"Love follows knowledge."
"Beauty above all beauty!"
– St. Catherine of Siena

Sunday, February 15, 2026

Sunday Meditation: But I Say To You

The Sixth Sunday of Ordinary Time in Year A, Jesus continues the Sermon on the Mount.  Today is a very long passage, but I will break it down to understand why it’s one complete teaching.  On the surface it appears to be a random set of sayings, but it holds together quite well.  Let’s decompose it.

It breaks down into two sections which I’ll call A and B.  A will have three sub elements and B will have four.  Here is the structure of the passage.

 

A.    The Law

1.     Fulfillment (v. 17-18)

2.     Not Relaxing (v. 19)

3.     Exceeding Righteousness (v. 20)

 

B.    You Have Heard It Said…But I Say To You

1.     Anger (v. 21-26)

2.     Adultery (v. 27-30)

3.     Divorce (v. 31-32)

4.     Swearing Oaths (v. 33-37)

In part A, Jesus is teaching us that in Him “the law” comes to fulfillment, not by relaxing the law, but by exceeding “righteousness.”  In Part B, He gives us four examples in the parallel structure of the law (“You have heard it said”) and its fulfillment (“but I say to you).  The four examples are interesting.  Those are not, I think, the ethical requirements that would come to mind to a first century Jew.

 

 


 

Here is today’s Gospel reading.

 

 

Jesus said to his disciples:

"Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets.

I have come not to abolish but to fulfill.

Amen, I say to you, until heaven and earth pass away,

not the smallest letter or the smallest part of a letter

will pass from the law,

until all things have taken place.

Therefore, whoever breaks one of the least of these commandments and teaches others to do so

will be called least in the kingdom of heaven.

But whoever obeys and teaches these commandments

will be called greatest in the kingdom of heaven.

I tell you, unless your righteousness surpasses

that of the scribes and Pharisees,

you will not enter the kingdom of heaven.

 

"You have heard that it was said to your ancestors,

You shall not kill; and whoever kills will be liable to judgment.

But I say to you,

whoever is angry with his brother

will be liable to judgment;

and whoever says to his brother, 'Raqa,'

will be answerable to the Sanhedrin;

and whoever says, 'You fool,'

will be liable to fiery Gehenna.

Therefore, if you bring your gift to the altar,

and there recall that your brother

has anything against you,

leave your gift there at the altar,

go first and be reconciled with your brother,

and then come and offer your gift.

Settle with your opponent quickly while on the way to court.

Otherwise your opponent will hand you over to the judge,

and the judge will hand you over to the guard,

and you will be thrown into prison.

Amen, I say to you,

you will not be released until you have paid the last penny.

 

"You have heard that it was said,

You shall not commit adultery.

But I say to you,

everyone who looks at a woman with lust

has already committed adultery with her in his heart.

If your right eye causes you to sin,

tear it out and throw it away.

It is better for you to lose one of your members

than to have your whole body thrown into Gehenna.

And if your right hand causes you to sin,

cut it off and throw it away.

It is better for you to lose one of your members

than to have your whole body go into Gehenna.

 

"It was also said,

Whoever divorces his wife must give her a bill of divorce.

But I say to you,

whoever divorces his wife -  unless the marriage is unlawful -

causes her to commit adultery,

and whoever marries a divorced woman commits adultery.

 

"Again you have heard that it was said to your ancestors,

Do not take a false oath,

but make good to the Lord all that you vow.

But I say to you, do not swear at all;

not by heaven, for it is God's throne;

nor by the earth, for it is his footstool;

nor by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the great King.

Do not swear by your head,

for you cannot make a single hair white or black.

Let your 'Yes' mean 'Yes,' and your 'No' mean 'No.'

Anything more is from the evil one."

~Mt: 5:17-37

 

Dr. Brant Pitre, who we haven’t had in a while, offers an explanation of fulfillment and the exceeding of righteousness.

 

 

Dr. Pitre:

“What Jesus is revealing here … are aspects of the Old Testament that are not perfect.  In other words, they're not what God ultimately wants for his people… Jesus wants to perfect that law of righteousness and bring the disciples up to the top of the mountain where he's going to give them the new law of the gospel that's not going break the old law but it's going to transform.  It's going to transfigure. It's going to transcend it and bring them up to the the Kingdom of Heaven.  That's what he means when he says that their righteousness must exceed that of the Pharisees.”

