A Few of My Favorite Reads From 2016
Time once again for the annual tradition to make "Best of" lists! I didn't make a "top ten" this year, but in my defense many of the works I read were gigantic. Seriously, for me 2016 could in all fairness be titled the "Year of Ginormous Books."
It is typically difficult for me to stay with any one topic for too long. Some might call this a type of academic A.D.D. I like to think of it as my inclination toward interdisciplinary study, which certainly sounds much better however true it may or may not be. This year I had a number of different projects that catered nicely to my topic-hopping, as might be evident from the list below. As always, the list is in no particular order - and certainly not all of the books are actually from 2015/2016, though many are. I actually had the opportunity to read more novels this year (or, listen to them on my commute - Audible is a God-send), but I am reserving this list for academic works. At any rate, enjoy!
1.) Dotan Leshem, The Origins of Neo-Liberalism: Modeling the Economy from Jesus to Foucault (New York: Columbia University Press, 216), 248pp.
I am admittedly still working through this, but had to include it. An absolutely fascinating (and difficult) work, it intends (among other things) to extend and critique Georgio Agamben's research in The Kingdom and the Glory. In The Kingdom and the Glory, Agamben argues that the logics displayed in sovereignty and governmentality are actually secularizations of early Trinitarian theology's discussions of the relationship between theologia (God in Himself) and oikonomia (the economy of salvation). While Leshem notes "this book was not written with the intention of refuting Agamben's thesis" it can, nonetheless, be "read as one." Or perhaps better, he describes this work as a "displacement" of Agamben's by noting that "the key moment of the neoliberal marketized economy is not the early elaboration of Trinitarian theology in the second century CE, but rather the formulation of the creed of the Trinity and incarnation in the fourth and fifth centuries." This shift allows Leshem to pick up on many theological distinctions ignored by Agamben - for example the distinction between God's economy for humans as distinct from his general providence for the world. Moreover, "displacing the point of formation of contemporary economy and government to the era between Nicaea and Chalcedon brings into question Agamben's notion of economical theology" precisely because it is in this period (ignored by Agamben) that theology and economy could not longer be seen as strictly interchangeable. At any rate, the goal of this ambitious work is to demonstrate examining "the history of the meaning attributed to the word oikonomia and its applications [in theology] that signal out the Christianity of Late Antiquity as the transformative moment of its meaning and consequently of the ordering of the human trinity [economy, politics, philosophy]."
2.) Martin S. Rudwick, Earth's Deep History: How It Was Discovered And Why It Matters (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2014), 360pp.
This year I continued looking into works regarding the history and historiography of science and Christianity. One of the gems I found is the immensely readable and interesting Earth's Deep History. Rudwick for some time has been known as one of the world's leading experts on the history of geology, though I only recently discovered him myself. This book is a summary of his life's work, and as a wonderful bonus always keeps one eye on deconstructing the history of the so-called "conflict" of science and Christianity. As legends go, geology was the staggering blow that eventually led to Darwinism's finishing move on a beleaguered Christianity. Not so, says Rudwick, who notes not only that most geologists discovering chronologies different than the famous 4004B.C. date for creation were themselves Christian, Christian theology actually prepped the way for the acceptance of deep time. Amazingly, Rudwick even rehabilitates the much maligned Archbishop Ussher, whose chronology is so-often lambasted. Far from an ignorant Fundamentalist, Ussher was a man of letters who incorporated secular scholarship into his research. However wrong we may now think him, his methodology actually anticipated later scholarship and handling of ancient sources.
3.) Roland Boer and Christina Petterson, The Idols of Nations: Biblical Myth at the Origins of Capitalism (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2014), 208pp.
