Motherhood memoirs are glutting the market these days. Yet beyond how-to manuals for new dads, glossy gift books for Father’s Day, and the occasional memoir of a son about his father, reflective writing by men about parenting is scarce.
Imagine what would happen if listeners became learners. Imagine a congregation where the purpose of a sermon might be to have parishioners engage in a conversation in response to an informed engagement with the biblical text.
Let us briefly recount the career of one of the most interesting and spiritually minded of American writers. Nine books of fiction, including a searing arrow of a novella, The Shawl, which ranks with Primo Levi’s haunted memoirs when we talk about books on the Holocaust.
If there is one sure curse in this world, it’s mineral wealth. Is there gold or diamonds or oil beneath the surface of your land? Then count on poverty, gross inequality and autocracy above. Of all the possibilities, coal is the worst, dirty in every way. When it’s burned, it fills the air with carbon, powering the global warming now unhinging the planet. But before that silent tragedy can take place, there’s a noisy horror—the kaboom of exploding mountains across the southern Appalachians.