 

For the pastoral homily, I liked Fr. Joseph Mary of the Capuchin Franciscans.

 

 

Fr. Joseph:

“Sometimes when I'm traveling across the country in my car, I have to go through very small towns. And it's not unusual for me to find myself sitting at a stoplight on some country road at midnight without another car in sight for miles. The law says I should wait for the light to turn green before going. I never do that. I run the red light every time.”

 

What?  Is he serious? He runs the red light every time?  LOL, no way.  I hope that was just to just to bring out the theme of the homily.

What justifies us?  “For Christians, it's not the works of the law that justify, but works of faith, namely, to believe in Jesus Christ and to accept the gift of redemption.”

 

 

 

Sunday Meditation: "Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets.  I have come not to abolish but to fulfill.”

 

 

I love this song, “Prayer for Guidance” by John Michael Talbot.

 

 

Most High and glorious God

Bring light to the darkness of my heart

Give me right faith, certain hope

And perfect charity

 

Lord, give me insight and wisdom

So I might always discern

Your holy and true will

Friday, February 13, 2026

Short Story Analysis: “The Night Before Christmas” by Nicolai Gogol, Post 1

This is the first of three posts on the short story “The Night Before Christmas” by Nicolai Gogol.  While this seems to be listed as a short story, the length and multiple plot lines would suggest to me to be a novella.

 


Concerning the translation, I am using The Collected Tales of Nikolai Gogol, which includes this story and is translated by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky.  By chance I happened to own this book.  You don’t need the book.  You can find this story in a number of places online such as Gutenberg.  Here is an online version with annotations which might be helpful.  https://litarchive.online/the-night-before-christmas#google_vignette  I think all the online versions use the Constance Garnett translation. Garnett translated all the major 19th century Russian literature in the first half of the 20th century.  Her translations I suspect are outside the copy write laws.  Pevear and Volokhonsky are contemporary translators, and seem to be on a mission to translate all the Russian writers anew.  They have won awards, so I do trust them.  But Constance Garnett has a great reputation as a Russian translator as well.  As I’ve compared, I don’t think there is that much of a difference. 


There is one noticeable difference.  The names are spelled differently.  I think Garnett altered the spelling for a more phonetic appeal to English speaking readers.  I don’t think it matters.  If I am going to quote for this discussion I will probably pull from the online source so I can copy and paste.  One other translation thing to be aware, some places online translate the title as “Christmas Eve” rather than “The Night Before Christmas.”  I don’t think that matters.

Let me provide some preliminaries to aid the reader.  This is a 19th century story and a story from a Russian author.  Both of these details can provide some difficulties.  A 19th century story provides more exposition and/or overture than a contemporary story.  A 20th century short story writer will tend to start the story in medias res, or “in the middle of things.”  He will tend not to start with exposition and context, but will somehow get it in once the story is started.  You have to give a 19th century story a little more time to develop. 

A 19th century story will tend to be more verbose, detailed, or exhaustive than a 20th century story.  Contemporary stories use elements of poetry and distill their stories with symbols, allusions, loaded imagery, and other literary devices.  It comes down to realism versus emotional engagement.  The more abundant details of a 19th century story, the more realistic it feels.  The more symbolism of a 20th century story though with less details, the greater the emotional connection. 

Finally the Russianness of this story does give the non-Russian reader some difficulties.  Russians do (or maybe they only once did and no longer) have a particular way of passing names down.  This could be a difficulty in some long Russian novels, but I don’t think it’s an issue in this story.  There are some cultural distinctions that you will have to do a search on.  In this story you will come across the caroling (koliadovat) the townspeople do on Christmas Eve.  It’s not just simple caroling as we do here but where the carolers are given treats for their effort.  It seems like it combines elements of our Halloween into caroling.  Another is some traditional Christmas Eve dish, kutya, which appears to be a required dish.  There are also different types of Cossacks mentioned, and they are each associated with a specific region.  Other than geography, I don’t know their relationship.  There are historical persons who are real people fictionalized.  Three that I remember are Queen Catherine the Great, Prince Potemkin, and Denis Fonvizin.  Just do a search and they come up pretty easily. 

