The Spinoza Problem: A Novel - Irvin D. Yalom

I can see why the author felt the need to add the rather defensive subtitle "a novel": this book exists mainly to present history / philosophy in a readable way, so it has an unusual structure and there are a lot of rather artificial conversations where people explain their theories and beliefs to each other, but if you don't mind that then it's a fascinating read.  It contains two intertwined stories, one following the 17th century philosopher Spinoza as he is excommunicated by the Jewish community in Amsterdam for his radical ideas, and another imagining the inner life of Alfred Rosenberg, an anti-semitic writer who influenced Hitler in the early days of the Nazi party, as he struggles with his ambivalent feelings towards Spinoza, hating his Jewish origins but admiring his powerful writings against religious authority.  The strand about Rosenberg is largely fictional, based on one genuine incident where the Nazis seized a collection of books from a Spinoza museum, noting in their report that they were "of great importance for the exploration of the Spinoza problem". Although this description sounds rather dry, I was utterly captivated by this book, even at one point having a nightmare after reading a passage describing Hitler's early "impassioned" speeches and the wild applause he got from the audience. (A nightmare that then became even more frightening when I woke up to hear news of Donald Trump's latest victory...)  My only real complaint is that the last paragraph in the book's Epilogue states that the bodies of the war criminals executed after the Nuremberg trials were incinerated at Dachau - this ghoulish idea made such an impression on me that I immediately looked it up, trying to work out why it happened, but the most reliable-looking accounts that I found stated that they were in fact burned in a Munich crematorium.

De Klenge Prënz - Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

This was a significant read for me as it was the first book I'd attempted to read in Luxembourgish (other than picture books I'd read for the children).  I'd selected it as it was short and familiar (I'd enjoyed it in English when much younger) but I did find it a bit of a struggle in places - certainly significantly harder than reading in German - and there were several passages that I had to go over two or three times to get the meaning of them.  I did make it to the end though, learning a few new words along the way, and I even understood enough to feel quite emotional at the end of the afterword, when the narrator speaks of his sadness and asks the readers to tell him if the prince returns.  As I've been thinking a lot recently about drawing, and how people learn to draw and gain or lose confidence in their abilities, I was also quite struck by the repeated mentions of how the narrator stopped drawing as a six year old due to the poor response of adults to whom he showed his first efforts, and by his decision to take it up again as an adult so that he could create pictures to help him remember his friend.

Als Hitler das rosa Kaninchen stahl - Judith Kerr

I'd long been intrigued by the English title of this book (When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit) in a list of other works by the author in our well-loved copy of The Tiger Who Came to Tea, so when I came across this translation in the library it seemed like a good opportunity to find out more while practising my German.  I found the story rather eye-opening, as it presents an account of the threats and hardships of being one of the 'lucky' ones who escaped before the Nazis came to power.  The engaging and upbeat narrator was very likeable, particularly her rather endearing conclusion that she will probably never become famous because her experiences as a refugee, which she describes as interesting and sometimes funny despite their challenges, do not qualify as a difficult childhood because she has been able to stay together with her family.  I also really enjoyed the experience of reading it in German - although it was originally written in English, the experiences she describes begin in Germany and often focus on the fact of German being the family's native language, so it felt very natural to be reading it this way.  I also had a strange moment of realisation after enjoying a passage in which Anna suddenly discovers that she has learned to speak French fluently without needing to mentally translate back and forth into German.  I paused for a moment to wistfully imagine how wonderful it would be to be fluent in another language, only to catch myself and notice that I was quite happily reading in one...  I'd also like to record here a conversation between Anna and her father that resonated with me (particularly on behalf of my children, who have moved between countries early in their lives): "Glaubst du, dass wir jemals irgendwo richtig hingehören werden?" "Ich glaube nicht", sagte Papa, "nicht so, wie die Menschen irgendwo hingehören, die ihr Leben lang an einem Ort gewohnt haben. Aber wir werden zu vielen Orten ein wenig gehören, und ich glaube, das kann ebenso gut sein."

