A.D. 30

I finished this book, A.D. 30, by Ted Dekker, quite awhile ago, and I apologize that the delay in getting this review out has somewhat diffused my initial impressions.

I gave the book four stars (It's Ted Dekker...how could I not?), but it's a different kind of story than what you might expect from the thriller writer. When I first heard what it was about, I thought of The Big Fisherman, by Lloyd C. Douglas, who also wrote The Robe (two books I read in middle school and was very impressed by). But aside from having similar female protagonists with similar vendettas, their plots play out far differently.

A.D. 30 takes us on Maviah's journey from the depths of the Arabian desert to the palaces of kings and eventually into the presence of another kind of king, Yeshua (Jesus) of Nazareth. Maviah is the illegitimate daughter of an Arabian ruler. She's a former slave brought back to her father's household but still looked down upon. She is nothing, but when her father's wife dies and his alliances fall apart, she may be the only one who can help her people. She just has to go to Palestine and convince King Herod of the Jews of her worth. Accompanied by trusted servants, one of whom she grows to love, she sets out to do the impossible: become a queen. Only an Arabic tribe that wants her dead, two dangerous kings, the past, and her own grievances stand in her way.

While the main plot and conflicts of the story are completely fictionalized and deal with alliances and power-struggles, the climax has to do with issues of the heart, and the heart of this story takes us to the hillsides of Galilee to the teachings of Jesus Christ. Dekker uses passages straight from the Bible for almost all of Jesus' dialog but, of course, still manages to put his own fictional stamp on those scenes, making Jesus seem more of a mystic to the people and the reader than we normally think of him as. In Dekker's telling, he is mysterious. He speaks in riddles, never directly. He knows things about people that a normal human shouldn't be able to know, as though in constant contact with a Being who gives him insight into every heart. Some of these things conflict with how I view Jesus in the Bible, but I didn't feel I could dismiss them entirely. We don't really know much about the day-to-day interactions of Jesus. Perhaps he always spoke in riddles. We know he always taught in parables. Did Jesus know from moment to moment what people were thinking? How much of God was in the Man? While on Earth, he was human, but is it conceivable that God gave him super-human knowledge on a moment-by-moment basis? I guess so.

Writing about Jesus in fiction cannot be easy. I know Dekker had been thinking about this book for years, and I could definitely see Dekker's views on how Jesus works today written into his view of Jesus when he walked the Earth. I'm not sure Dekker is right on this, but I can't say definitively that he's wrong either. I appreciate that he tried not to add to or change Jesus' own words, but there's still a surprising amount you can do without words to create a persona. Regardless, the important part, Jesus' teaching, is not changed. The interesting part comes in how the people interpret Jesus' words, and that can be fictionalized all you want, I suppose.

I confess, my favorite pieces of the story were those that were entirely fictionalized. The sections with Jesus were a little off-putting, partly because so much Bible was directly quoted and because Jesus came across as so mystical and a bit inhuman. I don't know how it might have been done better, but it just didn't entirely work for me. Knowing Dekker, though, I think he'd be happy if the Jesus parts made people uncomfortable, as long as they made them think about what Jesus' words really mean. Hopefully, his version isn't too distracting for the truth to come out. On my part, I saw the truth most clearly not in the words I am so familiar with but through Maviah's understanding of them, and I think that, too, is part of Dekker's plan here.

Dekker always has a message, and you'd expect nothing less from a work of fiction that quotes the Bible directly. His latest focus in writing has had a lot to do with identity and who we really are, as seen through God's eyes. This book has some of that, certainly, but also a lot about letting go of grievances, forgiveness. I noticed other themes as I read, but some of those elude me now after so much time.

A.D. 30 appears to be the beginning of a new series or, at least, the first of two books. It will be interesting to see where Maviah's story goes and how Dekker handles the other events of Jesus' earthly life. Dekker always surprises, perhaps more subtly now than in his early works, and he always makes me think. For that, I am a big fan, ready to explore whatever he may throw at us next.

