by Michael Hicks ‧ RELEASE DATE: March 1, 2015
Though much of the writing is academically dry, this history is more provocative than readers may suspect.
A history of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, an institution that keeps most of its controversies behind closed doors.
Composer, performer and scholar Hicks (Music/Brigham Young Univ.; Henry Cowell, Bohemian, 2003, etc.) documents plenty of intrigue in the leadership, mission and repertoire of “America’s choir,” while acknowledging the considerable challenges of his endeavor: “The Tabernacle Choir is a close-knit family. And close-knit families often stiffen their ranks against outsiders. The current handbook of the Choir may not be shown to anyone who is not a member of the Choir. Choir members are not to write about the Choir in blogs. And they are required to secure permission from the Choir President before speaking to ‘the media.’ ” Yet music has been integral to the image of Mormonism practically since the beginning of the religion, through a 19th century when making a joyful noise in church was spiritually suspect to Protestant evangelicals. As the success of the choir “more than any other institution…domesticated the image of Mormonism,” offsetting the association with polygamy and other moral curiosities, it kept pace with the times by attracting a devoted following through radio, TV and a series of best-selling recordings that mixed the secular and the spiritual. By the 21st century, “the Tabernacle Choir sold out Denver’s Pepsi Stadium—fifteen thousand seats—three days before the Rolling Stones, another major brand name, sold just thirteen thousand seats in the same venue.” It also adapted to the high-tech spectacle that modern performance seemed to demand. Yet the hundreds of choir members remained unpaid and all but anonymous, serving as musical missionaries, and the institution become more closely associated with conservative political partisanship as it continued to struggle with what one leader called “the colored problem.”
Though much of the writing is academically dry, this history is more provocative than readers may suspect.Pub Date: March 1, 2015
ISBN: 978-0-252-03908-9
Page Count: 240
Publisher: Univ. of Illinois
Review Posted Online: Jan. 3, 2015
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Jan. 15, 2015
Share your opinion of this book
by Stephen Batchelor ‧ RELEASE DATE: Feb. 18, 2020
A very welcome instance of philosophy that can help readers live a good life.
A teacher and scholar of Buddhism offers a formally varied account of the available rewards of solitude.
“As Mother Ayahuasca takes me in her arms, I realize that last night I vomited up my attachment to Buddhism. In passing out, I died. In coming to, I was, so to speak, reborn. I no longer have to fight these battles, I repeat to myself. I am no longer a combatant in the dharma wars. It feels as if the course of my life has shifted onto another vector, like a train shunted off its familiar track onto a new trajectory.” Readers of Batchelor’s previous books (Secular Buddhism: Imagining the Dharma in an Uncertain World, 2017, etc.) will recognize in this passage the culmination of his decadeslong shift away from the religious commitments of Buddhism toward an ecumenical and homegrown philosophy of life. Writing in a variety of modes—memoir, history, collage, essay, biography, and meditation instruction—the author doesn’t argue for his approach to solitude as much as offer it for contemplation. Essentially, Batchelor implies that if you read what Buddha said here and what Montaigne said there, and if you consider something the author has noticed, and if you reflect on your own experience, you have the possibility to improve the quality of your life. For introspective readers, it’s easy to hear in this approach a direct response to Pascal’s claim that “all of humanity's problems stem from man's inability to sit quietly in a room alone.” Batchelor wants to relieve us of this inability by offering his example of how to do just that. “Solitude is an art. Mental training is needed to refine and stabilize it,” he writes. “When you practice solitude, you dedicate yourself to the care of the soul.” Whatever a soul is, the author goes a long way toward soothing it.
A very welcome instance of philosophy that can help readers live a good life.Pub Date: Feb. 18, 2020
ISBN: 978-0-300-25093-0
Page Count: 200
Publisher: Yale Univ.
Review Posted Online: Nov. 24, 2019
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Dec. 15, 2019
Share your opinion of this book
More by Stephen Batchelor
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
by R. Crumb ; illustrated by R. Crumb ‧ RELEASE DATE: Oct. 19, 2009
An erudite and artful, though frustratingly restrained, look at Old Testament stories.
The Book of Genesis as imagined by a veteran voice of underground comics.
R. Crumb’s pass at the opening chapters of the Bible isn’t nearly the act of heresy the comic artist’s reputation might suggest. In fact, the creator of Fritz the Cat and Mr. Natural is fastidiously respectful. Crumb took pains to preserve every word of Genesis—drawing from numerous source texts, but mainly Robert Alter’s translation, The Five Books of Moses (2004)—and he clearly did his homework on the clothing, shelter and landscapes that surrounded Noah, Abraham and Isaac. This dedication to faithful representation makes the book, as Crumb writes in his introduction, a “straight illustration job, with no intention to ridicule or make visual jokes.” But his efforts are in their own way irreverent, and Crumb feels no particular need to deify even the most divine characters. God Himself is not much taller than Adam and Eve, and instead of omnisciently imparting orders and judgment He stands beside them in Eden, speaking to them directly. Jacob wrestles not with an angel, as is so often depicted in paintings, but with a man who looks not much different from himself. The women are uniformly Crumbian, voluptuous Earth goddesses who are both sexualized and strong-willed. (The endnotes offer a close study of the kinds of power women wielded in Genesis.) The downside of fitting all the text in is that many pages are packed tight with small panels, and too rarely—as with the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah—does Crumb expand his lens and treat signature events dramatically. Even the Flood is fairly restrained, though the exodus of the animals from the Ark is beautifully detailed. The author’s respect for Genesis is admirable, but it may leave readers wishing he had taken a few more chances with his interpretation, as when he draws the serpent in the Garden of Eden as a provocative half-man/half-lizard. On the whole, though, the book is largely a tribute to Crumb’s immense talents as a draftsman and stubborn adherence to the script.
An erudite and artful, though frustratingly restrained, look at Old Testament stories.Pub Date: Oct. 19, 2009
ISBN: 978-0-393-06102-4
Page Count: 224
Publisher: Norton
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Sept. 15, 2009
Share your opinion of this book
© Copyright 2026 Kirkus Media LLC. All Rights Reserved.
Hey there, book lover.
We’re glad you found a book that interests you!
We can’t wait for you to join Kirkus!
It’s free and takes less than 10 seconds!
Already have an account? Log in.
OR
Trouble signing in? Retrieve credentials.
Welcome Back!
OR
Trouble signing in? Retrieve credentials.
Don’t fret. We’ll find you.