Blather.
Finally pushed myself through that book review I’ve been putting off for weeks now. Didn’t turn out half bad, especially towards the end (I rather liked the conclusion, which always risks being a kind of tacked-on superfluous bit of fluff, but this time wrapped things up nicely to give some perspective on how the two books I had been comparing related to each other in a broader philosophical context).
I think my problem, the reason the review was giving me trouble, was that I had begun both books with certain expectations that were not met, and I wanted to address those expectations. I was under the impression that both texts, for instance, would more directly address and define the idea of “honor” as it related to Pagan ethics–and yet I was immensely dissatisfied that neither really did a good job of this (which was tough for me, who had only ever heard of “honor” in the context of either Klingon battle songs or the restrained novels of Jane Austin). On the other hand, I had to reevaluate whether or not either really intended to focus on that concept or make it a foundation of their discussion. In the end, it didn’t seem like that was their intention, or at least, if it was, it was only a kind of “way in” to a much more interesting conversation. The real heart of both books was the idea of engaged relationship and story (as meaning-making), and as soon as I started to focus on that and set myself the task of merely describing what the books did do rather than what I thought they might do but hadn’t… the review became much easier to write.
The reason I was finding it hard to get the review kick-started was probably because my instinct is to keep first-person out of it as much as possible (just try to give readers a general idea of what they might find in a given text and let them decide for themselves if it’s worth the read). And yet the issue of thwarted expectations is essentially a first-person issue, isn’t it? You see what I mean? Or maybe I’m still just confusing myself… Anyway, by discussing what the books really were about, maybe I’ll spare at least a few readers from harboring inaccurate expectations similar to my own.
“Honor” seems like such a Pagan-y thing to base an ethical system on, all Heroic tribal men-with-beards-toasting-mugs-of-mead-after-a-glorious-battle kind of thing, as opposed to the passive, obedient, moon-faced-monks-on-their-knees Christian idea of virtue and morality. But the truth is, Restall Orr and Bren both really wanted to talk about story-telling, and story-telling doesn’t have to be jovial and loud and drunk (though it can be), it can also be subtle and intimate and quiet and mystical. I think that’s far more interesting, and more flexible, than trying to revive an old code of honor and tribal loyalties.
I’m tired. I’m going to bed. I want to spend more time on my creative writing, and less time evaluating other people’s books. Just for a little while, anyway.
Ali
A young woman seeking to establish herself as a "working poet" while pursuing a life founded in contemplation, wild wisdom and creative, loving freedom. 
Addressing expectation is important. It might be first-person in one sense, but examining why you had those expectations (was it the title? the cover? the blurb?) is important not just for yourself, but for any potential reader. It is also important, because if that expectation comes from the author of the book, then it is clear they are confused in their own minds. They may produce a perfectly good book on a given subject (and living with honour, with its connotations of personal responsibility may be ancient, but it is also exceedingly relevant today), but if they thought they were writing something else, it does cast a slight shadow over the proceedings.
Grum said this on December 4, 2008 at 6:29 am