Journalling is meant to be an ongoing thing, not something you do when your ideas are fully formed, when the books are read and reflected on - or so I've been told for the last umpteen years - they are a record of developing thought, unfinished, maybe unfinishable explorations, stuff and nonsense, profound insights and who knows what else.  All of which is by way of saying that I have read around 70 pages of the novel Gilead about which people are raving (in a positive sense) and wanted to record what I "think of it so far."

It is certainly a clever and intriguing novel, with no chapter breaks (yet, and a flick through pages suggests maybe one near the end) so it offers a different reading experience from the usual 'one chapter before bed' type of thing.  At the same time every now and then you get a larger gap between paragraphs and once in a while the *** that used to appear in 19th Century stuff.

Recently as part of preparation for a funeral I was lent a DVD recorded by the deceased to be played after his death.  The feel was very similar to what I have read so far of Gilead - one incident linked to another, seemingly unrelated, and then he returned to his thread.  I have noticed the same when I talk with older people who can talk for ages, going "all round Bill's mother's" before returning to complete an account of some utterly trivial incident.  If this is part of the author's aim, then she's done a good job - it certainly feels authentic.

Some people have said this the first 'Barthian novel.'  I don't know what they mean - in the style of? with theology of?  I know, because other people have quoted chunks of it, that Barth gets mentioned in the novel.  What I would say is that reading the novel, for me, feels a bit like reading Barth.  I like Barth - but (or because) it is demanding to read and although (or because) sometimes when I think I've understood him I realise I haven't.  I have to read him in English (I never learned German) and I usually read him out loud and quite fast because, for me, this brings out the energy of his arguments and makes his writing feel exciting (someone will no doubt tell me he spoke slowly and thoughtfully...).  Perhaps it's as well I live alone!!  Gilead I read silently, but find myself developing a mental southern drawl, which again somehow brings the words to life (I usually read in my own accent).

I don't know whether I'll conclude that this is a great novel, worthy of all the praise others heap upon it.  But I will continue to read it, to find out what it has to say and to allow it to make me think a bit.  After Mark Haddon's short sentences and punchy paragraphs (A Spot of Bother) it is a very different undertaking to read this novel - but that's no bad thing.

A last thought (for now) the title of the book reminded me of the old, and no longer used hymn "There is a balm in Gilead"

There is a balm in Gilead
To make the wounded whole
There is a balm in Gilead
To heal the sin sick soul

Sometimes I feel discouraged
And think my work's in vain
But then the holy spirit
Revives my soul again

If you can not preach
Like Peter
If you can not pray
Like Paul
You can tell the love of Jesus
And say, "he died for all

Whether this hymn was partly inspiration for the novel, I don't know, but I wouldn't be surprised.