In the course of human events, there does come a time when comedy is in order. Such was a time last month for me. I was choosing a book to read and I needed comedy.

“Morte D’Urban,” a novel by J. F. Powers (Doubleday, 1962), had been recommended by a trusted friend. It is brilliantly funny and, how wonderful, much more than that. 

Sometimes fictional books, when they’re written well, can give the same, if not more, insight to a people and culture than a history book can. Alan Paton’s “Cry, the Beloved Country” (Scribner, 2003, 316 pages) is one of those novels. 

A friend of mine suggested “Wild Swans” (Simon & Schuster, Reprint Edition, 2003, 538 pages) and to say it did not disappoint would be an understatement. This family history is written by Jung Chang, who recounts the lives of her grandmother, mother and finally herself. 

As a practitioner and student of poetry all my life, I’ve noticed that while there is a lot of poetry written well and with talented reach, at the same time, there is little current poetry that I’ve experienced that one would classify as being “wise” or “transcendent.”  

It’s the spring of 1873 in the Wyoming Territory, and U.S. Marshal Tim Colter and his grizzled mentor and best friend, mountain man Jed Reno, are hunting down some train robbers when they come across a man dying of gunshot wounds. The victim turns out to be a Secret Service agent who as he breathes his last says, “President Grant … assassination … Dugan … trust nobody.” 

“We are not human beings on a spiritual journey,

but rather spiritual beings on a human journey.”

Teilhard de Chardin

— from: “Thoreau’s God” 

Having read and relished Amor Towles’ “A Gentleman in Moscow,” I picked up the first novel he published, “Rules of Civility” (Penguin Books, 2012, 368 pages) prepared to enjoy it as well. Unfortunately, some satisfying experiences elude repetition. 

When it comes to reading, I can tend to be “the bigger, the better” type reader. I search for thick novels, dive headfirst into fantasy worlds, and am never dissuaded by the word trilogy (or better yet, series).

The adage “There are no atheists in foxholes” catches our attention, but is too broad and imprecise for universal application.

My oldest son runs ultra-marathons from time to time, whereas for me, an ultra-marathon is staying awake from 3 a.m. to 10 p.m. with just one nap. At any rate, this Christmas he gifted me with a copy of Jesse Itzler’s “Living with a SEAL: 31 Days Training with the Toughest Man on the Planet” (Center Street, 2016, 288 pages).