The Romantic Exiles

After rereading Tom Stoppard’s The Coast of Utopia, I needed to read E.H. Carr’s The Romanitic Exiles, the source that inspired Stoppard to write his trilogy.

Carr’s historical account, written in 1933, reads very much like a Russian novel, yet he relies heavily on primary sources, especially diaries and correspondence of the principal individual Alexander Herzen and his wife Natalie. Just in the seven months that Natalie was writing to her lover, George Herwegh, she sent him over 150 letters, most of which still exist. Carr also emphasizes the long, detailed interviews he had with Herzen and Natalie’s oldest daughter Tata and Herwegh and Emma’s son Marcel.

Carr provides immensely valuable explanations and historical context throughout. For instance, while reading The Coast of Utopia, I questioned the moral behavior of all the characters with their affairs and dysfunctional relationships. Carr demonstrates that Herzen’s background, for instance, contributes to his behavior. Herzen was an illegitimate son of the aristocratic, wealthy father and a serf woman. His father never married, yet he had numerous children by different serf mothers. Just prior to Herzen’s father’s death, he wanted to prevent his brother and other family members from taking over his land and wealth, so he named Alexander as his sole heir—Alexander inherited a fortune.

Alexander falls in love with his first cousin Natalie. Their fathers were brothers, and Natalie’s father also did not marry, yet he kept what he called a “harem” of serf women. However, once the children were born, he would move them into his estate homes while he kept the women in their separate rural villages. The children, essentially, did not have mothers and were cared for by servants.
When Natalie was young, her father’s sister who was a princess (she had married a Russian prince), wanted to raise the violet-eyed, fair-skinned, dark-haired Natalie. Natalie was raised in a home with every luxury, yet her aunt was cold and unapproachable. No wonder Natalie is always searching for love.

Carr provides many insights into Alexander’s and Natalie’s marriage and family life. They both wanted a strong family, and they worked hard towards it, but they both had affairs, yet always returned to each other. They had six children, three of whom died at birth. The three surviving children were Tata (Natalie), Sasha (Alexander), and Kolya who was a deaf mute tragically killed with his grandmother on a steamship that sank. Natalie has another child Olga who has Herzen’s last name, but is the child of Herwegh and Natalie.

After Kolya’s death, Natalie’s health soon fails, and she dies. The children are raised by a couple of German governesses until Natalie’s best friend Natalie (Natasha) Tuchov who is the mistress to Herzen’s best friend Nicholas Ogarev. Herzen and Natalie have an ongoing affair and have Liza and twins (a boy and a girl) who die of diptheria in Paris.

While the focus of The Romantic Exiles is on Alexander Herzen, there are equally interesting and involved stories of Alexander Bakunin and Nicholas Ogarev and their personal lives and affairs. And of course, equally detailed are accounts of these individuals’ political lives as they live in exile from their beloved Russia.

Carr’s book helps me to get even a more full portrait of these individuals and their real-to-life yet sad lives. At one point, I questioned whether I should continue to use The Coast of Utopia in my class because the reading is so difficult, but now, I want to help make it more accessible to my students as they get glimpses into these fascinating people’s lives.

Horace Robedaux

I’ve added a new person to my favorite character list—it’s Horace Robedaux. Over the last two weeks I’ve been able to read the nine plays in Horton Foote’s The Orphans’ Home Cycle. These plays begin in 1902 in Harrison, Texas when Horace is twelve years old and his father dies.

Although Horace isn’t an orphan, his parents were separated, and his mother remarries and leaves Horace on his own. He does have kind aunts, uncles, and grandparents, but Horton does not receive any breaks in life. He quits school in the sixth grade to support himself by running a rural country store for convicts. However, through it all, Horace remains steady and good. Through his own determination and resources he does complete a business course in Houston.

One of the most poignant moments in the entire cycle is when Horace finally saves enough money over the years to buy a tombstone for his father. His father seems to have been the only individual who expresses concern, love, and guidance for Horace—the rest of the time Horace seems to be on his own.

Yet, we see the maturing Horace fall in love with Elizabeth Vaughn, and these two unlikely pair develop a strong, loving, enduring relationship, and the two of them continue to struggle together. These two are the only two solid, stable, consistent characters in the entire cycle. They just continue to do their best and to be good no matter what heartache or challenge comes their way.

At one point in an interview, Horton Foote said, “I believe very deeply in the human spirit, and I have a sense of awe about it.”

The cycle ends in 1928, again in Harrison, Texas, at the death of Elizabeth’s father. This cycle bookends are the deaths of good fathers and the impact on Horace. Horace has grown from a lost, wandering son to be a strong, solid, loving father who has established with Elizabeth a home refuge to meet whatever storm comes their way. He is a good, good man.

The nine plays in the chronological cycle include the following:
Roots in a Parched Ground
Convicts
Lily Dale
The Widow Claire
Courtship
Valentine’s Day
1918
Cousins
The Death of Papa

Coast of Utopia

This week I’ve reread Tom Stoppard’s trilogy play The Coast of Utopia. This nine-hour play won a Tony award in 2007 for best drama, but it’s a very complicated play. There are over seventy characters, most with Russian names, so it’s very hard keeping everyone straight. Without a doubt, this play is the most challenging reading my students do all semester. It’s so tough that only a few make it through the plays.

However, upon rereading the plays, I’m recognizing more and more the power of these individuals and the message. The play focuses on real-life Russian intellectuals from 1830-1870. These well-educated, aristocratic, incredibly wealthy philosophers and doers rejected their privileged lives of czarist Russia to fight for political and economic freedom of enslaved serfs. Some of the characters came from families that owned 4,000 male serfs, but they gave it all up to fight these freedoms.

Most of these characters were imprisoned in work camps simply for speaking or writing against the czar. Because of their views, their writing weren’t allowed to be published, or if they did get published, they were banned. All of the characters in the play are exiled and find themselves still fighting for these freedoms in Germany, France, Italy, and England. From these hidings, they continued to write and influence both the landed class and laborers which eventually won freedom for the serfs in 1861 under Czar Alexander I.

Despite the noble intentions of these characters seeking the betterment of others, their own personal lives continued to spiral out of control. As they were seeking for others’ freedom, they did not found their own actions in personal morality—they used liberty as an excuse for any type of personal restraint. Their personal relationships were fluid and unhappy. They always were searching, but they failed to have a strong moral foundation.

They are trying to sail to an ideal, utopian existence, but because they don't have the moral direction, they just don't seem to reach happiness and peace.

Again and again, I’m reminded that through commandments and doing what’s right do we really find freedom and liberty and happiness.

So we need to keep doing the work that we’re doing and remember who we are. Our Heavenly Father has a great work for us, and we are preparing for that.

My Hands are Yours

This week I read Alan Paton’s powerful novel Cry, the Beloved Country. I’ve seen the movie numerous times when I would show it in my contemporary world literature class, but I had never read the book before.

The setting is 1946 apartheid South Africa. It is the story of two fathers: the black Anglican priest Stephen Kumalo and the white landowner James Jarvis. These two fathers struggle to understand their own sons whose lives have been tragically connected. It’s about two good, good fathers who love their sons, who suffer for the pains of fatherhood, and who find continued redemption through their sons.

I don’t want to reveal the plot, but rarely have fictional characters become so real and alive as Kumalo, Jarvis, and the other priest Theophilius Msimangu. Some critics have claimed that Cry, the Beloved County is every much a Christian allegory of suffering and redemption as Pilgrim’s Progress or as Dante’s Inferno. Just reading that book gives me renewed hope in others, in myself, and especially in the Savior and His cleansing and healing Atonement.

These families that Alan Paton creates are in sharp contrast to James Goldman’s family in The Lion in Winter. This is a play about King Henry II and his wife Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine. It’s Christmas in 1183 England. It’s the one time of the year that King Henry allows Eleanor out of her imprisoned exile to be with their three sons, John, Geoffrey, and Richard. All three sons are vying and conniving and deceiving with their parents to inherit the kingdom at the expense of their brothers. It is a play of hatred, anger, deceit, and power.

Whereas, Cry the Beloved Country is only about love, forgiveness, sacrifice, and peace through suffering. A phrase that Msimangu speaks to Kumalo as they begin their journey to seek the lost son Absalom is, “My hands are yours.” This becomes an extended metaphor that by offering our own selves to others in service and love will we find what we’re searching for, including peace.

Also, repeated numerous times in the novel are the greetings, “Go well, stay well.”

So this week, may you go well and stay well.

Made to Prosper

I’ve never done much with the Pearl of Great Price, except for the last few weeks. It started when Elder Bednar came to stake conference and in a brief passing comment said we should study carefully Moses 6-7. So I did and was amazed at its fullness. I’ve also been reading Genesis and Exodus because I want to learn more about Adam and Eve; Abraham, Sarah and Hagar; Isaac and Rebekah; Jacob, Leah, Rachel, Bilhah, and Zilpah; Joseph and Asenath; and Moses and Zipporah. So because of those readings, I’ve gone to the books of Moses and Abraham.

