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The annoying attribute of the catalogue, however, is that SVS Press seems to feel the necessity to aim for a broad audience. Thus, for example, the recent new biography of St. Gregory the Theologian (as the Orthodox have always called him) is entitled _St. Gregory of Nazianzus_ (as the Roman Catholics and the Protestants, when they have noticed him, have called him).
Thus, too, the present tome, which is on thre subject of three of the central figures in the Orthodox theological tradition: the Cappadocian Fathers St. Basil the Great, St. Gregory the Theologian, and St. Gregory of Nyssa. Its author is listed on the spine, on the front cover, on the back cover, and on the title page simply as "Anthony Meredith." However, on the bibliographical page, one encounters a copyright statement in the name of "Anthony Meredith, S.J."
The problem here is that several of the SVS Press books on topics such as this one are written by Protestants and Latins (usually Jesuits). When it comes to a topic such as the theology of the Cappadocians, whose legacy is perhaps the chief distinction between Orthodoxy and Roman Catholicism, to have the text be written by a Jesuit is to court distortion and uncomprehension.
This book demonstrates both. So, for example, one repeatedly reads of the Holy Spirit proceeding "from the Father through the Son." This is contrary to Christ's explicit teaching in the New Testament, where He refers to the Holy Spirit "Who proceeds from the Father." (John 15:26) It also contradicts the Nicene Creed, which, relying directly on the Holy Scriptures, also refers to "the Holy Spirit ... Who proceeds from the Father." The Roman Catholics in A.D. 1009 made "and the Son" a dogmatic addition to the Creed, thus separating themselves from the Orthodox Tradition of, e.g., the Cappadocian Fathers who did so much to establish Nicene orthodoxy as Orthodoxy.
This distortion runs through the book in other terms, too. Thus, for example, at page 104 one "learns" that "homoousios" (Greek for "of one essence") in the Creed "very clearly meant that whatever was affirmed about the Father must also be affirmed about the Son." However, this is precisely the Augustinian error that led to the Latins' interlineation of A.D. 1009. The Father has the unique quality within the Godhead of being that from which the others originate; this emphatically is _not_ to be affirmed about the Son. If one does not hold, as St. Basil affirms in _Against Eunomius_ (see page 105!!), that each of the three Persons shares the same essence but has a different characteristic (the Father as source, the Son as only-begotten of the source, the Spirit as only processor from the source), one ends in a Triniatrian muddle. Anyone who knows the slightest thing about the Cappadocians and their Orthodox successors knows this. (Cf. St. Gregory the Theologian's poem "On the Holy Spirit" in the collection of his poems, _On God and Man_.) To refuse to see the implications for the _filioque_ controversy is to expose oneself as a Latin partisan -- and an enemy of the Cappadocians, the subjects of the book! (Indeed, the material on page 106 offers all the proof that one needs that the Cappadocians never would have accepted the absurd _filioque_.)
On page 110, the author refers to "the Western form of the Nicene Creed." However, since that "form" was adopted in the 11th century, it is no more a "form" of the Nicene Creed than Christianity is a "form" of Judaism.
Also appallingly arrogant is the author's criticism of St. Basil at pages 116-117 for not displaying an appreciation of "art for art's sake." Really, the subjects here are three monastic saints, not some dilettante Borgia pope. What connection appreciation of secular art has to _theosis_, I do not understand. Perhaps the author should have approached these great churchmen with the idea of learning from them, not of criticizing them from a completely secular, culturally and religiously foreign perspective. I wish that SVS Press would more carefully assign and edit the texts it publishes. This one is a fair source of information on these saints for people already familiar with the Tradition; for others, it is more apt to be a pitfall than an aid.
After Hitler commits suicide (which is not a spoiler because it's historical fact) the novel shifts to four treasure hunters. They are a likable bunch.
However, the reader is left with a question: What does this all have to do with Hitler? We are finally told that in the last chapter.
The last chapter is rushed and far-fetched. It is a shame because the story was very enjoyable. This book can be read in a day or two.
Yes, this story is entertaining but the ending has absolutely no bite.
But it is just really dry. Scholastic texts can be much more interesting, with better writing and more informative pictures. These pictures are black and whites drawings of parts of plants. The writing describes alternate leaves and lobes and how many sepals a plant has. Unless you have vast training in botany, you'll have no idea what the plant actually looks like. The Table of Contents listed by ... and in the text is misleading- of 550 pages, only 30 deal with the topography and climate. Of those, the section on the History of Botanical Exploration is one paragraph; the section on Conservation is five- two of the more promising sections.
There are many interesting plants in this region. Qat is a mild stimulant considered a Class A drug in America, legal in Britain, and chewed by all Yemeni men and half of the Yemeni women for a few hours every day. You can't be Yemeni and not be involved with it. But there's no listing for it in the Index; presumably it's under it's scientific name. Suqutra is an amazing island, isolated for millions of years from the rest of the world and therefore exhibiting classic botanical gigantisism due to the absence of predators. (The correct name of the island is Suqutra; the authors of the text use the Western name, Socotra.) It has umbrella trees, trees that look like giant carrots, and actual cucumber trees- trees that have become cucumbers. But without knowing the scientific names, you can't find them in this book. There is no listing of all species by area, so it is hard to find the Suqutri specimens. Once you do find them, the description is so dry you would know nothing of their magnificence. And the pictures show such small parts of the plants that you wouldn't be able to even recognize it as the wondrous organism it is.
The book is basically a missed opportunity. But it's a handy and encompassing text for someone within this specific field who's willing to pay for it.
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The problem is that Powell's humor centering around Widmerpool is akin to the humor of Seinfeld. Like the characters of that show, Widmerpool is often sailing amongst the people around him, steadfast in his selfishness, and then has a bowl of sugar unexpectedly dumped on his head. While you do not feel sorry for him--he is, after all, quite a butt in his egotistical way--the manner by which he gets his comeuppance does not put the other characters in all that favorable a light either.
Truth to be told, I was much more interested in Jenkins, newly ensconced in the world of British cinema screenplay writing, and engaged by the end of the book. Unlike his romance with Jean Duport, his wooing of Isobel Tolland occurs entirely offstage, and one wonders at whether it was a thing born of love or of that endlessly ticking biological clock. Stringham and Templar, so important at the beginning of Powell's narrative, are little more than quick asides here.
Now that I'm a third of the way through the Dance, I'm committed to finishing its steps. I only hope that this current turn was simply a miscue on the part of my partner, Mr. Powell, and not a headlong fall into the bandstand.