Finally Nicolai Gogol is a Ukrainian, not a Russian, and so there are distinctions I seem to feel but not converse in the subject enough to understand.  As we have learned these four years of the Ukraine-Russian War, they are not exactly the same culture.  There are some language distinctions and I would bet rsburg.  There may be significance in this, but it’s outside my ken.  Given the evolving n4186many cultural as well.  We know this story occurs in Ukraine, but there is a trip over to St. Petersburg of Ukraine’s borders with Russia, that may also have some significance that alludes me.  Catherine the Great was a Russian queen, but I have no idea what her relationship with Ukraine was at this time in history.  The story is set in a town called Dikanka, but nearby there is a town called Sorochintsy where some sort of assessor or bureaucrat resides.  I found both towns are small when I looked them up but I have no context for a relationship between them.  But even though I had to struggle to understand some of this, I don’t think it causes the non-Russian reader to get the wonder and delight of this story.



As to Gogol’s place in Russian literature, he is one of the greats that stand with go along with Pushkin, Tolstoy, Dostevsky, Turgenev, and Chekhov.  Pushkin was Gogol’s predecessor and a friend, and ten years older than Gogol.  Gogol was a good ten to twenty years younger than the other contemporaneous Russian greats except for Chekhov who was born some eight years after Gogol had died.  Gogol’s writing career was over twenty-two years (1830-1852) and included short stories, one novel, drama, and essays.  He is known as a great developer of the form of the short story, which perhaps he is best known for, but his one novel, Dead Souls, is also highly respected and acclaimed.  Gogol split his career writing in early life in Ukraine and then moving to St. Petersburg.

###

This story, “The Night Before Christmas” or sometimes translated as “Christmas Eve,”  is such a superb story.  Frankly I think this is elite level of story writing.  The 19th century Russians are just so good.  I jotted down some notes and I hope it will help readers that might get lost.  First a list of characters.  This is probably not comprehensive but I think it includes all the major characters.  I am using the spelling in my Pevear/Volokhonky translation.  It may be different in your translation.

My early comments here are first impressions.  By the third post I will have arrived at a more complete understanding of the story.  So take my early comments with a grain of salt.  I don’t think there is anything erroneous in them but they do speak from a lack of complete understanding.  It took several reads


List of Characters

The Witch, Solokha, Vakula’s mother

The Devil

Cossack Choub

The Deacon, Osip Nikiforovich

The Headman (Sexton)

Cossack Sverbyguz

Father Kondrat

Choub’s daughter, Oksana

Vakula, the blacksmith

Panas, Choub’s chum

Tymish Korostyavy

Paunchy Patsiuk, the Zaporozhet, wizard

Shapuvalenko, the weaver

Panas’s wife

The Weaver’s Wife

The Deacon’s Wife
Pereperchikha (Pereperchenko’s wife)

The Zaporozhtsy Cossacks

Prince Potemkin, Grigory Alexandrovich

Empress Catherine the Great


Most short stories have only one plot line.  This one has at least four plot lines that I could count.  The plot lines weave in and out of each other.  It may be helpful to list them, so you can understand what is going on and how they are interconnected. 


Plot Lines

Vakula wins Oksana’s hand in marriage.  (Main plot)

Devil stealing the moon and causing chaos

Choab’s Christmas Eve celebration and adventures

Solokha’s dalliances.


I’m trying to arrive at a main theme.  Perhaps it could be: love wins despite the devil’s confusion?  But it’s more complicated than that.  Why is everyone except maybe Vakula the blacksmith so sinful?  Whatever the central theme might be there are some recurring motifs that I noticed.  Here’s my list.

Motifs:

Pranks

Chaos/confusion

Not being able to see correctly

Things and people hidden

Infidelity/Promiscuity

Merry making/Laughter

Sin

Use of the “unclean powers”

Sophistication vs. simplicity

 

This story is very complex.  I haven’t figured it all out yet, and I am so enchanted with it I am going to read it for a third time.  I will soon post on some truly remarkable scenes.



###

Frances’s Comment:

Last year a friend recommended a Russian novel to me, The Master and Margarita. It is a highly creative, imaginative — at times even wild — story told in three parts. The heroine, Margarita, is a beautiful young woman who rides in the air through Moscow — on a broom. At first I thought of the Wizard of Oz, but when I looked it up, I learned that the image of a female character riding a broom is a common trope in Russian literature. Of course, I recognized it again in this story.