Another fascinating work that, like The Origins of Neo-Liberalism above, traces the theological origins of many economic notions. Here as well, their argument regarding the hegemony of economic theory on daily life is also the result of attempts to "de-theologize" and so universalize theological constructs. In particular they look at how the idea of the fall of man, the nature of Adam (and so humanity), and the providence of God play into four key thinkers: Hugo Grotius, John Locke, Adam Smith, and lastly Thomas Malthus. While it is certainly not meant as an exhaustive or definitive study, this study demonstrates quite brilliantly how broader theological issues played into the modern formation of economics. Moreover, these "theological" arguments and decisions (agree or disagree with them) haunt the myth of economics as a more or less "pure" science or mathematics. Not only is this not true in practice, many of the commonsense conceits taken for granted today are themselves theologically laden when one peers beneath the hood at the genealogies leading us to where we are today.
4.) Fleming Rutledge, The Crucifixion: Understanding The Death of Jesus Christ (Grand Rapids: Eerdman's Publishing, 2015), 696pp.
I won't belabor this too much as Derek Rishmawy already has an excellent review, as well as the fact that Christianity Today picked this as its top book of the year: so if you are interested in theology get this book. It is as beautiful and accessible as it is theologically robust. Don't let the size scare you, it is written with a pastoral heart and can, I think, be fruitfully read even if you completely ignore the scholarly apparatus of footnotes that line each page. This would probably have been my pick for best theology book if not for the brilliance of the next entry.
5.) John M.G. Barclay, Paul and the Gift (Grand Rapids: Eerdman's Publishing, 2015), 672pp.
The monstrous complexity and sheer ocean of literature that constitutes Pauline scholarship (not to mention technical discussions on "gift" among many postmodern authors) has kept me generally at bay. I keep having plans to dive in (next year, for example, I have decided its finally time to do a little more serious research), but such was the glowing praise for this book by Barclay that I decided to read it. I was not disappointed. I won't pretend to understand its true magnitude, as I am not very familiar with all of the scholarship it interacts with and overturns. That said, one hardly needs to be an expert to feel the force of argument and the sheer wealth of interdisciplinary prowess it took to create this masterpiece.
6.) Maximos the Confessor, On Difficulties in the Church Fathers (Vol. 1 and 2) trans. Nicholas Constas (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2014), 944p (2 volumes).
I have to thank my friend and mentor Dr. Jon Robertson for pointing this one out to me earlier this year. For the first time we now have available in two volumes a critical edition and English translation of the entirety of Maximus' Ambigua. And what is even more shocking: these are incredibly affordable. Now, I definitely have not read through these in their entirety, but if you are a Patristics buff stop what you are doing and get these. The critical edition of the Greek text is paired with Constas' solid (and often melodic) English translations on the opposite facing page. This has been a wonderful (and for me, challenging) opportunity to read large chunks of Greek outside the New Testament, from a figure as complex and intriguing as Maximus to boot.
7.) Mario Biagioli, Galileo, Courter: The Practice of Science in the Culture of Absolutism (Chicago: University of Chicago, 1994), 416pp.
Not from this year to be sure (1994, actually), I picked this work up when doing research on the Galileo affair earlier this year. I hadn't originally intended to read the whole thing (the number of works on Galileo is truly astounding), but was hooked from the first few pages. More well written and engaging than any work this detailed probably has the right to be, it weaves a tale of courtly intrigue, rights, and responsibilities that puts the Galileo controversy into a completely different light: 'Galileo's career [from beginning to end] was structured by the patronage structure of the baroque court" (349). Thus while theological and cosmological debates may have triggered initial controversy, what lay beneath were the intricate mechanics courtly life that would raise academic and aristocratic stars as soon as cast them back down to earth.
8.) David A. Williams, Deformed Discourse: The Function of the Monster in Medieval Thought and Literature (Ontario: McGill-Queens University Press, 1999), 408pp.