Of course, the Book of Mormon is my favorite, but I’m discovering the strength and power of these ancient prophets. Yesterday while I was looking for another book in the library, I stumbled on Hugh Nibley’s Enoch the Prophet. I’ve checked it out and look forward to reading.

Last night I finished reading Marilynne Robinson’s Pulitzer prize winning Gilead. I mentioned it a couple weeks ago when I was reading its sequel Home. The two novels parallel each other told from the two points of view of two aged ministers. In Gilead, the 73-year-old Reverend John Ames is writing a journal to his young 7-year-old son, so his son will remember him after what will soon be this good man’s death. It’s also the story of Reverend Ames’ forgiveness of John Ames Boughton, his best friend’s wayward son.

In one of the most touching scenes in all of the literature I’ve read, Reverend Ames sits on a bus stop bench to bless the troubled but good John Ames Boughton—his simple prayer: “The Lord make His face to shine upon thee and be gracious unto thee: The Lord lift up His countenance upon thee, and give thee peace. . . . Lord, bless John Ames Boughton, this beloved son and brother and husband and father.”

The 40+-year-old prodigal John Boughton has suffered so very much in his life, yet he always seems to fall far short. The aged Reverend Ames has learned over the years the power of the Savior’s Atonement. He explains that the Greek word sozo, which is usually translated “saved,” and also mean “healed” and “restored.” In Gilead, there is sense of being saved, and healed, and restored.

While reading about ancient Joseph this week, I was encouraged by the repeated statement: “Because the Lord was with [Joseph], and that which he did, the Lord made it to prosper” (Genesis 39:23).

So,we all need to be saved, healed, and restored. And that is only possible through the Savior’s atonement. And we are also given the same promise as Joseph’s: with Heavenly Father’s and the Savior’s love and help, our attempts will be made to prosper.

May we prosper this week.

General Prophets

I have recently read Milton’s Paradise Lost. I have never read the entire poem, only excerpts from my undergraduate years with Professor Waterstradt. I remember sensing the poem’s significance, but I’ve been so intimidated by it for all these years that I’ve not touched it since.

However, I’m grateful for this recent reading. It is a difficult read, but it is worth the effort. I read it in preparation for a class I’m teaching this fall on Creating Peace, and I wanted to use parts of Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained. So now I’m trying to determine what passages and what approaches to make this selection meaningful and workable in class.

Initially, when I thought about it, I would consider Satan’s dialogues which are very captivating and memorable, and I have suddenly realized that Satan’s intrigue is one of his tools. Satan can easily be seen as the hero or protagonist of Paradise Lost because of the focus he demands. However, the protagonists are Adam and Eve and their creation, fall, and redemption. It’s because of their actions, because of their faith, because of their submission to God that makes them the epic heroes with qualities for us to emulate.

What I’ve learned from Paradise Lost is that every mature person has lost paradise within. Everyone confronts temptation and choice; everyone falls, or loses innocence. Many also experience some kind of regeneration, through the Savior, through love for others, through families, and through service. Paradise Lost deepens our understanding of relationships between parent and child, husband and wife, individual and God. Through this poem I realize that as a father who watches his sons struggle, grow, assume responsibility, and make their own decisions, that at times they will fall, but that through the Savior’s love and Father’s great plan, all will work out for our good.

This poem is also powerful in its depiction of war, or eternal wars. The war is Satan against God and His plan, and Satan wants us to be the casualties—he’ll use every subtle and brazen tactic to destroy us. But as Paradise Lost shows us, God provides teachers, prophets, angels, and families to strengthen and heal us. The War in Heaven still continues in full force. But it wasn’t until just this morning I realized the real and symbolic image that reminds us of this battle and of our promise to succeed and win. That image is the Angel Moroni who stands atop nearly all the temples of the world. Moroni is both a prophet and a general who leads spiritual and temporal war against Satan. At times it may appear that Satan has won, but that glorious angel blowing his trumpet above the temples powerfully announces to the world that God the Father and His Son Jesus Christ are our leaders, and if we turn to Them, we will be successful and blessed and protected in this great war that will end at the Son’s Coming to usher in peace and righteousness.

Wandering Sons

This week I read Marilynne Robinson’s Home. Home is a companion novel to her 2004 Pulitzer Prize winning novel Gilead. These novels are about two aging ministers during the 1950s in the small town of Gilead, Iowa. These two best friends are ministers in different churches. Reverend John Ames of Gilead is the minister of the Congregationalists while Reverend Robert Boughton is the Presbyterian minister. These are two men of faith, good men who are also fathers. Reverend Ames lost his wife and child early in life, and after all these years, he has married late in life and has a new, young son. Gilead is about what Ames wants his young son to learn about him in the short time they have together.

Home, on the other hand, is about the end of the widowed Reverend Boughton’s life whose caregiver is his 38 year-old daughter Glory. Boughton’s alcoholic prodigal son Jack returns home after a twenty-year absence—no word from him for twenty years. This novel is a poignant, tender, powerful novel of a father and son who desperately try to reconcile and find peace. This is a novel of healing, but it does contain so much pain. There were several times while reading that my heart ached and eyes teared for either the father or for the son.

I assume much of my connection with this novel is my own good relationship with my sons. I’ve been very blessed to be aware of my sons’ own individual struggles and their often feelings of inadequacies and self-assumed not measuring up to some self-imposed standards. They often feel they fall short. I’m also blessed as a teacher to know other fathers’ sons who feel they don’t measure up and are sometimes disappointments to themselves.

The Parable of the Prodigal Son has always been meaningful to me. I’m always so touched by the warm, welcoming, tight hug the father gives his son as he sees the return. I imagine the father running to his uncertain son to hold him, to heal him, to love him.

This week I’ve also read Milton’s Paradise Lost, and saw again the prodigal son in the Father’s relationship with Adam who is good, who does want to be obedient, yet he fails to measure up and falls. And of course, there is the extreme prodigal son of Lucifer who willfully, angrily, demonically leaves his Father’s home. Lucifer will never return to his Father. But some of the most powerful passages of Paradise Lost is when the Father, His Son Jesus Christ, or angels explain to Adam how he can return to Father through the Atonement of Christ. Father pleads for Adam’s return.

Even the great Nephi in his lament cries, “O wretched man that I am! Yea, my heart sorroweth because of my flesh; my soul grieveth because of mine iniquities” (2 Nephi 4:17). However, Nephi soon turns to Heaven for help: “Nevertheless, I know in whom I have trusted. My God hath been my support; he hath led me through mine afflictions in the wilderness” (2 Nephi 4:17, 20).

Soif there is ever a time when we feel we don’t measure up or that we feel we’re a wandering son, know that there are those who know we do measure up, who are grateful for our goodness and our strength, and who are confident we’re heading in the right direction to return Home.

Revelation and Sarah

This week has been testimony strengthening. It hasn’t been anything spectacular but just simple, quiet, and reaffirming.

Our stake was reorganized this week, and Elder David A. Bednar accompanied a member of the Quorum of Seventy. Since the Bednars were in our ward and in our stake, it was a very comfortable, almost intimate experience for me. There’s something about being in his and Sister Bednar’s presence when they bear their testimonies and share their experiences.

And on Sunday, he answered the question, “How do you know if you’re receiving revelation or if you’re just responding to your personal feelings?” His response was, “It doesn’t matter. Just be a good boy or a good girl, keep the commandments and your covenants, do your best, and in time you will receive a witness that you’re doing what your Heavenly Father wants you to do.” He said that he has learned as an apostle that the process for him to receive revelation is the same as it was for him before and as it is for everyone else. The witness or revelation doesn’t come until after we’ve acted on our faith in the Lord. He shared a few experiences, including this last conference talk he gave about safety through the temple. He had another talk prepared and submitted, until two days before the translation deadline. He woke up feeling uncomfortable with that talk for this time. He knew he had to prepare another talk, but all he could think about was a scripture that came to his mind during the Rexburg temple dedication: “that thy servants may go forth from this house armed with thy power, and that thy name may be upon them” (D&C 109:22).

He didn’t know why that scripture or what his talk was going to be—he just acted on the prompting and began to study and prepare, and he submitted his talk. He simply acted on a feeling; he didn’t hear a voice telling him to change his talk, he didn’t get direction on the topic, he didn’t have the talk dictated to him, he didn’t wake up to find the talk written out for him, and even when he prepared the talk, he didn’t know why he was to change his original topic. It wasn’t until after he followed Elder Oaks’ talk of service, covenants, and temples and until after Elder Gary Stevenson followed him with his talk on “Sacred Homes, Sacred Temples” that Elder Bednar knew why he had received that feeling that he should change his talk—his talk was to fit between these other two.