My Reply to Frances:

Thanks for that Frances. This story is highly dependent on its Russian/Ukrainian folklore. Unfortunately we can’t totally comprehend the nuances.

###

Kerstin’s Summary of the Early Section:

THE DAY OF CHRISTMAS EVE ENDED, AND the night began, cold and clear. The stars and the crescent moon shone brightly upon the Christian world, helping all the good folks welcome the birth of our Savior. The cold grew sharper, yet the night was so quiet that one could hear the snow squeak under a traveler’s boots from half a mile away. Caroling hadn’t yet begun; village youths weren’t yet crowded outside the windows waiting for treats; the moon alone peeked through, as though inviting the girls to finish up their toilette and run out onto the clean, sparkling snow.

 

So begins our adventure into goings-on of the little village Dikanka on the night before the Savior is born.

 

Out of the chimney comes a witch flying on her broom.

Sorochinsky, the property assessor, usually does not miss anything going on in the village, but this time he is far away.

 

The witch flies about on her broom and collects stars into her sleeve.

 

The exceedingly ugly devil appears on the scene and after a couple of tries stuffs the moon into his pocket. Now all of Dikanka is cast in full darkness. His purpose is revenge on the blacksmith Vakula, who is also a talented artist.

 

The pinnacle of his art was agreed to be a large panel inside the church porch which depicted St. Peter expelling the devil from hell on the day of the Last Judgment. Faced with imminent death, the terrified devil darts here and there, while the forgiven sinners bash him with whips and sticks. The devil tried everything to stop Vakula from finishing the hateful portrait, shoving his hand, blowing soot on the panel—but despite his heartiest efforts the painting was completed and nailed to the church wall, and since then the devil swore to take revenge on its creator. For only one more night could he roam freely and look for a way to pay Vakula back—hence the moon theft.

 

As an added bonus, the darkness would also prevent Cossack Chub, and other prominent citizens from attending the deacon’s holiday dinner.

The devil having set in motion this mischief starts flirting with the witch.

 

Chub and Panas, Oksana’s godfather (kum) step onto the porch of Chub’s cottage and realize it is pitch black. Chub curses the devil. He doesn’t want to miss the deacon’s dinner he is already wistfully anticipating of a bottle of spiced vodka.

 

Meanwhile, Chub’s daughter Oksana is standing in front of a mirror completely engrossed in her own reflection. Vakula enters the cottage unbeknownst to her and is equally taken by her. He wants to marry her, but she only toys with him, and he knows it.

 

So what is the devil up to? It is very cold flying through the air, so the witch descends back down and into her chimney. The devil follows her, but before he enters the chimney he creates a blizzard so Chub and kum get disoriented and turn back home in the hopes of catching Vakula and Oksana alone.

 

Who is the witch? Her name is Solokha and Valuka’s mother. As it turns out, she provides extra-marital entertainment for many of the village’s esteemed male citizens. Her favorite is the well-to-do widower Chub whom she aspires to claim for herself and his riches. The only wrinkle in the scheme is her son Vakula and his infatuation with Oksana, so she resorts to all sorts of witchery to foil them.




Sunday, February 8, 2026

Sunday Meditation: Taste and See

On the Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time in Year A, Jesus continues His Sermon on the Mount where He endows His followers with two very powerful symbols: salt and light.  Three years ago I embedded videos from Dr. Brant Pitre to provide the Old Testament significance of salt and light.  Of the various points of connection, the one that strikes me most significant is how salt was used in the Temple sacrifices as a link to the Covenant.  That is well worth going back to.

One lesson I picked up in reading about this passage that I don’t think any of the homilies below point out is that Jesus says “You are the salt” and You are the light.”  He doesn’t say you will become the salt or become the light. You are so now, and if I put on a theologian hat for a second, I would venture that one became salt and light at one’s baptism.  But notice He says that you can lose that flavor or you can dim that light.  How can one lose it?  By not doing good deeds in the world.

 


Here is today’s Gospel reading.

 

 

Jesus said to his disciples:

"You are the salt of the earth.

But if salt loses its taste, with what can it be seasoned?

It is no longer good for anything

but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot.

You are the light of the world.

A city set on a mountain cannot be hidden.

Nor do they light a lamp and then put it under a bushel basket;

it is set on a lampstand, where it gives light to all in the house.