I've already written on this book a bit, so I'll keep this short. It is another slightly older work that I picked up this year when my research into the history of science and Christianity continually pointed me to "the monstrous" as an important angle of investigation (if you are curious, click the link just above where I talk more about this book). This book is much longer than it needs to be (Williams sometimes belabors his points), but it is nonetheless absolutely fascinating. Williams outlines the link between the figure of the monstrous in medieval literature and folklore, and how it is related to apophatic (or negative) theology. In short: discourse that was obviously "inappropriate" for God was often, paradoxically, seen as the best type of reference. For this reference referred to God while nonetheless never giving the impression that its "deformed" mode of reference could ever be confused with the referent--God himself. Coupled with this theory, the monstrous often became a way of signifying the act and nature of God in history precisely by disrupting while yet embodying social and ethical mores. Williams' study is also fascinating because it disrupts any easy natural/supernatural line that is often assumed by moderns to have existed in sharp relief during medieval times. Monstrous figures complicate these lines precisely by monsters often showing up as "natural" while nonetheless being signs of God's activity. The monster, so to speak, lets us know that the line between nature and supernature can never be known by us in advance, until God reveals the line but only by already always having crossed it in that announcement.
It is typically difficult for me to stay with any one topic for too long. Some might call this a type of academic A.D.D. I like to think of it as my inclination toward interdisciplinary study, which certainly sounds much better however true it may or may not be. This year I had a number of different projects that catered nicely to my topic-hopping, as might be evident from the list below. As always, the list is in no particular order - and certainly not all of the books are actually from 2015/2016, though many are. I actually had the opportunity to read more novels this year (or, listen to them on my commute - Audible is a God-send), but I am reserving this list for academic works. At any rate, enjoy!
I am admittedly still working through this, but had to include it. An absolutely fascinating (and difficult) work, it intends (among other things) to extend and critique Georgio Agamben's research in The Kingdom and the Glory. In The Kingdom and the Glory, Agamben argues that the logics displayed in sovereignty and governmentality are actually secularizations of early Trinitarian theology's discussions of the relationship between theologia (God in Himself) and oikonomia (the economy of salvation). While Leshem notes "this book was not written with the intention of refuting Agamben's thesis" it can, nonetheless, be "read as one." Or perhaps better, he describes this work as a "displacement" of Agamben's by noting that "the key moment of the neoliberal marketized economy is not the early elaboration of Trinitarian theology in the second century CE, but rather the formulation of the creed of the Trinity and incarnation in the fourth and fifth centuries." This shift allows Leshem to pick up on many theological distinctions ignored by Agamben - for example the distinction between God's economy for humans as distinct from his general providence for the world. Moreover, "displacing the point of formation of contemporary economy and government to the era between Nicaea and Chalcedon brings into question Agamben's notion of economical theology" precisely because it is in this period (ignored by Agamben) that theology and economy could not longer be seen as strictly interchangeable. At any rate, the goal of this ambitious work is to demonstrate examining "the history of the meaning attributed to the word oikonomia and its applications [in theology] that signal out the Christianity of Late Antiquity as the transformative moment of its meaning and consequently of the ordering of the human trinity [economy, politics, philosophy]."
This year I continued looking into works regarding the history and historiography of science and Christianity. One of the gems I found is the immensely readable and interesting Earth's Deep History. Rudwick for some time has been known as one of the world's leading experts on the history of geology, though I only recently discovered him myself. This book is a summary of his life's work, and as a wonderful bonus always keeps one eye on deconstructing the history of the so-called "conflict" of science and Christianity. As legends go, geology was the staggering blow that eventually led to Darwinism's finishing move on a beleaguered Christianity. Not so, says Rudwick, who notes not only that most geologists discovering chronologies different than the famous 4004B.C. date for creation were themselves Christian, Christian theology actually prepped the way for the acceptance of deep time. Amazingly, Rudwick even rehabilitates the much maligned Archbishop Ussher, whose chronology is so-often lambasted. Far from an ignorant Fundamentalist, Ussher was a man of letters who incorporated secular scholarship into his research. However wrong we may now think him, his methodology actually anticipated later scholarship and handling of ancient sources.
