Book reviews: C.S. Lewis's Space/Ransom trilogy

The Space Trilogy (or Ransom Trilogy) is C.S. Lewis' only other fantasy (under the guise of science fiction/scientifiction) series, and when I read them the first few times, I loved them so much that I listed them among my favorite books. I've reread them now for my C.S. Lewis class, and my feelings about the books have changed. 

 

Out of the Silent Planet (description) - The first book in the trilogy remains my favorite. The fascinating planet and its inhabitants, their language and Ransom's learning of it, and the way Lewis marries science fiction with fantasy and Christianity makes this book so enjoyable to me. The opinions CSL promotes in this book are of the "we should not colonize other planets/don't be obsessed with furthering the human race to the point that we lose our humanity" variety, which is slightly surprising until you remember he's Irish. On the whole I agree with him; I think I enjoyed the other books in the trilogy less because I don't agree with the beliefs he endorses there. A couple things I found funny are that Dr. Ransom (a philologist) is based on J.R.R. Tolkien, and the space travel science is completely silly. Anyway, I really liked this book but I don't think I count it a favorite anymore. 4.5 out of 5 stars, permanent collection. Trigger warnings: everything you should expect from a male-written 1940s sci fi book, murder, death, animal abuse and killing mention, ableism, kidnapping, guns/shooting death, colonialist genocide mentions

Aesthetics moodboard for Out of the Silent Planet

Perelandra (description) leans almost completely outside of the science and into fantasy. The medieval cosmology he folded into his science fantasy is much more dwelled on, and I love the mythological references Lewis added to the story. Perelandra is new, lush, and beautiful, and I enjoyed spending time in it. I did not enjoy the spiritual horror that threatened it through one of the antagonists from OotSP. I also wasn't crazy about traditional/old fashioned gender beliefs being shoehorned into the story through the planet gods. Lewis was nonplussed that most people didn't pick up on the Christianity in the first space book, so he really hammered it in here. I gave this one 4 stars. Trigger warnings: murder, death, violence, cosmic/spiritual/supernatural horror (demonic forces), demonic possession, body horror, zombie if you squint, animal abuse and murder, blood, gun, a huge bug-like creature shows up for a bit

Aesthetics moodboard for Perelandra

That Hideous Strength is the last book in the trilogy and takes place entirely on earth. Ransom is no longer the main character/focus; instead, we have alternating POVs from Jane and Mark, a young married couple who are bored with their lives and each other. Jane's dreams of the future bring her into Ransom's circle, and Mark's desire to be in the inner ring/popular & intellectual group brings him further into a shadowy organization (ironically called N.I.C.E.) that wants to control the universe. There's an exciting subplot with Arthurian fantasy and more medieval cosmology planetary influence stuff that I really enjoyed. There's also spiritual/supernatural horror in this book, albeit less direct that in Perelandra, but still creepy because an organization like N.I.C.E. could really exist and take over cities with police control and make bad people evil. There's a so-bad-it's-almost-funny butch lesbian cop stereotype who is written to be monstrous and evil. Lewis hammers in even more nonsense about gender roles and how it's an "erotic necessity" for the woman to obey her husband, which, like, your k!nks are not universal, babe. Just because you feel that way doesn't mean it's a natural law. Jane is not a very likeable character (Lewis is famous for being sexist, at least until he met his wife), but almost all the men are dicks to her in this book. It's not her fault her husband sucks and neglects her by eating all his meals at the university and then ditching her for weeks and weeks to live at the Institute. Jane never asked to get future dream visions or (spoiler, highlight to read: be part of a bloodline that was supposed to end with her birthing a future warrior for God or something, which no one told her about!) Justice for Jane! One thing I did find kind of funny is that Lewis posits there are seven genders because of the seven heavens/planets. Kind of based? 3.5 stars. Trigger warnings: murder, animal attack + massacre, gore, rape, torture, body horror, cosmic/spiritual/supernatural horror, police violence, town placed under police control and people driven from their homes, mob violence, animal abuse and experimentation (vivisection), guns and shooting deaths, eugenics and ableism mentions, genocide mentions, homophobia, homophobic stereotype character, misogyny and sexism, gender roles, homelessness, sex mentions

Aesthetics moodboard for That Hideous Strength

Book Review: Cuentos: Tales From the Hispanic Southwest

I was thrilled to find this book at my thrift store, as I am not very familiar with Latinx folklore the way I am with other cultures' stories. Back of book summary below:

Witchcraft and magic and the events of everyday life in the Hispanic villages of New Mexico and southern Colorado flow through this collection of cuentos. Together the tales evoke the rich tradition--the wisdom, customs and values--of the early Spanish Settlers and their descendants.

