Epiphany Books

Heavy On My Mind:  Freedom Through Poetic Verse by Jeff Haskins is a wonderful portrayal of a man free of the restraints of hiding, one who is able to effectively express himself.  He speaks openly about various topics ranging in the spiritual, sensual, and even intellectual realm of his thoughts.  In the five sections of his book, Haskins focuses on "sex, love, and intimacy," "spirituality & religion," "the family unit," "political speaking," and closes the book with the section "heavy on my mind."

From this wonderful collection of thoughts, I found several to my liking.  A few were "Spiritual Love," "Take a Break Sister," and "Alone in a Crowd."  All of these poems force the reader to dig deep into their psyche and connect with the author, understanding more about themselves in the process.  Most people will be able to understand the type of spiritual love that transcends the conditional love of man, the union of man and woman, and the loneliness of being without someone you can truly depend on. These three poems are insightful and direct, but also inspiring; and only a small representation of this book.

Haskins has written a thought-provoking collection of poetry and essays which makes one reflect on life; the good and the bad.  Furthermore, he has done so in a smooth-flowing manner in which the reader is captured into the movement of his words, the power of their meaning, and the knowledge gained as a result of reading the book.  He doesn't write in any one particular rhyme or cadence, but mixes the various types of poetry to present a well-rounded ensemble that is easy to read, yet would be even more powerful as spoken word. I enjoyed Heavy on My Mind and look forward to future books by this author.

Reviewed by Miz Melody for Loose Leaves Book Review

Jeff's poetry profoundly reflects some of the passions and deepest sensualities of a man who is true and gracious with his feelings.

I am dazzled by the many areas which he delves into and discusses so freely. You definitely receive his slant on several prolific issues, but Jeff's poetry allows a freedom for the individual to identify with his elaborately strung words. His poetry also allows a freedom of formulating one's own's opinions. It's like having a discussion with the author.

Either way as a spoken word art or as a deep and meaningful read, the recipient will be left satisfied and yearning for more.

HEAVY ON MY MIND is the real deal. After reading Jeff Haskins collection of poetry, I was taken aback by the realism. His poetry does not come from a place of fantasy, but from the heart of a real Black man. He puts real issues into poetic verse.

His collection is divided into five sections titled "Sex, Love, and Intimacy", "Spirituality and Religiosity", "The Many Pieces of the Family Unit", "Politically Speaking" and "Heavy on My Mind". At the start of each of these sections, Haskins gives the reader his thoughts on the subject matter and the subsequent poems follow that theme. I found this to be rather unique. It provided me with the opportunity to feel the extra emotion behind the poetry.

This collection is appropriately titled HEAVY ON MY MIND. It explores real issues that have been on the conscience of the population at one time or another. His words properly convey the emotions, which I identified with and have experienced within my own life. This is a well written collection of poetry.

Reviewed by Aiesha Flowers
of The RAWSISTAZ Reviewers

The twentieth-century bohemian artist Caryll Houselander is a fascinating figure in English spirituality. Described by Maisie Ward as a "divine eccentric," the mystic Houselander focused her work on those on the margins, especially troubled children and refugees. Permeating her vision of God as Father and Mother was an empathy with others, a firm scriptural grounding, a gift for seeing the divine in the ordinary, an intuitive Christology, and a devotion to Mary and the saints.

In "A Child in Winter: Advent, Christmas, and Epiphany with Caryll Houselander," Thomas Hoffman has selected passages from Houselander's works and organized them into a series of daily meditations for Advent and the twelve days of Christmas. He provides a scriptural passage to introduce each meditation, followed by a brief comment and closing prayer.

The meditation for the Saturday of the first week of Advent has stuck in my mind. In a passage from "The Passion of the Infant Christ," Houselander makes a distinction between "expensive" and "simple" people. Expensive people are those whose demands on us -- whether because they are "untruthful or touchy or hypersensitive or that they have an exaggerated idea of their own importance or that they have a pose" -- are so complicated that "we cannot respond spontaneously and simply, without anxiety," to them. Simple persons, in contrast, are those who accept themselves as they are and consequently make only minimal demands on others. In his comment, Hoffman takes Houselander's trenchant remarks and suggests that fidelity to our baptismal vows will move us away from being "expensive" persons and result in an honest gift of self to others.