This week I read Orson Scott Card’s Sarah, the story of Abraham’s wife Sarah. She is such a perfect example of an individual who kept her covenants and her faith with a life-time of praying for a child. Of course she felt discouraged, hurt, and at times abandoned. She didn’t understand why her prayers weren’t answered the way she wanted them answered. Yet she remained faithful and true. However, Heavenly Father had another plan, and she was very much an important part of that plan, and He heard her prayers and answered them with Isaac in His own due time.

And also this week, I finished George Q. Cannon’s The Life of Joseph Smith the Prophet. We're so blessed to live in a time of prophets, seers, and revelators. I know our prayers and heard and answered, that our Heavenly Father is aware of us—both our goodness and our struggles. Stay close to Him, and we will feel His presence when we need it most. He loves us.

Honor, Covenants, Moses

When the Prophet Joseph accepted the Presidential nomination, in his speech he listed his platform. I really like this one: “Make honor the standard of all men.”

We are a people of honor. We are also a people of covenants. I didn’t realize until this week, that whenever we make covenants with our Heavenly Father, He blesses us with strength and power to fulfill those covenants. For example, when we covenant at baptism, He promises us the gift of the Holy Ghost. When we covenant in the sacrament to take upon us the name of Christ, to always remember Him, and to keep His commandments, He promises that we will always have His Spirit to be with us. When we go to the temple to make those sacred covenants, He promises to endow us with power from on high.

We have been blessed by covenants and with covenants to receive strength and power. I was able to get a glimpse of this while reading Orson Scott Card’s book Stone Tables a fictional account of Moses. I liked it. I was intrigued by the differences in Moses as he led with the proud knowledge and strength of man as a son of Pharoah, but it was in sharp contrast to leading as a humble servant and prophet of God under sacred covenants.

So I’ve also been reading Exodus and the Book of Moses. In the first chapter of Moses, this now shepherd/prophet shares his meeting with and learning from God on the Mount. Repeatedly God tells Moses, “Thou art my son,” and Moses covenants with God. Soon after the glory of God leaves him, Satan appears to Moses asking to be worshipped. Listen to Moses’ defiant response: “Get thee hence, Satan; deceive me not; for God said unto me: Thou art after the similitude of mine Only Begotten.”

Because of Moses’ preparation and because of his covenants, God blesses Moses with a true knowledge of his relationship with Father and with the strength to rebuke temptation and Satan.

Armed in Mercy

In a prayer, the Prophet Joseph pled for the Saints to be “armed in mercy.” That phrase intrigues me—we don’t generally think of mercy as a weapon, as a source of strength. Yet the Prophet clearly understands the power of compassion and forgiveness—two manifestations of mercy.

This week I’ve read three plays which demonstrate the devastation resulting with the lack of mercy in individuals’ lives. I reread Arthur Miller’s Death of a Salesman. I’m embarrassed to admit that I haven’t read this play since I was an undergraduate at least thirty years ago. At that time I disliked Willy Lohman because I saw him as a demented old man who lived in another world. I was looking at Willy through my eyes of just starting a career with all its possibilities. However, now, I see Willy differently with eyes nearing the end of my career. Yes, I see Willy’s mistakes and failures, but I’m empathetic towards him.

The next day I read another Arthur Miller play—one I had never heard of before: All My Sons. Immediately I’m pulled into the play and into main characters because they are the Keller family in 1947. I like Joe Keller, his wife Kate Keller, and their son Chris Keller. They are likeable, and we feel their continued mourning for their son Larry who died in World War II. We gradually learn the nightmare that Joe Keller knowingly manufactured some faulty airplane parts that caused the unnecessary deaths of American pilots during the war.

And I read Judith Thompson’s recent play Palace of the End. Thompson’s play consists of three separate monologues based on news stories involving the real person named as the speaker in the play. The first monologue My Pyramids is told through Lynndie England, the female American soldier convicted of tortue of Iraqi detainees in Abu Ghraib prison. The second monologue Harrowdown Hill is based on the publicized life and death of Dr. David Kelly, the British weapons inspector and microbiologist. And the final monologue Instruments of Yearning is based on the true story of Nehrjas Al Saffarh, a well-known member of the Communist party of Iraq, who was tortured by Saddam Hussein’s secret police in the 1970s. She died when her home was bombed by the Americans in the first Gulf War.

Not one of these characters in any of the three plays exhibits or receives mercy. The lack of mercy destroys them as individuals and as families. I know see that mercy, especially the divine gifts of compassion and forgiveness strengthen lives and provide us with hope and peace. So much of our unhappiness, especially in relationships, can find peace through godly and individual mercy.

Hell into Heaven

The more I learn about the Prophet Joseph, the more I sense his goodness and strength. Shortly after the dreadful Missouri persecution period, some mobsters threatened that they would drive the Saints down to hell. When the Prophet heard about it, he remarked, “Never mind, brethren, if they do drive us to hell, we’ll turn out the devil and make it heaven.” Joseph wasn’t being just idealistic and optimistic—he had a very acute sense of the reality and the difficulties and terrors that are possible, but he also had a clear perspective of the future and what work with God’s help can accomplish. He saw the future as positive and hopeful. He knew it would take work and faith—Joseph saw possibilities.

This week I stumbled on a play that I had never read before. It was the poet Archibald MacLeish’s J.B. This 1959 Pulitzer Prize play is a modern retelling of the Biblical Job. I have to admit that Job’s story is difficult for me. It’s hard for me to see someone so good (described as “perfect”) suffer so much—he loses everything, and it all seems so meaningless. Yet this same account reminds me again and again, that no matter how forlorn we feel, no matter how much we lose, no matter how terrible our nightmares and difficulties, we really are not alone. The world tries to get us to see how alone we are, how all is lost, but through persevering faith, we will know that God is with us, even if we don’t understand and even if we don’t always feel His presence. Our Father will restore and bless us beyond measure.

This week I also read Joseph Banks’ A Distant Prayer: Miracles of the 49th Mission. Brother Banks is LDS who was a flight engineer in World War II. After 50 missions, flight crews could go home from the war. On Banks’ 49th mission, he is shot down over Germany, and is the only survivor of his crew. He becomes a POW, and this book is about his survival in concentration camps, 600+ mile prison march in winter with only ragged shirt, pants, and shoes, about his escape, and most importantly about his faith and determination to survive.

I read these stories, and I question what power these individuals must have to keep going. But I begin to think of individuals I know who have struggled for years with debilitating illnesses and pain, but they continue day after day. For many of them, others are simply unaware of these heroic but so quiet struggles and even more quiet even imperceptible victories these individuals face alone. In their own agonies, they become and are Saints.

I know we all have our own quiet, difficult struggles. We must continue day after day, even when we question your own strength. We need to remember that there are those who know us and love us, have faith not only in us but in our Heavenly Father. He’ll strengthen us and help us turn our private hells into glorious heavens.

Families and Manliness

I've read two powerful novels this week—they’re all about strong marriages and family relationships.

To help me prepare to teach Toni Morrison’s new novel, A Mercy. this week in English 336 as a companion piece to McCarthy’s The Road, I reread Morrison’s Pulitzer Prize and Nobel Prize novel Beloved. Sethe is a young slave whose new master allows his slaves to marry and raise a family without fear of being sold or broken apart. She and Halle marry and have four children. Unfortunately, their master dies, and they decide to run away to keep their family intact. Halle is killed, but Sethe and the children reach freedom in Ohio. When the new master tracks her and the children down, Sethe, wanting to protect her children from slavery, begins to kill her children. She is only able to kill her toddler Beloved. The novel is about the consequences of that event on her, her sons, and especially her daughter Denver. Beloved haunts their lives. It is an incredibly powerful novel—well worth the painful read. I also liked the strong male characters of Paul D and Stamp Paid--good, good men.

I also read Elizabeth Stout’s Olive Kitteridge, this year’s Pulitzer Prize winner. It is a great, great book about maturing relationships. It’s episodic which means each of the thirteen chapters reads as a separate short story, but it pulls together revealing events and characters pertaining to Olive Kitteridge and her husband Henry. Olive and Henry very much remind me of Anne Tyler characters, and the organization remind me of Sandra Benitez's A Place Where the Sea Remembers.

And I’m still reading George Q. Cannon’s The Life of the Prophet Joseph Smith. A particularly good chapter this week was titled “Manliness of Joseph.” It provided a lot of physical descriptions of him and his strength and gentleness. Also much of the chapter were impressions of the Prophet from non-LDS people who had met him. I’m so touched by Joseph’s integrity and goodness to all. He was never two-faced—he was who he was both in private and in public. He wasn’t fragmented—he was whole, complete. I know much of that is a result of refinement through trials and the Spirit, but I also assume it also results from a man who truly loved and served others.