What this doesn't say, and what the compilers/translators emphasize, is that it's not just the Spanish heritage; it's all of the cultures in the Southwest who are combined in the people and in their stories: Spanish, Mexican, and Native American. You see Mexican Spanish words derived from Aztec used (tecolote, zacate), Native American terms (tata/tatita), as well as terms that are clearly from the local dialect of the time (asina for asi). This is fascinating from a linguistic standpoint, and I recommend those studying Spanish and/or Latin American dialects to read this book. There is a glossary in the back for some of the different terms, which of course I did not find out until I was almost at the end. 

Each tale is told in both Spanish and English, with the Spanish on the left page and English on the right; this makes it a bit annoying to read. I struggled through the Spanish parts because of the archaic terms and dialectal differences, and also because my Spanish reading level never improved past elementary school. I'd say I understood anywhere from 80-99% of the text. The English translations definitely took liberties with the source material. I understand that good translations capture the spirit of the text rather than translating just the specific words directly, but there were way too many changes, many of which didn't make sense. Some changes I could see, as the original tales took it for granted that everyone would automatically know everything referenced in the story, but some things were expanded on in an unnecessary way. Some translation choices actually changed the connotation or story. Some examples: one cuento mentions a somewhat conniving Jewish jeweler, while the English translation doesn't mention he's Jewish at all (because of the antisemitism? This was published in 1980; were people that concerned about antisemitism then? Wouldn't it be the correct thing to leave the antisemitism in?). Another cuento mentions women turning into owls; the English text calls them old women. Yet others ascribed emotions, actions or descriptions to characters etc. that weren't present in the original text. It's just so irresponsible. These are learned writers who should know what they're doing! Bad translations are one of my pet peeves.

You may notice that I didn't include an author; this is because it's a bit muddled. The subtitle states that Juan B. Rael originally collected these oral folktales from Colorado and New Mexico, and Jose Griego & Maestas compiled and adapted them for this book, while Rudolfo A. Anaya (author of Bless Me, Ultima!) is the one who made the English translations. Of course, it's basically impossible to know the sources/authors of these stories, as with oral tradition, each teller can add their own details in every telling.

Some of the stories are very short and are almost like longish jokes with punchlines. These often poke fun of or criticize corrupt priests or selfish rich men. Simple indio/Native American characters often get back at these. Christian and Catholic personages like Jesus, the Virgin Mary, St. Peter, and God often show up and are depicted as characters, sometimes acting human. Death also shows up a lot. I learned there are different versions of death, not just the one skeleton with a scythe. One is called manita muerte, short for little sister (hermanita) death. Some of the stories are unsurprisingly moralistic and Catholic/Christian; others involve people getting rich. These reminded me of fairytales I've read, because of the formerly oral feel and moralistic/getting rich themes. There's one about a guy who saves a snake and is awarded the ability to talk to animals and consequently finds money and gets rich that, apart from the setting and language, could have come from Grimm's (the introduction says it's from the 1001 Arabian Nights, which, fascinating). Instead of the familiar "habia una vez.." beginning, these all begin very plainly with "Habia..." or "Esta era un hombre...", which I found interesting. Almost all of these stories have male protagonists; the only one who kinda has a female protagonist is about a shapeshifting witch who's bested by a man.

Overall, I enjoyed this book and am glad I bought it. I think I'm keeping it, although I'm lending it to my dad next so it might end up at my parents' house. I like learning more about Latinx literary culture. 

Score: 3.5 out of 5 stars
Read in: July 24-August 31
From: Savers thrift store
Status: keeping for now

Cover notes: The cover depicts art from the same artist who drew the inside illustrations. I think it's fine. Death never flies over anyone's house in any of the stories, although they are featured quite often.

