One man’s account of his spiritual journey from confusion to a peaceful Christianity.
In his nonfiction debut, McAndrew looks back on the beginning of his spiritual journey, decades ago, when he was feeling a bit burnt out at the restaurant where he worked. Frazzled by his temperamental managers and spurred by a shocking tragedy that happened one night, he began what would become a lifelong search to understand “the invisible matrix of life that is God.” He increasingly interrogated the worldly assumptions of his life, guided by a new openness to put aside the doubts of the world and do as the Holy Spirit calls Christians to do: “walk out on the Sea of Life.” In order to do so, McAndrew writes, “we must let go of our doubts and fears, and trust the infinite oneness.” McAndrew describes this slow, sometimes-grudging process of growing spiritual freedom with a moving directness, relating family anecdotes involving his wife, Yvonne, and his wise-beyond-her-years daughter, Shavonne, with the flair of a novelist. All of it is meant to illustrate the familiar modern Christian adage, “When you get to your wit’s end, you will find God lives there.” McAndrew puts it simply, “That’s what happened to me.” The book’s confessional strengths are only slightly offset by its exegetical weaknesses. McAndrew writes, for instance, that in Genesis, “the primordial substance of the universe is light,” when the biblical text clearly states otherwise, or when he contends that a study of St. Peter’s words and actions shows that “trust in Spirit developed over time,” when precisely the opposite is the point of his sudden awakening on the night of Jesus’ arrest. But such quibbles don’t much distract from McAndrew’s larger message of surrendering worldly vanity to “the harmony of the Kingdom”; the book will provide younger Christians especially with an appealingly personal and spiritual version of the faith.
An affecting faith memoir filled with inviting personal anecdotes.
Privately published by Strunk of Cornell in 1918 and revised by his student E. B. White in 1959, that "little book" is back again with more White updatings.
Stricter than, say, Bergen Evans or W3 ("disinterested" means impartial — period), Strunk is in the last analysis (whoops — "A bankrupt expression") a unique guide (which means "without like or equal").
Noted jazz and pop record producer Thiele offers a chatty autobiography. Aided by record-business colleague Golden, Thiele traces his career from his start as a ``pubescent, novice jazz record producer'' in the 1940s through the '50s, when he headed Coral, Dot, and Roulette Records, and the '60s, when he worked for ABC and ran the famous Impulse! jazz label. At Coral, Thiele championed the work of ``hillbilly'' singer Buddy Holly, although the only sessions he produced with Holly were marred by saccharine strings. The producer specialized in more mainstream popsters like the irrepressibly perky Teresa Brewer (who later became his fourth wife) and the bubble-machine muzak-meister Lawrence Welk. At Dot, Thiele was instrumental in recording Jack Kerouac's famous beat- generation ramblings to jazz accompaniment (recordings that Dot's president found ``pornographic''), while also overseeing a steady stream of pop hits. He then moved to the Mafia-controlled Roulette label, where he observed the ``silk-suited, pinky-ringed'' entourage who frequented the label's offices. Incredibly, however, Thiele remembers the famously hard-nosed Morris Levy, who ran the label and was eventually convicted of extortion, as ``one of the kindest, most warm-hearted, and classiest music men I have ever known.'' At ABC/Impulse!, Thiele oversaw the classic recordings of John Coltrane, although he is the first to admit that Coltrane essentially produced his own sessions. Like many producers of the day, Thiele participated in the ownership of publishing rights to some of the songs he recorded; he makes no apology for this practice, which he calls ``entirely appropriate and without any ethical conflicts.'' A pleasant, if not exactly riveting, memoir that will be of most interest to those with a thirst for cocktail-hour stories of the record biz. (25 halftones, not seen)