Archive for the 'Book reviewing' Category

Book Review of The Last Hustle, by Kenny Johnson

November 4, 2011

The Last Hustle, by Kenny Johnson, as told to Shanti Einolander

As Real As It Gets

by Jerry Katz

Most books in the genre of spiritual awakening focus on the claims of the awakened state: “There is only consciousness (or God, love, awareness),” and so on. They invite the reader to see things as they are, not as they appear to be.

Sometimes an awakened author will speak about life before awakening, but not so often since it is seen as less than enlightened to appear as though attached to memories.

Rarely will the author reveal the shadow side that lurks after awakening: the unpretty impulses that continue to stir and surface.

However, Kenny Johnson tells it all. The Last Hustle is about life before awakening, awakening itself, and life after awakening. What is most valuable about this book is the distinction between the perception of things before awakening and that perception after.

Life before awakening was a loveless childhood, thieving, pimping, violence and years in prisons. With a firm grip on your arm he takes you into the bowels of places you would rather not go. But the grip is purposeful and you know where this journey is going.

His awakening itself was, like all awakenings, unique. It was prepared by remembered things spoken to him by his mother and aunt. It was developed by exposure in prisons to meditation, Yoga, Buddhism, the Black Israelites, and various conscious and intelligent men including a caring guard. It culminated in a connection with Gangaji and it — the awakening — happened when she visited his prison.

Life afterward was radically different:

“It is really humbling to come from the streets as one who brought destruction to everyone he met and now to find myself trying to bring as much love as possible to all whom I meet.”

“Just as I had come from the lineage of Iceberg Slim, The Magnificent Seven, Fillmore Slim, Minnesota Bob, and Sly Ryan, now I was in the lineage of Ramana, Papaji, and Gangaji.”

Though he would never return to crime after his final release from prison in 1997, Johnson still had to face episodes of anger, alcoholism, drug abuse, and their roots in poor self-esteem. He clearly shows that life after awakening includes directly looking at these arisings. Nor have shadow issues ceased in his life. He writes:

“I don’t know what a final awakening will mean for me, but I do know that Kenny Johnson is a far better and more content human being whose greatest desire now is to serve that awakening. He is no longer hustling and thieving, beating on women or giving the judicial system hell. He gets up each day and makes an intention to live a life of peace as best as he can and to try to guide others to do the same. Yet he’s also mindful and respectful that any moment he could re-experience all of the old anger, sadness, mistrust, delusion, and denial of the truth of his being.”

Often painful, often loving and spacious, The Last Hustle chronicles a full life and transmits a palpable sense that love is here and now and that it demands you face your life here and now. The Last Hustle is as real as spiritual books get.

Kenny Johnson has returned to prisons as an educator and spiritual guide through his organization This Sacred Space. His journey is highly worth experiencing.

The Last Hustle, by Kenny Johnson, as told to Shanti Einolander

Why I Rate Every Book Review 5 Stars

March 29, 2010

Mark S. Mandell says:

Isn’t there any flaw or weakness you ever come across in your review of the available non dual literature out there, Jerry? This isn’t meant to criticize but I find it interesting that you never post less than the maximum star ratings of every non dual book you review.

Jerry Katz says:

I give your comment 4 stars. But seriously, there are two reasons why I give 5 stars. First, I don’t like rating things, so I give them all five stars. I don’t like reducing nonduality books to a number of stars.

Second, for me, each book stands on its own and gets five stars.

However, my reviews often critique, disagree, and qualify. You just have to read them.

I try to convey the texture of a book so that the reader can sense whether they’d like to read it. For example, in my review of The Most Direct and Rapid Means to Eternal Bliss I made very clear that this an intense, focused, precise, almost fundamentalist book. I wrote:

By virtue of its intensity, commitment, declarations of greatness, and specificity and concentration of instruction, this book is scriptural in nature.

No number of stars communicates what I have included in the review:

Michael even places scriptural values on the book: “This book is a new doorway for humanity.” “There are more than fourteen hundred sentences in this book. Those sentences describe a very precise formula. If the formula is changed, the formula will usually no longer be effective.”

I feel that by such description, the reader of the review can sense whether this book would be worth reading.

How can I rate a book? In comparison to what I like? In comparison to what I believe is the right nondual approach? In comparison to the way some famous sage speaks?

It’s not up to me to tell a reader that this book is five, four, three stars. It’s not up to me to give my personal tastes (although sometimes I do.) It’s up to me to communicate what a person is getting into if they buy the book.

Book review: Pass the Jelly: Tales of Ordinary Enlightenment, by Gary Crowley

November 20, 2009



An Assortment of Unforgettable Teachers

A review of Pass the Jelly: Tales of Ordinary Enlighenment, by Gary Crowley

by Jerry Katz

A long chain of cause and effect had led to my being where I was, and while this is true for everyone all the time, I knew it wasn’t personal. It never is. And knowing this allowed me to soak in the entire spectacle.

Those opening lines lead the reader to meetings with an assortment of lovable, laughable, absurd, and wise characters from Gary Crowley’s life. Gary finds a spiritual teaching with each person he introduces. Each story is injected with and wrapped in humor.