Gods and Gifts

I finished The Aeneid this week, so I’ve made it through the great triumvirate: The Iliad, The Odyssey, and now The Aeneid. However, what really makes them significant are the lessons about relationships with others including friends, family, and the gods.

Of course, the gods are very closely connected with individuals’ lives. In fact, this is as much a battle among the gods as it is between the Greeks and the Trojans. Here in The Iliad is a passage about Zeus and Poseidon taking opposite sides:

After Zeus had brought Hector and the Trojans
To the Greek ships, he left the combatants
To their misery and turned his luminous eyes
Far away. . . .
He never dreamed that any of the immortals
Would go to help the Trojans or the Greeks.

But Poseidon wasn’t blind. He sat high
On the topmost peak of wooded Samothrace,
Marveling at the war going on beneath him.
He could see all Ida, and Priam’s city [Troy],
And the Greek ships, from where he sat.
The sea crawled beneath him. He pitied
The Greeks being beaten by the Trojans,
And he was furious with Zeus.

So both the gods take sides. The lonely mortals are not only fighting against each other but against the gods who are trying to defeat them. Some of the gods try to level out the impossible odds by giving their favorite mortals special divine gifts. Two such gifts include special god-made armor. Achilles’ mother, who is a goddess, gets the god Hephaestus to create this incredible seven-layered armor for her son which protects him and allows him to battle the Greeks—Achilles is blessed by the gods because of this gift.

In The Aeneid, the Trojan Aeneas is battling the Italians who is favored by Juno, the Queen of Heaven. But the goddess Venus wants to protect her mortal son Aeneas, so she goes to the same god Vulcan (Hephaestus) to create armor and a shield for Aeneas. And this gift of armor helps Aeneas to be victorious.

While reading these accounts, I’m so grateful we have a Heavenly Father who loves us, who wants what is best for us, and does not pit other gods or evils to impede us. He, too, wants to give us divine gifts to protect us and to strengthen us as we do His work. He gives us the Holy Ghost and spiritual gifts. In Doctrine and Covenants 46:8, 26 we’re counseled to “seek earnestly the best gifts, always remembering for what they are given. . . . And all these gifts come from God, for the benefit of the children of God.”

We have been given divine gifts to protect us and to strengthen us. Our Heavenly Father loves us and wants us to succeed and to be happy—we are his sons and daughters.

One other great thing about the armor gift Aeneas received from the gods. The shield’s design has images of Aeneas’s future generations (they become the founders of Rome and the great Roman emperors). Get the meaning of this neat experience:

Aeneas was moved
To wonder and joy by the images of things,
He could not fathom, and he lifted to his shoulder
The destiny of his children’s children.

What we are doing now and the choices we are making not only will bless our lives but will bless our children’s children’s lives. We are lifting them to our shoulders as we battle for what’s right and good.

Hang in There!

Matthew Childs is an advertising lead at Razorfish who has a passion for rock climbing. He gave this presentation as a Ted Talk (ted.com) and titled it “Hang in There! 9 Life Lessons from Rock Climbing.”

Rule #1: Don’t let go
Rule #2: Hesitation is bad
Rule #3: Have a plan
Rule #4: The move is the end
Rule #5: Know how to rest
Rule #6: Fear sucks
Rule #7: Opposites are good
Rule #8: Strength ≠ Success
Rule #9: Know how to let go

Parable of the Beta Fish

A former student who is in graduate school studying contemporary literature in Canada, emailed me with a line that bothered me. He said he always felt sorry for teachers, especially literature teachers, at BYU-Idaho for being so restricted and limited in what they teach.

I’ve never felt restricted here at BYU-Idaho; in fact, I’ve always felt that I have complete freedom to teach whatever I’d want to teach. I have definitely taught things that others wouldn’t teach, but when I do, I prepare students for the reading; they know I care about them and about the literature, and I always allow alternate readings.

I also feel strongly about individual choice, so often in my classes, I have multiple reading choices, especially if someone finds something too disturbing. I feel one of my main responsibilities as a teacher is to share with students meaningful, significant literature, and I also want students to realize that good, well-written literature can also complement the gospel. For that reason, I try to demonstrate that through my reading selections for class. There are so many good choices, that if some don’t feel comfortable with something, then we can turn to something else.

I’m a very firm believer for the right book, for the right person, at the right time.

Just this Sunday, our 12 year-old neighbor gave her first youth speaker talk. She shared an experience she had the day before. They had recently bought a Beta fish, and they had been cautioned not to fill the fishbowl too full. They were fine for a few days, but she started to think that fish needed more swimming space, especially since it had spent so much time in those little containers in the store. So Catrina filled the bowl fuller. She went to watch a movie, and when she walked through the kitchen, she saw that the fish had jumped out of the bowl—the fish was wanting more freedom than what it had. She quickly called her dad who picked up the limp fish, put it in the water, aerated the water, and massaged the fish back to swimming. Catrina, then removed some of the water.

I’m calling this the Parable of the Beta Fish. Sometimes we think we’re being restricted, even if we do have freedom, so we look outside our bowls and life and wish we could be like others or do things differently than the Church counsels. So we may jump out thinking we’re more free; however, we find that it wasn’t good for us. At times we can’t return on our own to our safe bowl, and someone or Someone has to help us return.

No, I don’t feel restricted personally or professionally. I’m able to read and teach whatever I’d like. I am, however, sensitive to my students—I don’t want to impose my reading choices, preferences, or beliefs on them. Rather, my students are developing their own standards and choices, and I want to be the one to facilitate those opportunities.

Trust and Integrity--Teton Dam Flood

President Henry B. Eyring of the First Presidency was awarded the Distinguished Public Service Award from the Washington D.C. Chapter of the BYU Management Society last weekend at a dinner held in his honor and used the opportunity to teach about principles of leadership and leading.

“I've spent most of my life observing leaders and trying to be one,” he told a capacity crowd at the Marriott Hotel.

“I have searched for years for an answer to the question, “Why do people decide to follow a leader?” My guess is that you have pondered that question in the variety of settings in which you have lived and worked. You are likely still searching for a final answer and so am I.

“However, I thought it might be helpful to you if told you where I am in my search for an answer and how I got there. That might help you in your own search. I have tried to understand why great leaders get people to follow them. My explanation is getting down to two words: Trust and Integrity.

“It seems to me that people follow leaders they trust and the main source of their trust is the integrity they sense in the leader. Even more than competence, they will trust character. They trust people they think will find the course to follow by searching for what is the right thing to do without fear or selfish motive. And then that they do it themselves and ask their followers to come with them.”

He said that people trust integrity even more than competence.
He acknowledged that he knew the counter arguments. Sometimes people follow leaders for reasons other than trust, and they may trust leaders for reasons other than their integrity.

President Eyring told a story that he said demonstrated “ how some ordinary people in a climate of trust and deeply rooted integrity became powerful leaders all over an organization” and “shows that many great leaders can appear when you need them if selfless integrity has become the norm.”

On June 7, 1976, President Eyring, who was then the president of Ricks College, was in Idaho Falls at the temple wedding of a faculty member and miles away from his leadership post. As he and his wife, Kathleen, left the temple, a woman at the desk whispered to them that the Teton Dam had broken and a wall of water was headed for Rexburg.

In addition to the many for whom he was responsible at the college, four of his young sons were there as well. Two of them were working on a farm near where the dam had broken, and two more were at home with a baby sitter, he knew would probably not be aware that a flood was coming.

They quickly tried to return to Rexburg to help, but the police stopped them and told them all roads were closed. They were forced to spend the night in a motel, not knowing what had happened to their children or the college.

“As I look back, said President Eyring, I realize that I slept well that night because I knew something about the people for whom I was responsible. I trusted them for their integrity. I knew that they would try to find out what was right to do and that they would try to do it whatever the cost. I was sure that the people would follow them. That was deep in the natures of the people there long before I arrived as the young president. The people were rooted in moral principle from administrators down to the humblest workman.”

The next day, he said, “We arrived at the college to find thousands of survivors wearing all the clothes they had left. More Latter-day Saints were driven from their homes than at any other time in the history of the Church.”

He was told that his sons were safe. The water did hit the college, but it didn't hit the house. The two who had been plowing near the dam and been so close they saw the water rushing. The boys had asked the farmer, Craig Moore, “Shouldn't we head for home?” He had thought for a moment and said, “No. We agreed this morning that we would finish the plowing today. We always keep our word. We always finish what we start.”

