Not your typical Bible stories: just in time for the holidays

bible-imageThis time of the year makes me feel curious -- biblically curious. Is that true for you? I find myself thinking about wise men from the East, a blazing bright star, and all those other props and costumes in the stories of Jesus' birth. How much of it was real? How much of it was invented by evangelists vividly alive to the power of myth?

I don't even have to ask the questions myself if I don't want to: There's ABC News correspondent Christiane Amanpour on the tube, posing these and other questions about Bible stories in a prime-time special called "Back to the Beginning."

And I also have a fascinating book on the table in front of me: "From Gods to God: How the Bible Debunked, Suppressed or Changed Ancient Myths and Legends" by Avigdor Shinan and Yair Zakovitch (University of Nebraska Press/Jewish Publication Society).

My first reaction?

Somebody at University of Nebraska Press has a pretty subversive sense of timing -- why else do you publish a book like this in the same month when major Christian and Jewish holidays are observed?

My second reaction?

What an amazing book. An amazing, fascinating book.

The authors, both professors at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, explore the reality -- and deeper mythic dimensions -- of questions that Ms. Amanpour, unfortunately, doesn't cover in her fancy two-part primetime special.

"Israel's break with its pagan past was hardly instantaneous and certainly not painless," the authors write. In fact, the books of the Old Testament (which this book focuses on) preserve that battle with the pagan past. You find bits of strange myth and odd questions strewn throughout -- like fragments from an explosion that have been scattered across a field.

"Though the writers of the Bible may have lived hundreds of years apart," Shinan and Zakovitch add, "they spoke with one another through their writings.... the Bible is not merely a collection of books but a network of connections in which stories talk to poems and laws to prophecies..."

Part of that conversation involves interesting questions, including:

-- What is the manna that fell from Heaven and fed the Israelites?

-- If it wasn't David, then who really killed the Philistine warrior Goliath?

-- Did the serpent in Eden have legs and arms long before Adam and Eve arrived?

-- Samson/Heracles/Jesus ... did you know there are connections among them?

-- Did you know that the Psalms contain echoes of earlier stories about God the Creator's primordial wars against dragons and the ocean?

This hardly scratches the surface of a provocative, engaging book that is clearly the distillation of a lifetime's worth of study.

In the questions above in boldface, as with much else in Holy Scripture,  the authors locate forgotten, older traditions and pagan observances.

They remind any reader -- one who is willing to relax his or her literalist death-grip on the Bible -- that enduring stories, much like a mighty river, are fed by countless, sometimes unexpected sources.

"The two-way journey from the Hebrew Bible to the writings that were earlier, later, and contemporary to it and then back to the pages of the Bible convinces us," the authors emphasize, "that, while it is good to study one body of literature in depth, that study cannot be in isolation: the many cultures and literatures that influenced it must also be taken into consideration.... Only by examining the entire mosaic, including each stone and its color, shade, and hue, will we be able to fully understand this extraordinary work...."

Such a lesson leads to greater understanding and, hopefully, to more tolerance among cultures.

At any time of year, that message would be welcome. At this time of year, that message is also something else.

It's a gift.

A frustrated failure and his masterpiece: new in bookstores

"The Last Supper," painting by Leonardo Da Vinci: If only we all could fail like this. Dan Brown thinks he knows Leonardo's secrets; so does Javier Serra and plenty of other novelists; but it's Ross King who's the true authority. With "Leonardo and 'The Last Supper' " (Walker & Company), he reveals the real circumstances -- minus all that business about Mary Magdalene and the Priory of Sion -- that led to the Renaissance genius' creation of his masterpiece.

Leonardo was in middle age when the project to paint Jesus and his Apostles came along--following a string of unfinished commissions.

What was the most recent, humiliating one?  It involved 75 pounds of bronze: The bronze had been intended for Leonardo's statue of Milan's Francesco Sforza astride a horse, but it was melted instead into cannon balls.

All Leonardo's planning, all his hopes ... gone (literally) in a puff of smoke from a cannon's mouth.

ross-king-leonardo-and-the-last-supperKing deftly reconstructs everything -- Leonardo's circumstances and his execution of the painting, the historical context of 15th century Italy -- and infuses the figure of the artist himself with a fresh bloom, devoid of caricature.

That is no small feat: Some critics have treated the maestro from Vinci like an accidental genius or somebody's crazy uncle, a dabbler who was a bit nutty and lost in a cloud of experimentation in a messy studio.

That negative image seemed further reinforced a few years ago: Remember when the alarming news was announced that "The Last Supper" was disintegrating thanks to Leonardo's painting method? That surely didn't help his case either.

Ah, but wait, King points out, waving a cautionary finger, Leonardo created a special surface with a primer coat of lead white in order to "enhance the mural's luminosity" -- to make that solemn biblical scene glow with a timeless quality on the convent wall. That's hardly the strategy of a madman.

"Over the course of three years," King writes, "[Leonardo] managed -- almost for the only time in his life -- to harness and concentrate his relentless energies and restless obsessions. The result was 450 square feet of pigment and plaster, and a work of art utterly unlike anything ever seen before -- and something unquestionably superior to the efforts of even the greatest masters of the previous century."

Here, as in his books about Machiavelli and Michelangelo, King clearly demonstrates why he is the friend of every armchair traveler eager to understand life as it was actually experienced in the Italian past.