Just so, your light must shine before others,

that they may see your good deeds

and glorify your heavenly Father."

~Mt: 5:13-16

 

Fr. Tim Peters always has great explanatory homilies on these passages, but they tend to be very long.  This one is long but manageable, and as always thorough.



Fr. Tim:

“Salt should remind us that the new and eternal covenant in Christ is permanent, eternal and that we must continue to proclaim the same truth of the Gospel without compromise until Christ returns.  Moreover, through our words and actions others [through us] should encounter the love of Christ.”

That observation by Fr. Tim that the Menorah was always burning in the Holy of Holies is also a point of connection to Christ’s analogy.

 

I’m going back to Archbishop Edward Weisenburger for the pastoral homily.

 


The Archbishop points out words from the root salt: salad, salary, Salzburg.  There are others one could mention, cities such as Salisbury and Salerno, words such as saline, salacious, and salter. 

Archbishop Weisenburger:

“It is critical for us to note, too, that light does not exist for itself  any more than salt exists for salt.  Rather, light's purpose is to benefit others, to enable others to see. A lamp doesn't exist for itself. It exists so that others can see…This precisely is the ministry  Jesus entrusts to his disciples…And in doing so, they forever serve as a critical reminder that  any understanding of religion that views faith to be only a personal matter or a private  experience is a lie. No, our "saltiness" and our "light" originate in God but are given to us in order to draw others into community with us, because it is always within community that the fullness of the Gospel is found.”

 

 

Sunday Meditation: “Your light must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father."

 

Well, the hymn is easy to pick this Sunday.  The archbishop has recommended one and I think it’s perfect, “Taste and See.”

 



Taste and see. Taste and see

the goodness of the Lord.

O, taste and see. Taste and see

the goodness of the Lord, of the Lord.

Wednesday, February 4, 2026

The Lighthouse: A Novel by Michael D. O’Brien, Post #6

This is the sixth and final post on Michael D. O’Brien’s novel, The Lighthouse: A Novel.

You can find Post #1 here. 

Post #2 here. 

Post #3 here. 

Post #4 here.

Post #5 here. 

 

 


 

My chapter by chapter thoughts and discussions can be found in my previous five posts.  This post consists solely of my review of the book at Goodreads.

 

Goodreads Review

 

I gave this only two stars.  I did very much want to enjoy and praise this book.  This is my first Michael D. O’Brien novel, and frankly I did not know what to expect.  I had heard of him and had wanted to read one of his novels.  After all he may be the most distinguished Catholic writer of fiction writing today.  But his more well-known works can run anywhere from 500 to 1000 pages, I never had the time to commit to such a long read.  This read was a very manageable 200 pages.

 

This review will have spoilers.

 

As you can read in the novel’s blurb, the premise of the novel is we follow the adult life of Ethan McQuarry, a young man in charge of taking care of a lighthouse off the coast of Cape Breton Island in Canada.  Ethan lives with a childhood trauma of having his father abandon him before he was born, raised poorly by a solitary mother, who once he reached an age where he can fend for himself, abandons him too.  When the solitary job of a lighthouse keeper becomes available, he takes it, seeing it as a natural fit for his loner sensibility.  Notably, the lighthouse is situated on a strip of land that is an island at high tide but connected with a walkable strip on low tide.

As a lighthouse keeper he has the time to develop the skill of carpentry and woodworking.  When a dilapidated boat washes up on his island after a storm, Ethan refurbishes the boat.  The boat will eventually become significant.  Ethan also starts sculpting wooden statues from washed up driftwood, most significantly he sculpts men, women, and children who he calls his family.

The plot of the novel can be seen as Ethan’s encounters to what may be called intruders to his island.  There is an iconic, even parablelike, quality to the story.  Two intruders are significant.  Both are doppelgangers to Ethan’s character.  One is Skillsaw Hurley (Skillsaw because he cut off three of his fingers with a power saw), also with childhood trauma, who is Ethan’s double if he had not grown to be societally functional.  Ross, Ethan’s other doppelganger, is a young man who is Ethan’s double because he too has had his father abandon him, but has grown with a good adopting father so that his trauma has not affected his personality.  Unlike Ethan he is very jovial, gregarious, and socially adjusted.