The boys had said, “Yes, sir,” and climbed back up on the tractor. Brother Moore had no way of knowing whether the flood would hit his house where his wife was alone. But the boys knew from experience with Brother Moore that he would have asked a prayer about what to do. He didn't need to tell them that he had offered a prayer and felt that all was well at home. “They trusted him,” said President Eyring. “They stayed at the farm because they trusted that he would know what was right to do and do it whatever the cost.”

“At the college, I found that our people across campus had demonstrated that same great moral leadership and that people had followed them. Their president was in Idaho Falls. Yet ordinary people decided what the right thing to do was. They did it. And others followed them.”

The food service had fed over 5,000 dinners to survivors the first night. President Eyring said that he had for months told the man in charge of food service to hold down his food inventories to save costs, but he always felt better when he had reserves for surprises, an ideal certainly ingrained in him from his Mormon background.

Equally ingrained in him was the Mormon value of working long and hard. Even though it was Saturday, and he wasn't required to be there, he was there. He called in the bakers, the cooks, the dishwashers, all of whose own homes were in danger, and they came.

President Eyring smiled, “I got the credit for this in some of the press reports, but I wasn't even there.” What people were responding to he said, was a climate of integrity and trust. If he deserved any credit he said, it was that “I had recognized what my predecessors had created and I tried to protect it.”
The campus housing manager had acted just as the food manager. He decided what the right thing to do was, called in his workers to help, and because of them hundreds of families slept on clean sheets that night.“ Ordinary people in trouble themselves had followed the leadership of ordinary people they trusted to know the right thing to do. And so they all did it. The integrity of the followers rose to the integrity of their leaders,” President Eyring said.

Before President Eyring arrived from Idaho Falls, the manager of the student center had called the local stake president, and on his own had set up an emergency command center on campus.

“When I finally got back on the job in Rexburg, I went to the room in the student center where President Ricks was holding his meeting. I saw the bishops and the high councilors sitting there in whatever clothes they had been wearing when the flood hit. Most of them showed signs that they had been out in the mud and among the broken trees to find and help their people.

“Now, some of our critics might say they only followed the stake president out of submission to authority. But you wouldn't believe that if you knew those bishops. They were farmers and mechanics as independent as any you will ever meet. And that was equally true of their followers who answered the call…

“They didn't do that because they respected the office of the bishop.
That surely was a part of it, but respect alone wouldn't explain it. They trusted the bishop because of his character. They knew he would have prayed to know what ought to be done, that he would to it, and that he would tell them as honestly as he could what he felt God wanted them to do.”

After a few days an experienced director from the National Disaster Relief Agency arrived with a professional team. President Eyring met him as he arrived to speak with Stake President Ricks and several bishops. As the director moved down a check list of what should be done, President Ricks quietly whispered, “We've already done that.” After this had continued for four or five minutes, he said he would just like to observe, and by the next day he was asking “What would you like us to do?”

“Years later, as a member of the Presiding Bishopric of the Church, I was in the office of a member of the First Presidency. His phone rang,” said President Eyring.
“It was the President of the United States calling from Air Force One. He had called to thank the Church for the excellent response of our people to a disaster in Florida. I was told afterward that he attributed it to our organizational skills as a Church.

It was far more than knowing how to organize. It was people with integrity deep inside them that produced the miracle. The gospel had gone down into hearts to produce the climate in which trust and great leadership could emerge.”
President Eyring continued, “This idea that great leadership springs out of a climate of people rooted in moral integrity is not original with me. Nor does it only work among Mormons or in disaster relief. It is true in every endeavor.

“Here is one of my favorite passages in the United States Army Leadership Field Manual. It argues that we need great leaders who can be trusted for their integrity. Here is a passage: ‘People of integrity do the right thing not because it's convenient or because they have no choice.

“'They choose the right thing because their character permits no less. Conducting yourself with integrity has three parts: Separating what's right from what's wrong. Always acting according to what you know to be right even at personal cost. Saying openly that you're acting on your understanding of right versus wrong.'”

President Eyring said, “Integrity will not only gain trust from your subordinates in the crisis of floods or in combat. It will gain trust from superiors and subordinates in any setting. I like these lines from the book, The Moral Sense, by James Q. Wilson which is a compliment to us with a bit of an edge: ‘We value people who are so inner directed that we can rely on them acting in a certain way.'

“And then a few lines later, ‘People will often defer to our wishes if they think we will make a scene when we are asked to act contrary to a deeply held conviction, and they will often have confidence in our promises if the promises are consistent with our principles even when they know we will encounter many temptations to break the promise.”

President Eyring concluded, Do you remember the old line from our hymn, ‘Choose the Right'? There is a line in it: “There's a right and a wrong to every question.”
I've come to believe that is true, even in our leadership work when the moral course may be hard to find. God gives us help in that from the time of our birth. By impressions to the mind and to the heart we can know what is right and what is wrong. The Spirit of Christ can do that, even when we do not know what is best, we can know what is right...

“We can influence the emergence of great leaders rooted in moral principle. And they will lift families who in turn can lift our society. You can help create those trusted leaders. We desperately need them.”

Proctor, Maurine Jensen. "President Eyring on Leadership: Trust and Integrity." 22 April 2009. Meridian. 22 April 2009 .

Hector, Prince of Troy

I still can’t get The Iliad out of my mind. Hector, Prince of Troy, is my new hero. Hector’s creed is “Honor the gods; love my woman; and defend my country.” He’s a strong, solid individual. Hector stands by his brother Paris who kidnaps Helen which starts the Trojan War. Hector as the older brother and heir to the throne embodies unswerving fidelity and brotherly love. Hector isn’t blind to Paris’s stupidity, but Hector accepts responsibility and leads the army in battle—he’s probably in more battles than anyone else in The Iliad. He is a faithful husband to his wife Andromache, a loving father to his infant son Astyanax, a dutiful son to his father King Priam, a devoted servant to the gods, and a great military leader for the Trojans—he gives these inspiring calls to battle. And Hector is the one who battles hand-to-hand with Achilles.

This week I’ve started reading George Q. Cannon’s 600 page Life of Joseph Smith the Prophet. Cannon is incredible—he was a member of the First Presidency under Presidents Brigham Young, John Taylor, Wilford Woodruff, and Lorenzo Snow—the witnesses he must have had. His history is based on those who knew the Prophet intimately. Cannon was a boy when his family first arrived at Nauvoo and he saw Joseph in a crowd. Without being told, he recognized Joseph. He said he would have known him among ten thousand.

Here’s a great paragraph Cannon writes about Joseph’s leadership: “But whether engaging in manly sport during hours or relaxation, or proclaiming words of wisdom in pulpit or grove, he was ever the leader. His magnetism was masterful, and his heroic qualities won universal admiration. Where he moved, all classes were forced to recognize in him from a distance, knew him the moment their eyes beheld his person. Men have crossed ocean and continent to meet him and have selected him instantly from among a multitude.”

And here is a new favorite scripture: “Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good” (Romans 12:21).

Achilles' Anger

I've just started Homer’s The Iliad. In just three days, I’ve read half of it because I can’t put it down. I am noticing a number of leadership qualities that I want to explore more. Although anger is not one of those qualities, it still continues to be an overriding feeling in the poem. Here’s the very first stanza of the poem:

Rage:
Sing, Goddess, Achilles’ rage,
Black and murderous, that cost the Greeks
Incalculable pain, pitched countless souls
Of heroes into Hades’ dark,
And left their bodies to rot as feasts
For dogs and birds, as Zeus’ will was done.
Begin with the clash between Agamemnon—
The Greek warlord—and godlike Achilles.

Achilles is mad because he doesn’t think Agamemnon is honoring him enough after nine years of battle against the Trojans. So Achilles decides not to fight any longer, and I’m 250 pages into the poem, the Greeks are losing terribly and are being pushed back to their ships—they’re ready to set sail for home having lost the war, and Achilles still refuses to fight because of his anger.

Isn’t anger such a terrible, destructive emotion? I’ve seen anger destroy families, destroy careers, destroy friendships, and destroy testimonies. And anger doesn’t have to be loud, it can also be silent. I don’t know what your experience has been with anger, but because of life, I would suspect at some time anger has touched your life somehow.

That’s why this week’s reading of the Prophet Joseph’s reactions to Martin Harris’s loss of the 116 pages of the manuscript or his reactions to being imprisoned in Liberty Jail, have had such a strong impression on me. Instead of placing anger against others, Joseph places self-responsibility and anguish towards himself. His response to the lost manuscripts is, “I have sinned.” The Prophet rarely seems to be angry—hurt yes, but not angry. What a godlike quality to not lash out at others when things are not going well, and it seems rarely things go just the way we’d like.

This weekend I bought and watched Ben Hur—I’ve never seen it before. Anger is the emotion that destroys the lives in this movie between the Roman Marsalla and Judah Ben-Hur. It’s not until the end of the nearly four-hour movie, that Ben-Hur finds peace and forgiveness through the Crucified Christ when He says, not in anger but in love, “Father , forgive them.”

