Cheryl ForbesAndrew Klavan, creator of crime novels, screen writer, and satirist, has written the kind of book I prefer to spend time with: one that you want to spend even more time with. One you want to reread as soon as you have finished reading it for the first time. Few books give me that today. The novels of A.S. Byatt. The work of Thomas Sowell. The books — all of them — of C. S. Lewis. For older writing, the poets Klavan covers in the first two sections of his book: Wordsworth, Coleridge, Keats, to name a few of the Romantic poets, and, inevitably, John Milton and his great epic, Paradise Lost.
The argument is simple. Klavan believes that, as the cover of the book says, reading “England’s greatest poets point[s] the way” to knowing Jesus. But the argument, when we reach the third section of the book, its heart, turns out not to be so simple after all. And it all hinges on the Logos, the Word, the beginning of John. On language incarnate: the God made Man. And, for those of us who believe in the God made Man, our commitment to also embody the Word, the language, his story in our story, our story in his.
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