Now on the surface, this all sounds interesting, and the premise of the novel is great.  Alas the execution is terrible.  The flaws just mounted on top of each other.  First, the characters, despite their premises, are really cartoon figures.  There is no depth to them.  O’Brien gives us the exposition of their background with no dramatic or narrative backing.  Second for the central character to be credibly traumatized such trauma requires some narrative development, either through flashback (think Faulkner), through character interplay (think Dickens), or through straight narrative (think of Jane in the early chapters of Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre).  We have to understand his experience, not just be told.  The whole novel rests on Ethan’s personality, and we have only cursory exposition to know how he was formed.

Third, the central theme of the modern world having degenerated because of its lack of Christianity, while a theme having weight and importance, is delineated in a superficial way.  Characters who represent the modern world are even more cartoonish than the central characters.  The freakish, rude granddaughter, with the blue spiked hair, nose ring, and startling clothes, of a conservative elderly Japanese couple is contrasted against her grandparents for us to show the generational decay.  Really?  How many people in the modern world walk around with blue spiked hair and nose rings?  A good writer should be “steel manning” the opposition argument, not “straw manning.”  The contrasts between the characters with traditional values against those who have “modern” values are not very compelling.  Frankly, and I don’t know if the author intended this or not, the motif of mothers in the novel not able to function without husbands borders misogyny.

Fourth, the characterization of showing the hole in Ethan’s heart from his abandonment as a child, is poorly executed.  Ethan’s wooden carvings of family figures is an interesting detail, but when he starts talking to them and calling the mother figure his “wife” and the boy his “child” that calls him “papa,” it just comes across as creepy.  I don’t think O’Brien intends to portray Ethan as creepy.  He is supposed to be a hero with perhaps his childhood trauma as a flaw.  If O’Brien had just left the story with Ethan psychologically compelled to create family figures, I think the reader would have gotten the psychological connection, and it would have been appropriate.  But he takes it a step too far.  The strangest is when Ethan has an imaginary conversation with a real-life woman he met several years earlier and then when “glancing across the room at his artificial wife, he felt a momentary guilt of infidelity.”  Infidelity to a wooden stature?  That’s just silly and awful.  If O’Brien was after some sort of psychological insight to Ethan’s character, this is just poorly done.

Fifth, large swaths of the novel are boring.  The Skillsaw chapter was fascinating because O’Brien interweaved fascinating details that brought out Skillsaw’s distinct personality.  But that was just one chapter.  There were four chapters, nearly forty percent of the novel, where Ross and Ethan were seen working together, first repairing and then launching the boat and then building a workroom for Ethan’s woodworking.  There is an emphasis on the manual labor, and I understand the narrative goal of showing male bonding and even the father/son type relationship between the two.  The narrative goal was proper, but again the execution was lacking.  Unlike the Skillsaw chapter, the details were tedious without opening up elements of their characters.  Perhaps this is subjective on my part but given the lack of narrative to their early formative lives I found I really didn’t care about the manual work.  I do realize that the manual work, even the craftsmanship, carries added significance in this novel, but I have to care about the characters first before I find interest in the work.

Lastly, I could not believe this is how O’Brien brought the story to a conclusion: by having Ethan drown in a happenstance storm?  There are so many unfulfilled lines of narrative.  What about Catherine MacInnis, or some other woman to be Ethan’s wife?  What about that hole in his heart for a spouse and children?  What about his carvings and artistry?  What about that work room he and Ross spent a quarter of the novel constructing?  What about his life in the just purchased lighthouse that he spent his life savings on and now has ownership?  What about his relationship to his biological son that he discovered and now loves?  What about Ethan’s nascent Catholicism?  All of these threads could have been tied together by a religious conversion and perhaps wedding.  All his internal demons brought about by that childhood trauma that governed the length of the story could have been brought to rest.

This ending had nothing to do with the story of the novel.  It is simply a Deus ex machina ending where the author by shear plot device brings the novel to a conclusion.  In addition, it is purely a Hollywood movie type ending, packed with schmaltzy heroic action and a self-sacrificing final act that makes the hero into a Christ figure.  Ethan unintentionally even leaves behind a note that Ross will one day read and learn the secret of their relationship.  This is Hollywood sentimentality.

If you want to read this novel, there are enough positive reviews to justify picking it up.  I for one did not find this worthy.  Perhaps I’m just an outlier.  Perhaps I’m just wrong.  If you read it and you disagree, let me know.  Maybe you can change my mind.