This was good spiritual reading to help keep the Christian in the mindset of the real meaning of this time dedicated to the incarnation and to help him truly appreciate the advent/Christmas season in all of its liturgical length--from the first Sunday of Advent to the Baptism of Jesus. Caryll Houselander's writings stand easily on their own, and are well worth reading in their full and original texts, but Hoffman's reflections and short prayers were usually a good addition. They are nicely arranged to fit the season. While it is more common to use this type of spiritual aid during Lent, this volume shows that Advent is an equally appropriate time to use the same sort of approach. During the hustle and bustle of December and the "new beginnings" of January, these little reflections, short as they each were, serve as a healthy opportunity to reflect on what it is all really about. Though the tree and decorations of the cultural celebration may have long been returned to their place in the attic, A Child in Winter carries the reader gently through to the absolute completion of this holy season.

This book is almost unreadable. Without a solid background in literary theory, deconstruction, death of god theology, Heidegger, Nietszche and other postmodern methodologies and persons, the words used are too big, too abstract, and too specialized to make any sense to a general readership. I sense that Winquist has something relevant to say, but it's going to take me quite a while to get a grip on the language. Winquist's co-edited 'Encyclopedia of Postmodernism' would be minimum background reading before even thinking of getting into Epiphanies. Perhaps the reason Death of God Theology never took off was because nobody could understand what it was saying !

Few religious thinkers have the philosophical sophistication of this author. This book is profound in its ability to bring together much of what is deepest and most disturbing in our age together with the reality of a theological desire for more.

"He'd never left that holy state while He was appearing to us as we were; that heavenly power was added to an infant body, and yet the earth's resources weren't any poorer...To them it's just plain embarrassing that God should walk around in a funny, ill-fitting body. To us, of course, it's a greatly encouraging sight." p 57

Griffen has compiled a rich resource of the reflections of one of the Church's great minds on one of the Church's great narratives. In a time of pithy refrains and a secular hijack of our season of worship this book is a refreshing resource. It just takes a little patience to get there. By a regrettable editorial choice he opens with a 47 page sermon on the genealogies and inner-marital chastity that Augustine was literally preaching for the second time because the first time he tried it his audience largely fell asleep - not good times. The sermons that follow however, soar with rich reflections on the temporal genesis of the God-man and the sublime intersection of the celestial and corporeal in the event of the incarnation.

One other note is that Griffen takes his `paraphrase translation' liberties to Eugene Petersonesqe extents. His adaptation of Augustine's Latin is often compelling but is sometimes just so contemporary that it seems a bit absurd or anachronistic. Regardless, these would be fantastic readings to integrate into either Protestant or Catholic reflections during the Advent/Christmas season. If you hunger for insights beyond `Jesus is the Reason for the Season' to center you on the Truth at the heart the Christian adaptation of the winter holiday, this is a great place to start...particularly around page 50.

There's no place like Hippo for the holidays. Especially when it's the turn of the fifth century and you've gotten yourself over to the cathedral early enough to score a good spot for the bishop's Mass. I'm telling you, that guy can flat-out preach.

Fast-forward 16 centuries. Many familiar with St. Augustine know him from his greatest written works, The Confessions and The City of God. Both are bedrocks in the Western literary canon, fussed over by students not only of literature, but also of history, philosophy and theology. But how many of us, his fawning fans included, know what it was like to have your ears tickled by the very voice of Christendom's greatest genius?

William Griffin thinks he has a pretty good idea. And he does a fine and fun job of putting his insights across in these translations of Augustine's Christmas-season sermons.

This is Augustine like you've never read him. Glib, pointed, playful, colloquial, streetwise: He'll say whatever needs to be said to get you to let the facts of Christ's coming open your mind, penetrate your heart and change your life. And, true to form, for all his crafty rhetorical flourishes, he doesn't speak a word or even think a thought that can't be directly traced to Scripture. We already knew that about the bishop of Hippo, but we haven't seen it relayed in quite this way before.

"Let's recognize this day for what it is, my dear Brothers and Sisters," Griffin's Augustine says of Christmas. "Let's pretend we ourselves are the day! Yes, when we were living unfaithfully, we were the night. Indeed the slip-sliding in our faith had made the nights longer and colder till day itself was about to be snuffed. That's how it was on the day Our Lord Jesus Christ was born. The shortest day of the year. The Winter Solstice. From this point onward in human history, the nights grew shorter, the days longer." John 1:9, anyone?

Just as Augustine was a dexterous and innovative interpreter of the Word of God, ever intent on making the Bible accessible to the widest possible swath of humanity, so Griffin shows himself a witty and creative interpreter of the words of Augustine. In fact, so breezy is the sermonizing here that many turns of phrase beg the question: At what point does Augustine leave off and Griffin pick up?

The latter drops some helpful clues. The largest single section of Griffin's informative and entertaining foreword is an apologia for his use of the paraphrasal method of translation, rather than the literal, in turning ancient Latin into contemporary English. It's an approach that allows him to present Augustine as he might sound were he alive today.

