So when I heard about Purple Jesus I was intrigued by the promise from the publishers blurb:

As funny as it is sad, as beautiful as it is ugly, as authentic as it is shocking, and as powerful as anything you ll ever read, Ron Cooper s Purple Jesus is a murder mystery, a love story, a religious allegory and, most importantly, a dark and comic descent into the lives and world views of three unbelievable and unforgettable characters.

So did it deliver? Sort of.  I will confess that any religious allegory or philosophical insight went right over my head (I admit I am not one to catch symbolism and the like). And it wasn’t really much of a love story.

What really sets the book apart is the “a dark and comic descent into the lives and world views” aspect. The capture of a time, place and culture rescues the book in my opinion.

The plot turns on three characters:

• “Purvis Driggers is a South Carolina Low Country loser. With little judgment and even less chance for a decent life beyond his parents house, home town, and whatever part-time work he can scrounge up …”

• Martha Umphlett: “Married and just as quickly divorced, Martha’s been condemned to return to the home she’d once escaped. Made to take care of her obese mother, and forced to participate in a baptism she has no interest in whatsoever …”

• Brother Andrew, a monk at a nearby monastery whose call more and more is not to God, but to nature, and more importantly, to somewhere else. He wanders the swamp to watch birds, practice archery, and meditate …”

Purvis thinks he has a way to finally escape but Martha does as well and it involves Purvis – and not in the way he hopes.

The week point in this threesome is Brother Andrews and the bird watching. I will confess that I saw absolutely no point in this character or in the book that goes with Brother Andrew – the bird watching diary from Father Philip. Maybe that is why I missed the allegory.

But the tale of Martha and Purvis is highly entertaining. Purvis is one of those lovable losers who just can’t rise about his situation or intelligence to break free from the low level tragedy of his life. When he decides to “go big” he simply escalates the tragedy to higher levels.

Martha realizes that taking advantage of this is cruel and wrong but she sees no other choice. Martha is not the beautiful victim – or she is not just the beautiful victim – she seems to be; instead she is cold hearted and focused on revenge and escape and she doesn’t care who she has to use to get what she wants.

But as I noted above, what really makes Purple Jesus worth a read is the colorful dialog and characterizations. Cooper captures a time/place/culture in his depiction of South Carolina Low Country small town life. The language, the relationships, the habits and vices, the world view – they all come to tragi-comic life under Copper’s hand.

The reader feels that this place really exists – or used to – and that Cooper is more an anthropologist than writer at times. There is clearly some philosophical underpinnings involved – and despite what I said above I was not blind to them all – pantheism and platonism, etc.

I would recommend Purple Jesus to anyone who enjoys lush and poetic descriptions along with the illuminating of unique worlds and cultures.  It is a unique work with a unique perspective.

Here is the synopsis from the publisher:

There is a land of two kingdoms, but only one true King. A living land, where foundations grow in trees and rivers sing and breathe. A dying land, where the darkness of a false prince threatens to swallow everything in its shadow.

Enter Between Two Kingdoms with Tommy, an eternally seven-year-old child of the Great King, as he and his friends accept the challenge of the Good Prince to live as grown men and women in the Lower Kingdom—where hope is hidden, vision is clouded, and pride twists truth into a beautiful yet deadly deception.

As the synopsis eludes to above, the basic story line follows Tommy as he accepts a mission into the lower kingdom. Setting out he knows very little about what lies ahead. Once there, however, it is revealed that the assignment involves stopping a plot to cover the entire lower kingdom in darkness and smoke in order to control and enslave the frightened  population. Tommy and his friends must protect as many people as they can and then find a way to destroy the machine that is creating the smog like smoke that begins to cover the kingdom.

You can get an idea of what the author was trying to portray and flush out in this short video.

To me the book felt either too simple or incomplete. It had the feel of a story you might write to experiment with ideas and symbols (and characters) – a sort of thought experiment in the form of a novella. And in this way it had some interesting aspects.

But as a work of literature taken as a whole it fell flat for me.