Trigger warnings for this book: elder abuse and neglect, child abuse and neglect mentions, anti-indigenous racism, period-typical sexism, gambling addiction, fantasy violence, death, Christianity and Catholicism, church and clergy corruption, thievery, witchcraft, can't think of anything else but if you've read fairy tales and folklore from the 1800s then you know the vibe

Book Review: Faith Unraveled: How a Girl Who Knew All the Answers Learned to Ask Questions by Rachel Held Evans

Rachel Held Evans had been on my radar since maybe the late 2000s due to her being a feminist Christian writer who was respected by literary and Christian online acquaintances of mine. Rachel is probably best known (even outside of Christian circles) as the woman who followed all the instructions of the Bible to the letter for a full year. I've been slowly buying her books when I come across them in thrift stores, etc. This one I bought on Book Outlet. (LMK if you wanna join; I get invite credits). 

Faith Unraveled: How a Girl Who Knew All the Answers Learned to Ask Questions is I think her first book; it was originally called Evolving in Monkey Town with the same subtitle. The Scopes monkey trial took place in Rachel's hometown in 1925 and acts as a neat metaphor for what the book is about: belief, doubt, politics, and fundamentalism. She wrote it after years of wrestling with her conservative evangelical Christian upbringing in the Bible belt and the doubt she experienced as an adult. Book summary: 

Eighty years after the Scopes Monkey Trial made a spectacle of Christian fundamentalism and brought national attention to her hometown, Rachel Held Evans faced a trial of her own when she began to have doubts about her faith.

In Faith Unraveled, Rachel recounts growing up in a culture obsessed with apologetics, struggling as her own faith unraveled one unexpected question at a time.

In order for her faith to survive, Rachel realizes, it must adapt to change and evolve. Using as an illustration her own spiritual journey from certainty to doubt to faith, Evans challenges you to disentangle your faith from false fundamentals and to trust in a God who is big enough to handle your tough questions.

In a changing cultural environment where new ideas seem to threaten the safety and security of the faith, Faith Unraveled is a fearlessly honest story of survival.

This book wasn't exactly fun to read, but I did enjoy reading it. It's refreshing to read a Christian writer who doesn't flinch away from the problem of pain and the other big questions, who isn't content with just accepting the traditional pat answers. When many Christians are asked the difficult questions, they are far too likely to, like Aziraphale in the beginning of Good Omens, say "it's ineffable" and refuse to think about it. I liked how Rachel described fundamentalism: as having the same beliefs, but held so tightly that one's fingernails gouge marks in one's palm. Consequently, they are afraid of change, and will do anything to keep the status quo, including turning to politics to hold on to power. 

Rachel, a pastor's daughter, went to Christian schools and college where she and her classmates were taught to be Christian apologists and debaters, concerned more with winning souls and dunking on nonbelievers than they were about determining what they really believed and if they believed it. Rachel's crisis of faith was relatable, and I felt for her. She also includes some short chapters about other people she knows and their approaches to faith and belief. This book doesn't have a neat ending, but then life and belief don't. This book is all the more poignant because Rachel passed away a couple of years ago. She was only a few years older than me.

Score: 4 out of 5 stars
Read in: May 7-8
From: Book Outlet
Status:  keep for now

Cover notes: I like the cover, although the monkey won't make sense until you read the first chapter about the Scopes monkey trial.

Trigger warnings for this book: described beheading, murder, domestic abuse mention, misogyny mentions, abortion mentions, religious abuse, bombing mentions, US war in the Middle East mentions, hypothetical torture mentions  (hell), fundamentalism, Christian-centrism, Islamophobia, that view of Christianity/Jesus as the only pathway to salvation, related topics

Book reviews: Shroud for the Archbishop and The Subtle Serpent by Peter Tremayne

At my previously mentioned thrift store book splurge, I found two more books in the Sister Fidelma mysteries by Peter Tremayne. Shroud for the Archbishop is the second book in the series and takes

place right after Sister Fidelma and Brother Eadulf arrive in Rome, a trip they were ordered to take at the end of the first book. Here's the Amazon summary, edited for length:

Wighard, archbishop designate of Canterbury, has been discovered garrotted in his chambers in the Lateran Palace in Rome in the autumn of AD 664. The solution to this terrible crime appears simple, as the palace guards have arrested Brother Ronan Ragallach as he fled from Wighard's chamber. Although the Irish monk denies responsibility, Bishop Gelasius is convinced the crime is political and that Wighard was slain in pique at the triumph of the pro-Roman Anglo-Saxon clergy in their debate with the pro-Columba Irish clergy at Whitby. There is also a matter of missing treasure: the goodwill gifts Wighad had brought with him to Rome and the priceless chalices sent for the Holy Father Vitalian's blessings have all been stolen. Bishop Gelasius realises that Wighard's murder could lead to war between the Saxon and Irish kingdoms if Ronan is accused without independent evidence. So he invites Sister Fidelma of Kildare and Brother Eadulf [a Saxon] to investigate. But more deaths must follow before Fidelma is finally able to put together the strange jigsaw in this tale of evil and vengeance.