Another fascinating work that, like The Origins of Neo-Liberalism above, traces the theological origins of many economic notions. Here as well, their argument regarding the hegemony of economic theory on daily life is also the result of attempts to "de-theologize" and so universalize theological constructs. In particular they look at how the idea of the fall of man, the nature of Adam (and so humanity), and the providence of God play into four key thinkers: Hugo Grotius, John Locke, Adam Smith, and lastly Thomas Malthus. While it is certainly not meant as an exhaustive or definitive study, this study demonstrates quite brilliantly how broader theological issues played into the modern formation of economics. Moreover, these "theological" arguments and decisions (agree or disagree with them) haunt the myth of economics as a more or less "pure" science or mathematics. Not only is this not true in practice, many of the commonsense conceits taken for granted today are themselves theologically laden when one peers beneath the hood at the genealogies leading us to where we are today.
I won't belabor this too much as Derek Rishmawy already has an excellent review, as well as the fact that Christianity Today picked this as its top book of the year: so if you are interested in theology get this book. It is as beautiful and accessible as it is theologically robust. Don't let the size scare you, it is written with a pastoral heart and can, I think, be fruitfully read even if you completely ignore the scholarly apparatus of footnotes that line each page. This would probably have been my pick for best theology book if not for the brilliance of the next entry.
The monstrous complexity and sheer ocean of literature that constitutes Pauline scholarship (not to mention technical discussions on "gift" among many postmodern authors) has kept me generally at bay. I keep having plans to dive in (next year, for example, I have decided its finally time to do a little more serious research), but such was the glowing praise for this book by Barclay that I decided to read it. I was not disappointed. I won't pretend to understand its true magnitude, as I am not very familiar with all of the scholarship it interacts with and overturns. That said, one hardly needs to be an expert to feel the force of argument and the sheer wealth of interdisciplinary prowess it took to create this masterpiece.
I have to thank my friend and mentor Dr. Jon Robertson for pointing this one out to me earlier this year. For the first time we now have available in two volumes a critical edition and English translation of the entirety of Maximus' Ambigua. And what is even more shocking: these are incredibly affordable. Now, I definitely have not read through these in their entirety, but if you are a Patristics buff stop what you are doing and get these. The critical edition of the Greek text is paired with Constas' solid (and often melodic) English translations on the opposite facing page. This has been a wonderful (and for me, challenging) opportunity to read large chunks of Greek outside the New Testament, from a figure as complex and intriguing as Maximus to boot.
Not from this year to be sure (1994, actually), I picked this work up when doing research on the Galileo affair earlier this year. I hadn't originally intended to read the whole thing (the number of works on Galileo is truly astounding), but was hooked from the first few pages. More well written and engaging than any work this detailed probably has the right to be, it weaves a tale of courtly intrigue, rights, and responsibilities that puts the Galileo controversy into a completely different light: 'Galileo's career [from beginning to end] was structured by the patronage structure of the baroque court" (349). Thus while theological and cosmological debates may have triggered initial controversy, what lay beneath were the intricate mechanics courtly life that would raise academic and aristocratic stars as soon as cast them back down to earth.
I've already written on this book a bit, so I'll keep this short. It is another slightly older work that I picked up this year when my research into the history of science and Christianity continually pointed me to "the monstrous" as an important angle of investigation (if you are curious, click the link just above where I talk more about this book). This book is much longer than it needs to be (Williams sometimes belabors his points), but it is nonetheless absolutely fascinating. Williams outlines the link between the figure of the monstrous in medieval literature and folklore, and how it is related to apophatic (or negative) theology. In short: discourse that was obviously "inappropriate" for God was often, paradoxically, seen as the best type of reference. For this reference referred to God while nonetheless never giving the impression that its "deformed" mode of reference could ever be confused with the referent--God himself. Coupled with this theory, the monstrous often became a way of signifying the act and nature of God in history precisely by disrupting while yet embodying social and ethical mores. Williams' study is also fascinating because it disrupts any easy natural/supernatural line that is often assumed by moderns to have existed in sharp relief during medieval times. Monstrous figures complicate these lines precisely by monsters often showing up as "natural" while nonetheless being signs of God's activity. The monster, so to speak, lets us know that the line between nature and supernature can never be known by us in advance, until God reveals the line but only by already always having crossed it in that announcement.
Comments