Anger destroys, but Christ's love and patience gives life and hope.

Humpty-Dumpty

This last weekend was LDS General Conference. I do think I appreciate conference more and more. It is a blessing that we can felt and hear some answers to our prayers.

I’m so grateful that conference can bless us, strengthen us, and encourage us. Some themes that stood out for me include taking care of each other, finding peace in the temple, being steadfast, and depending on the Savior and His Atonement.

Earlier this week I read the Lanford Wilson play Talley’s Folly. It’s a two-character play, and one of them claims that many of us suffer from the Humpty-Dumpty complex. We all have such fragile shells that we do everything we can not to upset our delicate little worlds, and we’re oh so afraid of bumping into someone or an experience and crack. We protect ourselves so well, that nothing can penetrate our shells, and we worry that if we do crack, we can’t be repaired.

Conference, on the other hand, repeatedly expresses that, yes, we are fragile and that this world is dangerous and unfriendly, but we are not alone. We have each other, and we have a very definite responsibility to help each other. Wasn’t President Eyring’s reference to Black Hawk Down great?—leave no man behind. And Bishop Edgely gave us the “call,” like Brother Brigham. to leave now to rescue those stranded on the plains of unemployment, despair, and hardship. And President Uchtdorf’s admonition to focus on what is eternal and significant and not be distracted in our duties. He sure sounded like Captain Moroni raising the banner of “I am doing a great work and cannot come down!”

We have a duty and a sacred responsibility to search out, rescue, and serve others. Even though Elder Perry was talking about member-missionary work, there are those stranded sheep who need us. And Elder Bednar’s and Elder Scott’s powerful talks about temples and the peace, power, and the “fire of the covenant” burning within us will protect, guide, and direct us to the Lord’s work on both sides of the veil.

But most important of all, the sacred testimonies of the Savior, especially Elder Holland’s witness that because of the Savior’s experience of betrayal and abandonment on our behalf means that Divine Passion is never absent in our lives—we will never be left alone. So unlike broken Humpty-Dumpty where all the king’s horses and all the king’s men could not repair Humpty-Dumpty, we are eternally blessed because all the King’s men (His servants, our families, our quorums, and each other) and the King Jesus can put us back together, can make us whole, complete, and well.

So many of my students are the King’s choicest men and women—He loves us and needs us. And He is with us.

We need to remember President Monson’s encouragement to study diligently, pray fervently, and live righteously with his promise that the Lord shapes our backs to bear the burdens placed upon them.

Steadfast Penelope

I’ve just finished reading The Odyssey for the first time. I don’t know why I haven’t read it before other than I’ve been intimidated. However, The Odyssey is the right book at the right time for me. I had heard many of Odysseus’s exploits before, and now I know how they connect with each other and how they help develop Odysseus’s character.

What I didn’t realize until now was the power of Odysseus’s wife Penelope who mourns and waits twenty years for Odysseus’s return to her. During that time she raises their son Telemachus from infancy to young manhood, she maintains Odysseus’s home and estate, she cares for his aging parents and buries her mother-in-law. And most importantly, she preserves Odyssey’s memory and honor as she fights off numerous deceitful suitors who want to get their hands on Odysseus’s inheritance and wealth.

Penelope uses her wits and intelligence to put them off for many years by insisting that she finish weaving a tapestry which she weaves all day but at night unravels. Her servants betray her, yet she continues to hold them off. She sets a powerful example of honor for their son Telemachus who has learned to love his absent father because of his mother’s love for Odysseus.

According to the dead Agamemnon, Odyssey’s successful homecoming is due in large part because of the faithfulness and goodness of Penelope. At the end, Agamemnon sings Penelope’s praises:

“Well done, Odysseus, Laertes’ wily son!
You won a wife of great character
In Icarius’ daughter. What a mind she has,
A woman beyond reproach! How well Penelope
Kept in her heart her husband, Odysseus.
And so her virtue’s fame will never perish,
And the gods will make among men on earth
A song of praise for steadfast Penelope.” (24.199-206)

A powerful virtue we often overlook is that of being steady or steadfast. Although Penelope may not seem the warrior hero glorified in Odysseus’s stories, she is the hero who stays home and protects virtue and honor—and she never waivers.

Penelope demonstrates for us the virtue of consistency, of being steadfast, not matter the pressure to sway. Often in The Odyssey, Odysseus is called glorious and god-favored, Penelope is also glorious and god-favored because she is steady.

Known Only Unto God

My reading this week has been a little different. When I was in San Francisco, I picked up Elizabeth D. Samet’s Soldier’s Heart: Reading Literature Through Peace and War at West Point. She writes about her experiences as a civilian literature professor there, especially about some of the cadets' involvement with literature, mostly classical. Parts of it were hard to understand because she assumes the reader is familiar with the works she’s discussing. It was good reading about the cadets, though, and how the literature touched their lives, not only in the classroom but later in their other assignments.

I do like a number of quotations she uses to discuss reading, obedience, religion, bravery, and sacrifice. I also got a few good glimpses into military history. And I now have a long list of books I want to start reading.

At nearly the last paragraph, she quotes Cormac McCarthy’s Blood Meridian. I can’t remember if I’ve talked with you about this book. I’ve read it, and it is powerful, but it is, without a doubt, the most violent, bloody, gruesome book I’ve ever read—the title is literal. McCarthy claims to chronicle the violence of the West. From page one, there is violence, and on that page, McCarthy explains the reason why the kid is the way he is: “He can neither read nor write and in him broods a taste for mindless violence.” Samet suggests, that through literature, the cadets are able to express and strengthen their humanity.

Literature helps balance our lives.

Samet refers often to three books which she says continue to be favorites of her cadets: Homer’s Illiad and Odyssey and Virgil’s Aeneid. I’m confessing here that I’ve never read them—they’ve been too intimidating.

So this weekend I started with the Odyssey. I found a 2007 American translation by Stanley Lombardo, and I’ve been pulled into the book—it is great and a very good read. I do like the character Odysseus as he struggles against all odds after twenty years to return from the Trojan War to his wife Penelope and son Telemachus. All these stories I’ve heard over the years are now starting to make sense.

A friend today was telling about a recent trip to Tennessee and they were driving by a small Baptist cemetery and decided to walk around. It was an older cemetery with these elaborate headstones and monuments, except for a few rows of simple markers with small Confederate flags in the ground. The only thing the markers said was “Known Only Unto God.” That touched me that these were probably unknown Civil War graves and they were soldiers who had families, loved ones, and lives.

But even if they are unknown today, God does know, and love, and care for them. And He also knows, loves, and cares for us, and we are also loved by so many others who know and care for us—on both sides of the veil.

“The Lord gave us power in proportion to the work to be done, and strength according to the race set before us, and grace and help as our needs require.” Joseph Smith

Team of Rivals

For some time now, I have had Doris Kearns Goodwin’s book Team of Rivals on my reading list. The historian has focused on the role Abraham Lincoln’s adversaries have planned on his Presidency and on the Civil War. Harvard Business Review has conducted an interview with Goodwin about lessons leaders can learn from Lincoln’s working with his adversaries.

Goodwin makes three strong points about Lincoln’s leadership:

•Abraham Lincoln’s genius was to manage the ambitions and egos of his rivals to form a team that could confront the challenges of civil war.
•His ability to create a team of rivals was rooted in an extraordinary level of emotional intelligence. He learned from his mistakes, he shared responsibility for the mistakes of others, and he did not hold grudges.
•Lincoln’s experiences, like that of other presidents in times of emergency, give hope that the United States and other democracies will weather the current crisis.

My students are now finishing semester-long term projects, and it is becoming very clear that some groups are more effective than others. I’ve been able to catch glimpses in which groups take their multiple assignments and contributions and put aside differences and egos to create well-crafted, equally articulated documents. Unfortunately, other groups continue to resist working as a unit, each protective of own ideas and approaches rather than focus on a unified tasks. These weaker groups struggle with poor attendance, assignments turned in “just in time,” yet not enough time to solicit feedback and revision to create a prepared, thoughtful whole—it’s a culmination of pieces that don’t fit.

I’m impressed with Goodwin’s observation: “What Lincoln had, it seems to me, was an extraordinary amount of emotional intelligence. He was able to acknowledge his errors and learn from his mistakes to a remarkable degree. He was careful to put past hurts behind him and never allowed wounds to fester.”

Working collaboratively, especially in forced situations, can appear to be a team of rivals, yet through a willingness to meet a cooperative goal, groups can achieve what can’t be accomplished alone. Goodwin reminds us that the “idea is not to put your rivals in power—the point is to choose the best and most able people . . . for the good” of the project. Then the team of rivals can become a productive team.