If someone in your family happens to share this historical appetite, well, then, you have just stumbled on an ideal holiday gift for them in "Leonardo and 'The Last Supper,' " haven't you?

The innocents

candle-flame From Matthew 2: 16-18:

"Then Herod, when he saw that he was deceived by the wise men, was exceedingly angry; and he sent forth and put to death all the male children who were in Bethlehem and in all its districts, from two years old and under, according to the time which he had determined from the wise men.  Then was fulfilled what was spoken by Jeremiah the prophet, saying:

 A voice was heard in Ramah, Lamentation, weeping, and great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children, Refusing to be comforted, Because they are no more.”

... I think of the grieving community of Newtown -- of those heroic, selfless  educators, of those sweet little babies and their ruined families ... and I'm at a loss for words.

What to bring with you when you join Bilbo & Company: new in bookstores

The dragon Smaug circles the Lonely Mountain; illustration by J.R.R. Tolkien Followers of J.R.R. Tolkien know what "The Hobbit" is: It's a prelude. A delicious dish, but not the main course. The adventures are wonderful, but the story plays out on a much smaller canvas than "The Lord of the Rings" -- though you wouldn't know it from watching the first installment of Peter Jackson's "Hobbit" trilogy. (That, by the way, is not a complaint: Jackson's version is amazing -- it's just not the same story).

If Jackson's movie has inspired you to take down your old thumbed copy of the tale and get reacquainted, several new books will also serve as sturdy companions as you join up with Bilbo, the dwarves and Gandalf the wizard on the journey to the Lonely Mountain and Smaug's hoard.

A few years ago, John D. Rateliff brought out an extraordinary edition of "The History of 'The Hobbit' " (Houghton Mifflin, 2007) -- which features "The Hobbit" along with two annotated volumes of early drafts in a beautiful slipcase. At a price of $95, it is well worth every penny -- I especially love Rateliff's discussions of the Necromancer (Sauron) and Bladorthin/Gandalf, who evolves from a little firework-wielding old man into "one of the five Istari, bearer of the Ring of Fire..."

A pleasurable, insightful collection that easily steals an hour (or six) if you're not careful.

More agreeable with the wallet might be  "Exploring J.R.R. Tolkien's 'The Hobbit' " by Corey Olson (Houghton Mifflin Harcourt), an English professor at Washington College in Maryland who provides a flowing, accessible presentation of the narrative that will please newcomers and old visitors to Middle-earth in equal measure.

For me, however, the real treat this Hobbity season is "The Art of 'The Hobbit' " edited by Wayne Hammond and Christina Scull (Houghton Mifflin Harcourt).

Tolkien was a gifted amateur artist who expressed his mighty vision in paintings and sketches, and this book collects these images (some of these have never been seen before). He gives us, for instance, a quaint, bucolic portrait of life in the Shire in the painting of "Hobbiton-across-the-water"; he also creates detailed paintings of Rivendell, the Misty Mountains, and Smaug in his hall.

One of my favorites is this map of Mirkwood, which is a haunted, tainted place:

An imagined world that seems real: Tolkien's Mirkwood and the Lonely Mountain.

Tolkien's efforts to bring this story into being took so many forms -- invented languages, paintings, maps, songs and poems. I appreciate how this collection of art demonstrates the lengths to which a great artist will go in order to give his world tangibility -- and heft -- in ours.

Etc.: early Saramago, plus Frank Herbert's 'Dune' meets poet Ted Hughes

raised-from-the-groundJOSE VS. THE MAN: Back in 1980, 18 years before he won the Nobel Prize for Literature, Jose Saramago was a newspaper deputy editor who got canned from his job (nobody treats deputy editors right, do they?). He penned a big, fat novel that lets us know exactly how he was feeling, "Raised from the Ground: A Novel" (Houghton Mifflin Harcourt), translated from the Portuguese by Margaret Jull Costa.

Here we meet the Mau Tempo family -- poor peasants -- and follow them in their travails and misfortunes against the privileged> We hear that wry, mischievous narrator's voice that Saramago went on to perfect in a novel like "Baltasar and Blimunda"; and we relish the prose: "Ah, but life is a game too, a playful exercise, playing is a very serious, grave, even philosophical act..."

Classic Saramago, and to think: This was only the beginning for him.

***

poet-ted-hughesFRANK HERBERT'S "DUNE" MEETS TED HUGHES?: Someone pointed me in the direction of a long letter that's very uplifting and inspiring in spite of the circumstances surrounding it.

A recent post on Letters of Note, a worthy site maintained by Shaun Usher, offers in a letter the inspirational insights of Ted Hughes to his son, Nicholas.

You should check it out.

What unexpectedly resonated for me -- beyond the power and unique metaphors of Hughes' insights -- was something quite science fictiony and unexpected ...

Suddenly, I was thinking of Frank Herbert's novel "God Emperor of Dune" which I decided to reread this holiday season (I can't even explain what made me pick it up again - did Santa make me think of sandworms?).

Near the end of Hughes' letter, he alludes to an ancient bit of wisdom: "And as the old Greeks said: live as though all your ancestors were living again through you."  That, I realized, is exactly what the man-turned-Worm Leto II experiences -- all the voices of House Atreides speaking through him.