Water Walker

Water Walker, by Ted Dekker, is the sequel to Eyes Wide Open in the Outlaw Chronicles. Like Eyes Wide Open, Water Walker was released episodically in four parts before the paperback became available. Since I knew I was going to own the book anyway, I waited to read it. Technically, you can read the book by itself, but if you want to read everything that relates to it, you have to go all the way back to books like Showdown and Black. And you'll want to take a look at Outlaw, another "stand-alone" book that sort of kick-started the Outlaw Chronicles. As usual, everything in the Dekker-verse connects. Having read Dekker's other books, it's so interesting to see all the connections, to know Alice's history even though she doesn't. But it doesn't really affect this book at all because Alice narrates most of the book, and what she doesn't know doesn't matter to the story. One thing that differentiates the Outlaw Chronicles from the majority of Dekker's books is that they are targeted to the young adult audience, but aside from teenage protagonists, Dekker's style remains pretty much the same, which is to say highly readable, suspenseful, emotionally engaging, and thought-provoking.

In Water Walker, Alice begins as a thirteen-year-old who remembers only the past six months of her life when she is kidnapped by a man who says he knows her real mother. It might be spoiling to say any more, but I feel like I have to dangle another little tidbit out there. (You've been warned.) Alice soon finds herself immersed in a world of rules and religion, essentially what we might view as a cult, though Alice is too unfamiliar with the world as a whole to recognize it as such. And Alice soon becomes Eden. There's a lot more there, but it would be spoiling to say more.

All the Outlaw Chronicles books have a lot to do with identity. This one links identity with forgiveness, and the message is mind-shattering, though it's not the first time we've seen it in Dekker's books. Outlaw, particularly, goes into a lot of detail on this. One of the things said in Water Walker that especially strikes me and fills me with wonder is that true forgiveness believes there is no offense. Nothing wrong has been done; therefore, there is nothing to take offense at. It's both complicated and simple. It's so hard to grasp in practice, but the idea itself is so elegantly simple. Dekker explains it beautifully and clearly in a way I can't. For instance, one character says, "You will live in terrible suffering, all because you can't bring yourself to let go of your offense." It has a lot to do with water walking, with letting go and trusting in something beyond what our human minds can understand. And this message is so powerful because it is true.

Though part suspenseful thriller (less so than Dekker's hardcore thrillers), much of the journey is spiritual, obviously. The physical circumstances are impossible to overcome until the spiritual ones have been dealt with, and even then, the physical isn't resolved in a matter that one would expect. I love how originally Dekker's books illustrate that "God's ways are not our ways." I guess you could say that these young adult books are tamer than Dekker's usual thrillers in that he doesn't explore pure evil to the same extent (there's evil, yes, but the face of it is not quite as stark). On the other hand, I think these books go deeper thematically. You never forget that there's a purpose behind the story. So, does that lessen the impact of the storytelling, to be a step removed from the action? Is it less entertaining and immersive? It kind of depends on your viewpoint. I'll admit, some of Dekker's books have been more exciting to me, harder to put down. But I'm not sure I got as much out of those books as I do out of these. And really, either way, Dekker doesn't write a boring story. After reading so many of his mainstream, almost "secular" novels, I appreciate the turn his writing and ideas have taken now. For sure, he isn't in a rut, and he always has something new to offer.

I'm excited to read a book of his coming out in October, the story of Jesus from the perspective of a woman of that time. But before A.D. 30 takes us into the life of Jesus, the third book in the Outlaw Chronicles, Hacker, is available June 10.

Allegiant

Although I will try to avoid major SPOILERS, for those of you interested in reading Veronica Roth's Divergent series, you'll probably want to stop reading this review.

I was really impressed by Veronica Roth's story when I began this series with Divergent, reviewed here. Now that I have read Allegiant, the conclusion to the trilogy, I have mixed feelings. Divergent has not lost its luster. And there were aspects of this final novel that still impressed me. I'll get to those in a minute. But overall, Allegiant just wasn't as easy to read for various reasons. There's not as much movement and danger as in the first two books. There's a lot of sitting around thinking. The book is also narrated differently, by two main characters rather than just Tris. And the biggest cause of my mixed feelings is the end. It's so daring (like the Dauntless!) and something that's just not done (or rarely) in young adult fiction, but I'm not sure whether or not it actually works.