Regretfully Yours

During the closing scene of Quantum of Solace, M asks James Bond if he has any regrets. Bond responds with “No.” He then asks her if she has regrets, and she replies, “Of course not. That would be unprofessional.”

In the new April 2009 issue of Harvard Business Review, Dr. Michael Craig Miller, MD titles his article, “Go Ahead, Have Regrets.” He’s not talking about the rending emotion that paralyzes us or bombards us with failure. Rather, Miller claims that regret can be valuable because it can help clarify things in life and set us in a different direction. Because regret is a powerful emotion, that same power can motivate us to change and to do.

Miller quotes the Danish philosopher Soren Kirekegaard: “Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards.” So it’s ok to look back and determine what hasn’t worked or where a direction is wrong—these are “frank reappraisals.” Now it’s time to look forward and determine how to turn those poor choices into meaningful experiences.

Regret-driven analysis does not mean rationalization or excuse making. In terms of the gospel, regret can allow us to act rather than to be acted upon. Regret can give us perspective, especially if the regret results from spiritual promptings, and those some promptings can guide us as we redirect our lives.

Rather than ignore or even not acknowledge regret, James and M, it is professional and healthy to understand life backwards but live it forwards.

Wilderness Survival

This week I’ve been thinking about wildernesses. Part of this is probably because I’ve been thinking a Marine student soon to be deployed to Afghanistan—I’ve been trying to imagine what it’s going to be like for him. From whatever I’ve seen, it sure looks barren—a wilderness. However, for members of the church, a wilderness doesn’t mean that it is God-forsaken. Think of the wilderness experiences in the scriptures and church history. Of course, there’s Moses and the children of Israel, Lehi and his family, Zion’s Camp, the Mormon Battalion, Joseph’s Liberty Jail, and the Saints exodus from Nauvoo. In all cases, the wilderness experience becomes a spiritual training/proving ground that results in glorious blessings—a promised land. Think specifically of Lehi’s family and the Prophet Joseph. Look at all of Nephi’s learned lessons: the Brass plates, the Tree of Life, the broken bow, the sweetened uncooked meat, the ship building, the sea crossing, the great division and separation of the family—all of these take place in the wilderness. Yes, these are incredibly difficult experiences, but also notice that Lehi’s family is led by angels, the Holy Ghost in the form of a man, visions of the Savior, the Liahona giving directions and counsel. I wonder if those wonderful blessings would have happened had they not been in the wilderness.

Think of the Prophet Joseph in Liberty Jail. This weekend, I reread D&C 121-123 which are his letters from Liberty Jail. Those sections, particularly, D&C 121 include some of the most sublime language, pleading, and assurance in all of scripture. Elder Neal A. Maxwell has called this Joseph’s Liberty Temple experience—a temple in a wilderness.

President James E. Faust has said, “In the agonies of life, we seem to listen better to the faint, godly whisperings of the Divine Shepherd.” And President Spencer W. Kimball has said, “We can . . . tell that we are making progress by the attention we get from the adversary. . . . This has been the lot of the Lord’s people from the beginning, and it will be no different in our time.”

How often in the scriptures do we get the Lord’s promise that He will “lead thee by the hand, and give the answers to thy prayers” (D&C 112:10), “thy God shall stand by thee forever and ever” (D&C 122:4), “know thou, my son, that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good” (D&C 122:7), “fear not what man can do, for God shall be with you forever and ever” (D&C 122:9), and one of my favorites, “Therefore, dearly beloved brethren, let us cheerfully do all things that lie in our power; and then may we stand still, with the utmost assurance, to see the salvation of God, and for his arm to be revealed” (D&C 123:17).

I know we have had wilderness experiences before in our lives, and we’re still in the wilderness, but know “[our[ prayers are acceptable before [Him]” (D&C 124:2), and He is with us, guiding us, comforting us, blessing us. We are His, and we are being led and more importantly being prepared for glorious blessings that will only come because of our faith in Him as we journey through this seemingly endless wilderness.

Sourdough Starters

Boudin’s sourdough French bread is a San Francisco tradition. Last week, I had Boudin sourdough three different times. On Thursday for lunch I had a turkey cranberry sandwich with turkey, cranberry sauce, red onion, lettuce, and mayo on sliced sourdough bread. On Friday for lunch I had a turkey avocado sandwich with turkey, havarti cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, mayo, avocado on multigrain sourdough bread. And Friday night at Pier 39 on Fisherman’s Wharf, I had thick, creamy clam chowder in a sourdough bread bowl.

While I was growing up, sourdough pancakes were a Saturday morning tradition. We’d pull the starter crock from the back of the refrigerator and mix up the pancakes—nothing tastes like sourdough pancakes.

That sourdough starter intrigues me. Sourdough does not use commercial yeast; instead the “wild” yeast germinates and leavens the bread. After five days, the starter is yeasty and ready to use. But we use only part of the starter and refresh it with more water, flour, water, and potato flakes so it can “sour,” ready for the next use. The same starter is used and refreshed continuously, often for years and years. My parents used the same starter all the time I was growing up, and Boudin’s maintain that they have been using their mother starter since 1849.

I like that starter of the past becomes both the starter for the present and the starter for the future—all in one crock. I can’t help but think that the relationships we develop with others over the years often function as the “starter” for us.

Each of us individually represents all the people who have influenced us throughout our lives. These individuals have “started” us to become who we are now. And their influence continues to impact us as we “start” another relationship or connection which in turn grows and develops and “starts” us and others in new directions.

At the beginning of the semester when my students and I first meet, we’re all “starters,” and during the semester we eventually leaven and strengthen each other—we become a part of each others’ lives. And as we leave class, we will continue as “starters” to leaven and bless additional individuals’ lives.

I’m grateful for my students and the blessings and meaningful contributions they make in my life. They're good “starters.”

Thieves and Locks

I was in San Francisco at the Conference on College Composition and Communication—the biggest conference on college writing. It's a good conference because it not only discusses theory, but it gives some good, hands-on direction as well.

The session that touched me was called “Writing of War, Writing of Peace.” They had six vets talk about their writing—they belong to a single writing group that has helped each of them publish their work. They talked on writing about incredibly difficult situations and experiences and how to work through issues. Then they read some of their work—very, very good. An additional individual presented who is a journalist who chronicled the experience of a young Sudanese boy soldier—his book has won major awards.

One of my favorite vets is Marine Sean McLain Brown from the Persian Gulf War who read two poems “Easter” and “White Flag.” In his talk he said that “everyone who has experienced trauma is a vet.” Below in the quotation box is Brown's "Easter.

While traveling and at nights, I read a fabulous book by the Australian Mark Zusak called The Book Thief. It’s one of those books that has had a profound impact on me. It’s the story of a single neighborhood in Germany during the rise of the Hitler’s Third Reich and World War II. It’s mostly the story of a nine-year-old girl throughout this time until she turns fifteen. She occasionally steals books.

The Book Thief is about how Hitler destroys people with words, yet this young girl steals the words back as she reads books with a young Jewish man hiding in their basement, with her German neighbors to calm them in bomb shelters during air raids, and with an angry mother who has lost her sons in the war. She writes her own beautiful story though the horrors of the world that surrounds her. The book’s narrator is Death, who isn’t unkind or frightening. Death is just exhausted, and he continues to watch Liesel as he crosses her life. It’s a very, very good read.

How do we make it through these troubling times we face in our lives? Prayer is a significant answer. Prayer and dependence on our Father gives us power. Elder Neal A. Maxwell has said prayer is like a combination lock—to have effective prayer, we need to get three tumblers to line up just right. The tumblers include faith, personal righteousness, and God’s will.

So although there are thieves out there who are trying to take what who hold precious, remember that there is the combination lock of prayer that can protect and restore us.

"Easter" by Sean McLain Brown
On Easter, the girls dressed up in white hats with pink chiffon ribbon, pretty dresses with daisies and sunflower,
and us boys with new patent leather shoes and freshly starched ironed shirts and off to church we would go
and after come home to look for our Easter baskets with the sun still shining and father and mother there on
the porch looking on and laughing. What good times. I hope God will bring me home so I can hunt for eggs
in the field behind our barn, listen to the low short whistles of screech owls as they dive after mice while fireflies
weave-and-bob like Lilliputian lanterns. But here there’s only the high pitched whine of sand flies in my ears, the
twenty-miles of switchbacks to hump before sundown and we have to make the northern hill and no one knows
why but when; it’s Easter and we don’t have any eggs but plenty of grenades and no white hats but Kevlar helmets,
and no starched shirts but flak jackets. But at night on the perimeter, when the rain clears and light from the moon
shines across a field, I listen for low short whistles and the skitter of field mice across my boots, and the
phosphorescent glow of tracer fire streak red and orange through frozen air, like spring bonfires with winter wood,
or Easter lying prone in the mud, marking time, with nothing to do but wait for the sun.