This book is character driven. Who is the main character? Perhaps whoever you fall in love with the most. It might be Little Joe, a little person whose teaching I won’t reveal but involves a stick:

All the kids loved Little Joe. He would walk down the street, and the moms would call out to their kids, “Little Joe is walking by.” … There are some memories in life that seem to summarize the best of times; my memories of sprinting out of the house to say “Hi, Little Joe!” are just those. … I got the gist of what [Little Joe] was saying. “The stick” might have been my very first esoteric teaching on life.

Maybe it will be Not Jim, the taciturn tow truck driver, “a modern-day wrangler out rescuing humanity’s strays on their daily cattle drive to and from work”

Or Raw Boy, the health food store employee engaged by Gary in conversation:

“Oh, I’m completely addicted. I’m a self-confessed Javacrucian. Every morning when I take my first sip of coffee, I say out loud, ‘God, that’s good.’ ”
“Coffee is the most anti-spiritual drink on the planet,” [Raw Boy] challenged.

Shady Grady is one of several adults met by Gary as a lone boy or teen. As a lost five year old on a densely crowded beach, Shady Grady shows up in Gary’s life as another version of Not Jim. Once the lost five year old is re-united with his parents, Shady Grady becomes the teacher:

“Do you want to see how G.I. Joe would find his blanket at the beach?” he asked.
I gave an affirmative nod.
“Come with me,” he said as we headed down to the water’s edge.
We arrived on the wet sand and turned to face all the beach goers on their blankets.
“Can you see how all the life guard chairs look alike?” Shady asked.
“Yes.”
“Well, you can’t use only the lifeguard chairs to find your parents when you get lost, because they all look the same. Do you understand?”
I nodded.
“But if you stand right in front of your lifeguard chair,” he instructed, “you can see that big flag in the parking lot right over the lifeguard’s head. Now let’s walk to the next one.”
When we were directly in front of the next lifeguard chair, Shady’s voice got a bit more serious.

You’ll have to read the book to see how these characters develop, what they teach, and how their teaching fits into the flow of the work.

My favorite might be the taxidermist, Mr. Gooch, whose heart and wisdom go deep. Eight year old Gary goes to Mr. Gooch’s house:

Mr. Gooch picked up that I had come all the way to his home for a reason and seemed to take me quite seriously. He listened very carefully to what I had witnessed with the fox at the reservoir. (I left out the information about Big Foot. That was strictly on a need-to-know basis.) Ben was busy examining the stuffed pheasant in the window and a large-mouth bass hanging on the wall. Mr. Gooch listened patiently to all the details of my story and allowed a long pause to make sure I had finished the telling of my tale.

The driving character of the book is Gary’s Dad. Well before you’ve come to the end of this book, the two words “Gary’s dad” will bring you to laughter and affection, and maybe tears, at once. Gary’s dad is the source of substantive moments:

Each morning when my dad read the newspaper, I would hear him exclaim, “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” or “How could someone do that?” A simple groan of “What?” was also common, but my personal favorite was the occasional, “Unbelievable.” “Unbelievable” was usually blurted out in regard to some politician going back on a campaign promise, a union boss caught getting kickbacks, or some similarly outrageous claim like “gravity will be present again today.”
My dad kept most of his distress about the world between himself and the newspaper. When it was time to go to work, he declared a temporary truce with reality and went on with his day. I, however, had witnessed Dad’s morning routine far too often by the time I was twelve for it to be ignored any longer. It was then that I decided to begin my lifelong journey as a master of the obvious.

Gary and his unforgettable characters say a lot about the way things are and about how to live life effectively. You never feel you are being lectured, however. The characters, not the teachings, take the front seat. That makes Pass the Jelly an important contribution to the spirituality genre. Profound spiritual teachings are rarely this easy and this much fun to get, understand, remember, and apply.

The one topic Gary never talks about is the one thing this book is all about: love. You feel it on every page, in every paragraph. I loved this book.

Pass the Jelly: Tales of Ordinary Enlighenment, by Gary Crowley

Read an excerpt from Pass the Jelly.

How to write a book review

March 15, 2008

You don’t buy clothes for yourself alone. You need to occupy certain spaces in your society, so you buy the clothes you wear … for others.

Books are never read for yourself. They are always read for others. You always wear at least a thread or two of a book. You carry it with you, for better or worse.

For those who write book reviews, it is obvious that you read books for others. This is the first awareness of book reviewing: you are reading for others. The “others” may read the book or may not. Your review is not a substitute for reading a book. Your review is a way of bringing a quality of awareness to a book.

The second awareness of book reviewing is that there are several ways to write a review.

Here are links on how to write a book review:

Book Reviewing

How To Write a Decent Book Review

How to Write a Book Review (Dalhousie University)

How to Write a Book Review (Los Angeles Valley College)

Be sure to read excellent book reviews, such as those published in the New York Times Books section.

Publish your reviews on Amazon.com and the sites of other online bookstores. Send them to magazines and your local newspaper. Create a blog for your book reviews.

Once you realize that you never read a book for yourself alone, writing a book review may be the most obvious thing to do.

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