I enjoyed this one because it was set in Rome, which I have visited, and the catacombs make an appearance. I liked how all the different nationalities and cultures mingled and lived side by side. I also liked how the whole relics market thing was addressed (a splinter from the cross of Christ is undoubtedly fake). Unlike the first book, the mystery had me guessing, and I had no idea who the killer was. There was a gay couple in this book, only one of which is effeminite, so Tremayne is making progress. They do die rather horribly, but baby steps. It occurred to me that Tremayne is trying to show that gay people existed in antiquity and the middle ages, to counteract the idea that no gay people existed before Oscar Wilde, with Sappho being an outlier. He does it in such a hamfisted way that it makes me chuckle to think it's him being a historically accurate(?) ally, but anyway. 

The other book, The Subtle Serpent, is actually the fourth Sister Fidelma book, so I need to find the third somehow. Despite this, I didn't really feel like I was missing any information. I initially thought it was the third SF book, because at the end of SftAb, Fidelma gives Eadulf a book before they both set off on their respective journeys, and then she finds the book she gave him on a mysteriously abandoned ship. Here's the Amazon summary:

In the year 666 A.D., a headless female corpse is found in the drinking well of a remote abbey in southwest Ireland: clasped in one hand is a crucifix; tied to the other arm is a pagan death symbol. Sister Fidelma--sister to the king of Muman, a religieuse, and an advocate of the Brehon law courts--is sent to investigate. En route, she encounters a Gaulish merchant ship under full sail off the Irish coast--one whose crew and cargo have vanished without a trace.
Faced with a tense local situation, Fidelma must discover first the identity of the body in the well and uncover who was responsible, then find out what happened to the missing crew of the adrift merchant ship, and, finally, determine how these bizarre events are connected. For these events are more than simply disturbing--the peace of the entire kingdom rests upon their solution.

This one was a fun ride, although there were enough bumps to make me uncomfortable. For starters, the abbey is run by a bitchy, pompous abbess who surrounds herself with young nuns specifically so that no one will question her authority, and she makes it as difficult as possible for Fidelma, messing with her investigation at every turn. The one disabled person in the abbey is treated with contempt, and actually hides her intelligence by affecting a stutter and reading the library's books at night. She's accused of the second murder, and the abbess whips up a frenzy in the abbey, and if it's not for Fidelma, she would have been killed. The abbess's ex-husband is the local governor's (who is also the abbess's brother) personal priest (clergy can marry in the Celtic church), feeds everyone lies, and spreads rumors that the abbess is a lesbian and is in an incestuous relationship with their own daughter. All this with a pagan idol conspiracy, Fidelma almost getting shot in the woods, and even more of that ferked up family dynamic, plus lots of secrets and political intrigue. Also, Fidelma is worried about Brother Eadulf's disappearance. It all comes together in the end.

These two books were better than the first one, for sure. I didn't figure out the killers, and the twists had me going back and forth. There were way fewer references to Fidelma's appearance, with only one mention in the beginning of the book of how "rebellious red strands of hair snaked out from her headdress", which is basically verbatim from the first book. Like, why do we have to know that. Also, people grimaced way too much in these books. People only grimace when they're in pain or thinking about something gross, not to signify agreement or greet people, ffs. Remember how I said it was stupid that Fidelma was a grown woman who had no idea what attraction or a crush felt like? Well, it turns out Fidelma had a boyfriend who dumped her or died or w/e, so it's EVEN STUPIDER. Being bitter over a failed relationship doesn't mean one forgets what butterflies in the stomach mean. Ridiculous.

Score: 3.8 and 3.9 out of 5 stars
Read in: beginning of August
From: the thrift store
Format: paperback
Status: giving away

Book review: Absolution By Murder by Peter Tremayne

You will be completely unsurprised to learn that my next book was also from the library free books rack. Absolution By Murder: A Sister Fidelma Mystery is a historical fiction mystery set in the British Isles during the medieval period and is part of a series by Peter Tremayne. Sister Fidelma is an crime-solving nun who is a sort of lawyer/detective/investigator-type official in Ireland and she has to solve, you guessed it, MURDER. Well, several.