Handshakes

The Prophet Joseph Smith was visiting his parents in Far West, and a group of angry men arrived to say they were going to kill him. His mother Lucy Mack Smith relates,”[Joseph] looked upon them with a very pleasant smile and, stepping up to them, gave each of them his hand in a manner which convinced them that he was neither a guilty criminal nor yet a cowering hypocrite.” Joseph then began a conversation with them explaining how the Saints had been mistreated. The men in the end, offered to protect the Prophet. One of the men said, “Did you not feel strangely when Smith took you by the hand? I never felt so in my life.” And the other man replied, “I felt as though I could not move. I would not harm one hair of that man’s head for the whole world.”

Can you imagine the power of that handshake—his goodness simply emanated from and through him.

Two contrasting characters have stood out for me this week that have helped me make another connection with the Prophet's handshake. I have read for the first time Christopher Marlowe’s Doctor Faustus. (Marlowe was a contemporary of Shakespeare.) Doctor Faustus is from a humble beginning, but because of his desire for learning, he spent his life studying until he had all knowledge. But he wanted much more to the point that he made a pact that Lucifer could have his soul if Lucifer would grant him a servant for twenty-four years to do Faustus’ bidding and to teach him more. Lucifer allowed one of his most powerful devils Mephistopheles to serve Faustus. From the very beginning until the very end, there is a good angel and others who warn Faustus and provide opportunities for him to repent, yet Faustus is so determined that he ignores them. Of course, at the end, Faustus pleads for Lucifer to free him, but it is too late.

Think of our desires, which may be noble and good, but are they taking us away from others and from God? Are we receiving warnings that we don’t hear or that we ignore? Will there come a time when it is too late to change or we’ll not want to change?

The second character is Steinar Steinsson from Halldór Laxness’s Paradise Reclaimed. I just learned of Laxness a couple weeks ago—he is the Icelandic novelist who won the Nobel laureate for literature in 1955. Laxness is a strong Catholic who lived in the strong Lutheran country of Iceland. Paradise Reclaimed, set in the 1880s, is about Steinar of Hlidar, Iceland, who is a gentle, generous man. Steinar gives their valuable horse and an exquisite mahogany chest he has made to the visiting king of Denmark. He sees only the best in people, which is why he listens to and protects a Mormon missionary. Steinar wants to do what is right and what is good, even if it costs his family dearly. He leaves his paradise homeland and arrives in Spanish Fork, Utah, and becomes a brick maker and layer until he eventually returns to Iceland as a Mormon missionary.

No matter the hardship, Steinar does what is good, and he only wants to assist and bless people and learn the truth. He trusts, and he works.

Steinar and Faustus are such contrasts, but I find that I can identify with both. Yes, there are times I also want Faustus’ noticeable and dramatic power and influence (he is able to control popes and kings) but also Steinar’s gentle, quiet strength.

Which gets us back to the Prophet Joseph. He does have power, influence, gentleness, and quiet strength. But all of that comes through the power of the Holy Ghost, the grace of Christ, and his own goodness. Joseph has told us that when we are instrumental in God’s great work, “He will endow [us] with power, wisdom, might, and intelligence, and every qualification necessary; while [our] minds will expand wider and wider, until [we] can circumscribe the earth and the heavens, reach forth into eternity and contemplate the mighty acts of Jehovah in all their variety and glory.” --That is power!

Let's reach out to shake someone’s hand, someone who needs our strength.

Tender Mercies--Horton Foote

Horton Foote died March 4, 2009, at the age of 92. Rarely does an author’s, poet’s, or playwright’s death affect me, but when I found out about Foote’s death, I sensed both a loss and a determination.

Foote seems so gentle and hopeful because of his characters, and I will miss that. So often with contemporary dramatists, it seems the focus is on the ugly, the downtrodden, and the depraved. It’s hard reading about such hopeless individuals in such hopeless situations.

Foote’s characters, however, have an element of goodness despite their difficult situations—they may just make it to a better stage of life. The two that convey that feeling are Mac Sledge from Tender Mercies and Mrs. Watts from The Trip to Bountiful. Mac is a deep down-and-out drunk cowboy songwriter who has lost his career and his family, but because of determination and the love of a woman and young boy, he changes and blesses lives. Mrs. Watts is an oppressed, emotionally abused elderly woman who just wants to return to her childhood home that no longer exists, but who eventually finds peace in the present.

My students were able to connect with both of Foote’s characters and screenplays last semester in which they explored own relationships not as removed as they first appear. In fact, Foote’s strength is in creating the common character who isn’t much different than we are.

So I feel a loss because of Foote’s death. But I now have a determination to read more of his works. I want now to focus first on his Orphan Home Cycle plays—I have much to read and many new characters to become a part of my life.

I look forward to discovering and feeling the hope that Horton Foote expresses in the following quotation:

"I have enormous respect for the human being, because they're asked to take on a lot. And I don't think there's any easy solution. But I think the journey is what you have to finally be satisfied with, but not be afraid of the lessons one has to learn ... it ends up as grace. And you grow, you find a way to continue." --Horton Foote

Ephraim Hanks and Adobe Bricks

Ephraim Hanks had just arrived in the Salt Lake Valley two weeks earlier. He was beginning to build their first home. He had already got heavy pine timbers for the frame, and he also had the eight inch adobe brick. He hired a bricklayer, and the two of them began laying the brick walls in the hot Utah summer.

They worked well together and had made a lot of progress over a few days until the walls were waist high. They had hardly noticed the dusty carriage pull up. Inside was President Brigham Young, who didn’t get out, but just looked at the brick work, and looked at Ephraim. Ephraim remembered looking into Brother Brigham’s blue eyes and hearing him say, “Make the walls sixteen inches and not eight.” Without another word, the carriage drove off, leaving Ephraim standing there. To build the walls sixteen inches, they would have to tear down everything they had done, get more timbers, and twice as many bricks.

The brick mason, said that Brother Brigham was just talking off the top of his hat, and that most of the homes used only six inch bricks—there was no need to redo their work. Ephraim sat down and thought. He stood up and began tearing down the wall. He told the mason, that he had come across the plains from Nauvoo and from California with the Mormon Battalion because he knew Brigham was a prophet of God. It didn’t matter to him if Brigham were talking off the top of his hat or if he were receiving revelation, he would do what the prophet asked him to do.

Ephraim built his walls sixteen inches thick. A week after the home was finished, the rains came, especially heavy in the mountains, and waters flooded the valley, washing away nearly every home in its path, except for Ephraim’s sixteen inch thick walled home.

After reading that experience, I began to examine myself and asking how closely do I listen and follow President Monson. I have become very aware that what the Prophet says is the same as the Lord speaking, so how closely am I listening to the Lord?

I then thought back to last October conference, and I couldn’t remember anything President Monson had said, except for the announcement of the five new temples. This weekend, I reread President Monson’s four talks at the last conference, underlining passages that I felt were meant just for me. I then typed them and printed them to slip into my scriptures so I can more easily pay attention to these messages. I’ll pass these along to you, but I’m certain that if you did this also, you would find different messages.

My testimony of President Monson has been strengthened incredibly this week just because of this experience. I’m so grateful for a living prophet and for his messages to us. Here’s just one message from the last conference that I really like: “Remember that the Lord will shape the back to bear the burden placed upon it”—isn’t that great?

Bayonet Leadership

At the end of Beyond Band of Brothers, Dick Winters lists ten leadership points he calls “Leadership at the Point of the Bayonet: Ten Principles for Success.”

Strive to be a leader of character, competence, and courage.

Lead from the front. Say, “Follow me!” and then lead the way.

Stay in top physical shape—physical stamina is the root of mental toughness.

Develop your team. If you know your people, and are fair in setting realistic goals you will develop teamwork.

Delegate responsibility to your subordinates and let them do their jobs. You can’t do a good job if you don’t have a chance to use your imagination or your creativity.

Anticipate problems and prepare to overcome obstacles. Don’t wait until you get to the top of the ridge and then make up your mind.

Remain humble. Don’t worry about who receives the credit. Never let power or authority go to your head.

Take a moment of self-reflection. Look at yourself in the mirror every night and ask yourself if you did your best.

True satisfaction comes from getting the job done. The key to a successful leader is to earn respect—not because of rank or position, but because you are a leader of character.

Hang Tough!—Never, ever, give up.

Major Dick Winters
Easy Company
506th Parachute Infantry Regiment
101st Airborne Division
Band of Brothers

Winters, Major Dick and Colonel Cole C. Kingseed. Beyond Band of Brothers: The War Memoirs of Major Dick Winters. Large Print. Detroit: Gale Cengage Learning, 2006.