Naturally, it also permits plenty of leeway for artistic indulgence. "Neither [men nor women] should give the Creator the finger," Griffin has the saint saying, "for that horrible trick he played on them in the Garden."

The bishop of Hippo may well have been similarly jarring in person. But would he have used so low-brow an expression -- in a homily? I'm not sure, but I'm giving Griffin a pass on that passage and several others in the same vein because, on the whole, Augustine in this brusque, thoroughly modern voice is so arresting and thought-provoking. There are worse ways to get good theology. And I've seen no better way to absorb Augustine for Advent.

"The angel delivered the message," we read. "Kindly the Virgin listened to it. Against her better judgment she believed it. The conception took place. Faith in her soul. Christ in her womb. And that's all there was to it. ... What storyteller -- the great Isaiah included -- could do Justice to a birth like that?"

If Augustine wasn't up to the job, neither is William Griffin. But what a joy their combined efforts are to read -- make that hear -- as Christmastide comes each year.

David Pearson is features editor of the National Catholic Register.

This book is written in such a poetic way that it makes it an easy read. It's like you're reading someones diary. Yet, it offers words of comfort and inspiration. It gives parents the words to explain war to children and provides understanding for the loved ones of soldiers. I could read it over and over (sometimes I do!).

The book is filled with pretty interesting poetry. The fact that that's all there is is what's misleading. I was expecting more of a diary, not a collection of poems. If you'd rather read poems you'll definitly like it.

This is a nice collection. Don't be fooled (or discouraged) by the packaging, which tries to market these short pieces as "therapy and inspirational self-help". That makes them sound like New Age fluff. They're actually well-selected extracts and complete stories from some of literature's best writers. What they share is a moment in which the protagonist or the writer suddenly understands something significant - either about themselves, about life, or about the nature of reality. Commendably, editor Thomas Dyja doesn't skew his selection towards religion or to one particular philosophy, but rather gives us as broad a range of epiphanies as he does writing styles. There are some nice juxtapositions: none better than putting Henry James' dense yet rewarding "The Beast in the Jungle" up against a delightfully fresh extract from Jean Shepherd's "In God We Trust: All Others Pay Cash". What his selections show, time and again, is one of the great virtues of literature: the way it speaks up for what is hidden, for what we might otherwise have missed. It whispers through the fissures of the world.

This wonderful and thought provoking book shows a great view of the little things of life that all of us take for granted. The simple recitation of grace (the Catholic version) often gets lost in the motions. Brian Doyle makes you think about the little things that makes up your everyday beliefs and rituals that are taken for granted and not examined. The simple act of the sign of the cross, I had forgotten the symbolism. Every Catholic boy that served his rookie year on the altar has similar rememberances. I too had to learn all the prayers only to be told that Latin was no longer necessary. The experiences that he relates make you think about things long forgotten. Doyle's writing style is simple and to the point. He is stingy with words in much the way Hemmingway was. The book is broken up into nice small sections that are easilly read and re read. A great Vacation book!

A Mexican Christmas story, this book is lacking a few things. First, I had to go searching to find out which culture it was representing. Second, there was no background about the Mexican celebration of Christmas. In a way this was a good thing because it did not make the characters any different from anyone else; they were not a "minority", but simply people. However, I feel that American schoolchildren would have a hard time understanding what was happening in the story.

Familial bonds and magic of Christmas were a focus however. These are things that many people in the world can relate to. Because nothing was explicitly taught, it did not make the culture a novelty. But it did not ignore it either. I wish more "multicultural" books were done this way. The impact is effective, but no hard-hitting.

Why 4 stars?:
Secret Stars is a nice story about family and the magic of Christmas that takes place within the Mexican culture. However, the culture is not the dominant aspect of the book, which I really appreciated. However, I didn't find the book to be incredibly interesting or useful in the classroom. It does have a place and could be helpful with Mexican immigrant children.

I really enjoyed Mr.Fried's latest book, a work of great interest to anyone who has ever visited the mountains he has loved for so many years. His descriptions of the flora, fauna, weather and beauty of the Shawangunks inspire one to visit again--and perhaps spot a mountain lion. He really brings the region home to the reader, with great acumen and imagination.

I have NEVER quit reading a Star Trek book before the end until now. At page 150 I couldn't stand it any more. Three stories going on at the same time. Jumped all over the place and hard to follow. I would avoid this book at all costs. A waste of money in my opinion.

The first two books got me. Read them non-stop. Imagine the origins of not only Romulans but of Remans with a hint to the Watraii! But you can guess where this book goes immediately (I won't spoil it here) and not much else gets developed. Still worth it to complete the picture but not as good as #1 & 2. This three book series could have been done in two. Guess it was a money thing to get three books worth of cash out of us. It worked.