I felt somewhat like I had started the series somewhere between the beginning and middle, so I was therefore surprised to learn that ABM is apparently the first in this series, according to Publisher's Weekly (see this book's Amazon page).
Absolution by Murder's synopsis:

The King of Northumbria has requested the services of a wise counsel to decide the people's religious future. Among the select priests, elders, and scholars from Ireland and Rome is Sister Fidelma of Kildare. Trained as an advocate of the courts, she was expecting to rule on issues of law. Instead she was plunged into unholy murder. Dead was the Abbess Étain, a leading Celtic speaker, her throat slashed. With the counsel in an uproar and civil war threatening, the desperate king has turned to the sharp-witted Sister Fidelma for help. With the aide of her dear friend Brother Eadulf and her faith in the truth, she must act in haste before the killer strikes again.

The book opens with a note from the author, which provides historical context to the era and location so that the reader can understand what's going on. For instance, Tremayne states that in medieval Ireland (until England invaded it and forced assimilation), women had more rights than in other countries and could own property and hold political office. The historical context  was very useful; I think I would have been much more confused without it. The author's bio on Amazon is as follows: Peter Tremayne is the pseudonym for Peter Berresford Ellis, a well-respected authority on the ancient Celts. He is the author of over twenty books, including The Dictionary of Celtic Mythology, The Celtic Dawn: A History of Pan Celticism, and The Druids. This shows that Tremayne/Berresford Ellis really knows his stuff about the Celts and medieval Britain. I love anything having to do with the medieval era, so I was interested in this book.

The reason the Celtic religeuses are in Northumbria is because a synod is taking place, where church clergy are debating about whether the Celtic version or Catholic version of Christianity is correct and which one they will follow. I don't remember or know all of the differences, but Celtic Christianity included celebrating Easter according to the Julian calendar, keeping the seventh day Sabbath, monks shaving the front of the head for their tonsure, clergy being able to marry and both male and female monks/nuns in the same abbey/monastery, and sticking more closely to the apostles/early Christians' version of Christianity. The Catholics believed in celebrating Easter according to the Gregorian calendar, keeping Sunday as Sabbath, monks shaving a circle on the top of their head for their tonsure, the authority of the pope, and clergy remaining celibate and separate. The Celtic Christianity probably came to Ireland with the Romans during their reign, making their Christianity purer than Catholicism, which like snowballed a bunch of pagan and "popes just wanna have total power" stuff and cared less about the Bible than about papal authority. I read somewhere that the Irish Christians kept the Saturday Sabbath until the Catholic English forced them to adopt Sunday worship. See? Older than Catholicism, and closer to the Bible. I'm Seventh-day Adventist, a Protestant denomination that has been traditionally anti-Catholic (most Protestant denominations were/are, though), so I'm biased. Anyway, the monks were straight-up coming to blows over this stuff. To me, the tonsures are stupid, go ahead and celebrate Easter on Sunday, stop being so antisemitic that you refuse to keep the Saturday Sabbath even though it says to in the 10 commandments and get mad when someone points out that Jesus was Jewish, wtf, I don't care about the rest ditch the pope. The reason they wanted/had to choose one version of Christianity was because they were afraid a schism might happen, and the gospel might be lost? idk. Obviously the Church has split up many times and it's still here, but the Great Schism (Catholic-Orthodox/East-West church split) hadn't happened yet so they didn't know that. I was very interested in all of this and liked this aspect of the book. I love fun books that teach you things.

I'm not sure why the synopsis says "her dear friend Brother Eadulf" when he and Sister Fidelma first meet in this book and don't even like each other in the beginning. They have that classic meet-cute when Fidelma starts to fall for some reason and Eadulf catches her, and there's like a frisson of attraction. This merits a full-on eyeroll. Then, Fidelma realizes he's a Saxon and a Roman Catholic, aka on the opposing side of the religious dispute (more on that later), and she makes up her mind to dislike him, Anne Shirley-stylez. Part of this decide-to-dislike is due to her unrecognized attraction to him. It's weird because she really doesn't realize that she's attracted to him, probably because she doesn't even know what attraction is or feels like. I know she's a nun, but come on. The book is full of her constantly Feeling Something around him, like the standard "flutter in the stomach", and each time she's like "What is this feeling? Why am I feeling this way? What does this mean?" Sis. (eyeroll) Also she isn't pleased at being saddled with him for an investigation partner, although she begrudgingly admits it makes sense for a Catholic to be attached to the murder investigation (she's Celtic), especially since the murder might have had a religious/political motive. Eadulf seems really disposed to like her because he's a nice friendly guy, but also probably because she's pretty. They do get on better and better throughout the book, learning to work together and ending it as friends about to do a roadtrip together to Rome. Theirs is that classic pairing of the headstrong genius + the buenaso easygoing supportive friend/bf. Overall, though, I do think it's super weird that the author pushed this romance angle on a nun and monk, even though I think the Celtic clergy were allowed to marry. Hopefully they're more platonic in the other books.