The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ - Philip Pullman

In this retelling of the gospel story (which is also a fascinating exploration of how and why such stories come to be written) "Jesus" and "Christ" are two separate characters: twins, who embody different kinds of religious faith and have very different ideas about how to do God's work.  I remember being very impressed a few years ago by David Boulton's "Who on Earth Was Jesus?", which emphasises the distinction between the "Jesus of history" and the "Christ of faith", and I liked the way that this idea was humanised and explored in this story, as Jesus simply speaks from his beliefs, while Christ, the chronicler of these events, is persuaded by a mysterious stranger that the Kingdom of God can be brought about by "writing about things as they should have been" and "letting truth into history".  This leads to reversals such as Jesus's encounter with Mary and Martha, where he actually tells Mary to "go and help your sister", but Christ feels that this was "another of those sayings of Jesus that would be better as truth than as history".  The way that events are embellished into myths is also nicely illustrated by Christ's encounter with Thomas after Jesus's death, where the people present are persuaded of the resurrection without seeing wounds from the crucifixion, but soon the "vivid and unforgettable" story of Thomas touching the wounds becomes widespread.  I was also struck by Christ's final thoughts on the allure of storytelling, as he reflects on the morality of the newly formed church and his part in its creation, and concludes that he still wants to be involved in creating a record of Jesus's life so that he can "knot the details together neatly to make patterns and show correspondences, and if they weren't there in life, I want to put them there in the story for no other reason than to make a better story".

Parenting Without Power Struggles - Susan Stiffelman

Much of this gentle and positive book about "cool, calm and connected" parenting covers ideas I've heard many times before, but I found the way it was presented clear and memorable, especially the image of the parent as "Captain of the ship", exuding quiet authority and giving children the reassuring sense that we are "steady and calm - regardless of their moods or behavior".  I also found the discussion of being "in charge" interesting, especially the reminder that endless debates and negotiations are a sign that the parent is not "firmly rooted in your authority as the Captain of the ship", and that when a parent is desperately resorting to bribes and threats, it is a sign that power ("to make or break your serenity") has passed to the child.  The section on challenging our beliefs about the way that our children should behave, based on the idea that it is the stories we tell ourselves that cause us distress rather than actual events, is also very helpful.  It contains practical suggestions (using Byron Katie's four questions to probe the truth and impacts of our beliefs and even explore their opposites) on how to reassess the meanings we give to our children's behaviour.  The chapter that I picked up most new ideas from was probably that on attachment, based on Gordon Neufeld's "six stages of attachment" (proximity, sameness, belonging/loyalty, significance, love & being known), which I hadn't come across before.  These can be used to generate ideas on how to connect and maintain closeness with our children, such as demonstrating that we take pleasure in their company, focusing on things that we have in common, finding opportunities to show that we are on their side, and letting them know that we perceive them as special and important.  I liked the advice - which I know but often forget in the moment - on the futility of trying to advise or lecture in heated moments ("a child cannot process what you're saying when he's upset"), and the importance of responding to the feelings beneath children's words rather than getting caught up in debating the (often misleading) content of what they are saying.  I was intrigued by the assertion that "one of the greatest gifts we can give our children is to help them find their tears and feel their sadness fully when they're frustrated" - this goes against my usual instincts to try to cheer up a distressed child, but I can see the logic in the idea that fully experiencing the emotion may be the most direct route to accepting and adapting to the situation - as is so powerfully expressed in the movie Inside Out.  The other section of the book which I found most persuasive was the description of the importance of allowing time to hear a child's feelings in a problematic situation before attempting to offer advice or suggestions - Stiffelman describes these stages as "Act I" (asking "what's it like to be you?", and giving the child a chance to feel heard and understood), and "Act II", when the parent can offer their guidance to the (hopefully by now more receptive) child.  The later chapters of the book felt less compelling to me (they were less relevant to my family's situation, and seemed to provide less detailed practical advice), but overall this was a book that I found encouraging and helpful, if not particularly original.

Coming Home - Sue Gee

I found this book very unsettling. It is a family saga about a young couple with high hopes "coming home" to start a new life in England after Indian Independence, and contains plenty of sweet and funny period details, but I found the character of the mother very disturbing: her attempts to create an identity for herself by writing about her experiences are repeatedly unsuccessful, even leading her to a breakdown at one point.  I was also troubled by the description of the various ways that the children suffer because of well-intentioned or thoughtless actions (or in several cases, inaction!) by their parents. Perhaps I overreacted to these themes due to my current situation as a full-time mother who has just moved countries and is wondering to what extent choices we make for them now will have a long-term effect on our children's characters and happiness, but to me this book seemed essentially tragic. I was surprised to learn afterwards that the book is largely autobiographical, and seems to have been intended as a sort of affectionate tribute to her parents. I wonder whether, knowing that she was in part motivated by love and nostalgia, she worked hard to avoid writing something sentimental or saccharine, and perhaps went a little too far the other way.

Instructions for a Heatwave - Maggie O'Farrell

The heatwave of 1976 makes a good backdrop for this novel about three siblings brought together to help their mother search for their missing father.  It's a gripping read, full of well-observed characters and situations, which uses multiple overlapping scenarios to explore the impact of keeping secrets on relationships and families. I particularly liked the 'wild child' Aoife whose rebellion was forced upon her by a personal difficulty she was unable to acknowledge.