Allegiant has a lot to wrap up. I won't go into the details of the first two novels. You can link to my review of those above. Let's just say that in this novel, the world gets bigger. It's no longer just a place that was once called Chicago. The characters are thrust into that bigger world, so the effects of that are part of the story. But they are not completely cut off from the world they left behind, quite the opposite actually.

Identity is a big thing in this book. The factions have been terminated, but when you are raised to think along very narrow lines, that's not something you can simply shed. Tris and Tobias narrate and offer insight into this whole process of change as they come up against new injustices and have to decide whether or not to bring the revolution they began on the inside to the outside.

While I enjoyed the characters and was intrigued by the changes they were going through, this book is not particularly fast-paced. What I do like about it is that this slower pace offers the chance to really delve into some moral questions. Roth is a Christian (or, at the least, a believer in God), and though her books wouldn't be labeled as "Christian," I think her worldview really shows if you care to look. One of the big moral questions of the book is, are genetically deficient humans inferior to those with perfect genes? It's certainly not the first time such a question has been asked, but Roth puts a new spin on it. And she doesn't tackle fixing the problem with the usual simplistic, one-can-be-sacrificed-for-the-many, nihilistic, existential answers. She has characters who have those viewpoints, but she also offers something different, something more complex, maybe not as easy but better.

I was especially impressed by Roth's portrayal of broken relationships and the realistic repercussions of them. She offers a mature way of dealing with such brokenness. Both Tris and Tobias have a lot to forgive and a lot to be forgiven for. They aren't perfect heroes, and they have to live with the consequences of their choices, some of those consequences being more real than we readers might like. And in Tris and Tobias' relationship with each other, a romance that has seen the harsh light of reality, we get more of the author's perspective on what real love is and what a mature approach to love is. You don't see that often in young adult literature. Sure, there are the physical moments and romantic parts teen readers supposedly crave, but Tris and Tobias have whole conversations that are about more than their relationship and about more than their immediate trials. They think. It's refreshing.

It's clear the author wanted to present a thoughtful, meaningful story as much as she wanted an entertaining one. I appreciate that, so I wish I could give the book a higher star rating. But a few things hold me back. For one, sometimes I had a hard time remembering who was narrating. At times, Tris and Tobias sound a lot alike. Their characters and the way they deal with things are not alike, but their inner thoughts sometimes tend to be. Context did not always help me distinguish between them, and a couple times, I would think I was reading one's thoughts when it turned out to be the other's. Then, there was one morality question the author left kind of vague that I wish she hadn't. At no point does she say that Tris and Tobias have sex, and she often makes a point of saying they don't. But there is one time when she leaves it vague, seemingly leaving it to the readers to interpret what happened according to their preferences. I'm not sure of the author's beliefs on this point, but of course, I wish she had leaned toward complete abstinence, the reasons for which I have named in other blogs and won't go into detail about here. Much of the morality addressed in this book is actually quite complicated, and Roth deals with it well, but in this simpler thing, I was disappointed.

The last unfortunate thing about this book is the ending impression. I won't spoil it by concretely revealing what happens, but as I mentioned above, it's an unusual ending for young adult fiction and I'm not sure it works. Many dystopian novels end a bit sadly, if they are being honest to how life really works (or how a dystopian world would actually work). The Hunger Games series is one example of this. But the Divergent series ends on a different kind of sad note than we are used to. For the book, it works well enough and makes sense. The author does handle it in a careful manner. But it wasn't what I wanted and hoped for. It didn't satisfy me on the level I'm at when I read a book, that escapist level that honestly doesn't want the book to end just like the real world does.

Though I'm impressed by Veronica Roth's insight and depth, Allegiant just didn't resonate with me as much as her first book did. I can give it only three stars. But if you want to get in on the action, that first story is well worth it and is in process of becoming a movie, which I am very excited to see.