The story has some elements that are interesting: the basic concept of the two kingdoms; the river as a living interactive force; the phantom messengers who can’t bear to see themselves in a mirror.  These elements are interesting ways to express ideas about our spiritual lives and interactions. (The Kingdom of Heaven and the kingdoms of earth; the role of the Holy Spirit; and the way our souls can be corrupted by evil or neglect.)

But other elements made little sense to me either as part of the story or as elements in the allegory. Why would everybody be seven years old? Why did they seemingly eat only cookies and ice cream in the upper kingdom? Why tree houses? You could attempt to come up with spiritual ideas behind these concepts (the faith of children, etc.) but the story didn’t really present them in such a way as to propmt that sort of thinking. Rather it was difficult to understand what was fantastical background and what was meant as something deeper – at least outside of the obvious elements.

The characters of the King and Good Prince were clearly God and Christ (with the River as the Holy Spirit) but they too seemed rather one dimensional. All powerful, wise, loving, etc. This made them appear a little too sentimental – at least to my taste.

Allegories can sacrifice three dimensional characters in order to delve more into the philosophical questions they address – using characters and events as symbols to tell a story but to make an argument or illustrate ideas in more lively and persuasive way because of the artfulness involved.

If the insights offered or the emotional depth involved are not there, however, attempts at allegory can fall flat. I think this is what happened here. The ideas were not enough to fully bring the story alive and the story was too simple to stand on its own.

Between Two Kingdoms is a quick and easy read. And as I noted above, it has some interesting – creative and thought-provoking – visual and literary elements. But as a whole it just seems unfinished. Not quite polished enough nor deep enough to do more than just suggest symbols and concepts.

It struck me as an interesting experiment but, in the end, not a successful one.

So when I heard about The Little General and the Giant Snowflake I was intrigued.  Here is the publisher‘s blurb:

The Little General and the Giant Snowflake is a beautifully illustrated allegory by a leading poet, perfect for children and adults alike. The little general heads an army called the Realists, and every day he and his troops practice battle formations on a field, while the Dreamers use it to play strange, peaceful games. His soldiers include Sergeant Samantha, wishes the general would pay attention to her, and Lieutenant Lyle, who always seems to get into trouble. One day the little general sees a giant snowflake hovering in his garden. Ashamed, he pretends not to see it, but eventually he discovers that everyone in his army has a similar problem. What magical message is the snowflake trying to bring to the general, and to the world?

It turned out to be a sort of mix between an idealistic – almost naive – allegory and an absurdest story.

You have the appropriately named Little General who has suppressed his imagination and the rather tall Sergeant Samantha who has a crush on him.  And there is Lieutenant Lyle who likes to sing silly songs but is not very good at military marches.

The General leads the realist army while the idealists play make believe with imaginary animals nearby.  There is no real war or battle just two camps side by side.  The Realists do practive various marches under the general’s guidance but they have never actually engaged the enemy.

But this regimen is interrupted when the general encounters a large snowflake and starts dreaming about lemmings.

Spoiler Alert!

It turns out the snowflake is a sign of repressed imagination – the bigger the snowflake above your head the more you have suppressed your imagination.

The general at first tries to pretend it isn’t there and go on with his life but brave Lieutenant Lyle admits he has seen the snowflake and frees the rest of the army to do the same.  Little General and Samantha have tea and live happily every after.  Sort of.

Parts of the story were rather clever and humorous; and the drawings have the feel of a 1970′s children’s book with a dash of New Yorker cartoons thrown in.

But the allegorical aspect just seemed too flip and overly-simplified.  Wars are started by men who have suppressed their imagination; who are too rigid and demanding out of insecurity?  This is cliche not insight.

And what is the point?  That the world would be a better place if everyone was able to play with imaginary creatures (as the idealists do) and sing silly songs like Lt. Lyle?  Adults lose something important when they give up their childhood imagination?  Again, little new or insightful here.

Nope, just doesn’t work for me.  Of course, I am an admitted realist myself.  Perhaps I should keep an eye out for a giant snowflake …

[disclaimer: I received a free copy of this book from the publisher]