presidency is slightly overrated. Covering Carter's entire life thus far (at 97, he's still going strong), Alter presents an interesting if not always entirely persuasive apologetic for the 39th president.

The first section of the book, covering Carter's early years and rise to the governorship of Georgia and 1976 campaign for president, does an excellent job explaining Carter's chief character traits and how they were formed. In Alter's telling, Carter is a brilliant, detail-oriented man who is constantly seeking to improve himself and who wants to make a difference, a man gifted at connecting with people one-on-one but whose high moral standards and prickliness can make him across as self-righteous at times. I learned a great deal about Carter's early days as an engineer, peanut farmer, and governor from this section.

When Alter gets to the White House days, he does not hesitate to criticize Carter's failures, but is quick to excuse them, pointing out how everything from a suspicious, liberal Congress to a hostile, post-Nixon press were working against Carter from day one. In his telling, Carter never really got a fair shake from the country, and events largely outside Carter's control (such as the Iran hostage crisis) came to take on a larger-than-life importance, whereas more consequential achievements—from Carter's environmental record to the Camp David accords—were overshadowed. Alter's conclusion is that Carter perfectly set up Reagan in that the country traded a great statesman for the Great Communicator—Carter's failure in his eyes was not his policies but his public perception.

As for Carter's days out of office, Alter is more critical than most, showing how Carter's good intentions to broker peace globally often put his successors in a bind and how the ex-president may have been better at getting headlines than getting results when it came to certain acts of highly publicized activism. Alter remains a Jimmy Carter fan in this section, but refuses to affirm the conventional wisdom that Carter did more out of office than he did in it.

Overall, this is a well-written biography that is moderately successful at arguing for a more sympathetic reading of the Carter years. It's unlikely to make you think Carter was a great president, but it does give much-needed context and help you better understand him. A good read for history buffs!

THE FLINTSTONES by Mark Russell and Steve Pugh

In January of 2016, DC Comics announced a new partnership with Hanna-Barbera, studio home of such classic cartoon shows as Yogi Bear, Huckleberry Hound, Scooby Doo, and The Smurfs. Moving forward, DC would be producing a line of comics featuring these characters, but in stories and formats designed to appeal to adults on the basis of more than just nostalgia. This meant reimagined takes like Scooby Apocalypse, a monthly series throwing Scooby and the gang into a dystopian setting; it also meant zany crossovers like, I kid you not, Batman/Elmer Fudd.

But the highlight, at least so far, in this innovative partnership has been Mark Russell and Steve Pugh's The Flintstones, which uses the denizens of bedrock to present a satirical take on our modern, consumeristic world. With Fred Flintstone as the lovable, good-hearted everyman (and straight man when hijinks ensue), Russell takes aim at politics, organized religion, immigration, militarism, and more.

Two things make this 12-issue maxiseries so effective. The first is the light touch with which Russell makes his satirical points. Where many sources of satire today, from Last Week Tonight to The Late Show with Stephen Colbert, sometimes come across more angry than funny, Russell is always conscious of the absurdity of what he's doing: making deep points via the Flintstones. He has a point of view, yes, and you won't miss it. But he's here to make jokes.

The second thing, related to the first, is that this is a book with heart. Russell comes across as someone who's disappointed with the state of our modern world, but hasn't given up on humanity quite yet. Whether through Fred, Pebbles, or, most frequently, the household "appliances" like the vacuum cleaner (a baby elephant) and bowling ball (an armadillo), Russell doesn't just make you think and laugh, he makes you feel.

This is a book that will appeal to anyone, including across the political divide. With humor, intelligence, and style, Mark Russell and Steve Pugh deliver what has to be one of the unlikeliest hits the comics world has ever seen. If you don't like superheroes but you want to see why I read comics every day, pick this up.