Also, Sister Fidelma is attractive. She's got flaming red hair with "rebellious strands" that are always coming out of her headdress, ooh la la. She's tall and statuesque with milky skin. Her eyes change color with her mood, blue to green and back again. WE GET IT, she's a Strong Female Character (and not very historically accurate). Ugh. I am so tired of heroines having to be pretty. Why does she have to be pretty? Why is her appearance at all important? Wouldn't it have been more interesting if she were plain? (Yes.) Being the hero/ine doesn't mean the character has to be pretty. Being smart doesn't mean she has to be pretty. Being a woman doesn't mean she has to be pretty! I am sick of this. Give us someone us normies can look up to! Also, if she's a like forensic genius and she's pretty, it makes the character less plausible and can veer into Mary Sue area. I guess when a man is writing such a character it's less self-insert and more "this is my dream woman". Think about it. Gorgeous and brilliant and religious and spirited and chaste/innocent? Eyeroll. She does have flaws, though, such as her headstrongness and stubbornness. In a way those help her with her investigations, though, so. Anyway this sort of thing is lazy writing.

On to the mystery. SPOILERS AHEAD. Abbess Étain is a dear friend of Sister Fidelma, so she's shocked and grieved when AE is murdered. As Fidelma and Eadulf get closer to catching the villain, more people keep getting killed. I had only 2 suspects in mind around the middle the book, until one of them was found dead. Then a clue was dropped: quotes from Sappho in Greek were found with two of the bodies, which was a dead giveaway for the killer. As soon as I saw the name Sappho, I immediately remembered that Abbess Étain had an assistant nun, Sister Gwid, who loved Greek poetry and was totally gangly, awkward, overly tall, and hero-worshipped the Abbess. Obviously Sappho poetry + hero-worshipping a woman = lesbian. It turns out that Gwid was in love with the Abbess and gave her Sappho quotes, neither of which the Abbess was thrilled about. When Gwid found out that the Abbess was going to marry a man, she flipped out and killed her. Then she killed the others to keep her secret from coming out. I don't really like this because 1) homophobic stereotypes much? and 2) this was lazily written and most people who read this book, per Amazon, got who the killer was like halfway through the book. It was pretty obvious, what with Sappho. Also, I didn't like that Gwid's hideous personal appearance was constantly being remarked upon whenever she was in the scene. Her giant hands, her tall stooped height, her awkward limbs, etc. Why does she have to be ugly? Why does the villain have to be ugly? Why does the lesbian have to be ugly and mannish? Why does the lesbian have to be the villain? Gwid being besotted with the Abbess and then getting murderously jealous is a homophobic trope. There's also a monk in this book who is effeminate, looks up through his eyelashes at whoever is talking to him, speaks with a lilting high pitched voice, and is a magpie, stealing pretty/shiny things. I mean?? Why all the gay stereotypes, Tremayne? This, too, was lazy writing. END SPOILERS

Anyway, I enjoyed this book, despite being frustrated with the villain, characterization, homophobia, and the synod arguments. I would recommend this book if you have a high tolerance for infodumps, lazy writing, and religious topics.

The cover kind of gets the feel of the book, with its medieval architecture (sweet qua-trefoil window) and candle. I'm not sure if the architecture is period appropriate, but at least it's not Gothic. My favorite cover is this one, even though she's wearing a monk's robe and I'm pretty sure nuns wore different habits. I like the Kells-ish patterns. The one in the Amazon page is pretty good too. Nice Irish font use.

Score: 3.4 out of 5 stars
Read in: early February
From: free books rack at the library
Format: paperback
Status: put back on the free books rack at the library