D. W. Pasulka

1 Comment December 31, 2020 Steve Wiggins

As has become traditional on this blog, I like to revisit my reading for the year before the next one begins. No matter what else goes wrong, we have books. As I noted yesterday, I’ll be devising my own reading challenge for the coming year and if nothing else, it’ll be diverse. For 2020, according to Goodreads, I finished 78 books. Since I was in the final stages of getting Nightmares with the Bible to the publisher, several books early on were about demons, and many of them were quite good. The nonfiction that really stick out in my mind, however, includes D. W. Pasulka’s American Cosmic, Richard King’s Ahab’s Rolling Sea, Gary D. Rhodes’ The Birth of the American Horror Film, Jeffrey J. Kripal’s Secret Body, Barbara Ehrenreich’s Living with a Wild God, and Ernestine Hayes’ The Tao of Raven. If anything ties these books together it is likely their honesty when it comes to the spiritual quest. It can legitimately take many directions.

Fiction has, at least for much of the year, been driven by a few factors: books I have on hand during a pandemic, The Modern Mrs. Darcy’s reading challenge, and books on my reading wishlist. That list is constantly growing and the books that stand out particularly are again diverse. Especially memorable were Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man, Hank Green’s An Absolutely Remarkable Thing, Han Kang’s The Vegetarian, Scott Shibuya Brown’s The Traders, Andrew Michael Hurley’s The Loney, and Silvia Moreno-Garcia’s Mexican Gothic. Apart from their diversity these books have little in common. I suppose that’s a testament to the importance of reading widely. On that list there are only two “white” men but a lot of great books.

Another couple of categories might apply: big books and short story collections. Big books intimidate me, but I read five of over 500 pages: Ellison’s Invisible Man again, Herman Melville’s Moby-Dick, Mark Twain’s The Innocents Abroad, George Eliot’s Middlemarch (my longest book for the year), and Ann Radcliffe’s The Mysteries of Udolpho. These books are all in the “classics” category, I see. Short story collections are more edible, and I read nine of them, including four “by” Rod Serling. The first was an edited collection of his works, and the other three were his own Twilight Zone adaptations. I read a few plague books because of the pandemic, but they weren’t really among my favorites. Perhaps they were a little too close to reality. Nevertheless 2020 was a good year of reading, overall. I’m looking ahead to what gems 2021 might hold.

1 Comment April 27, 2020 Steve Wiggins

There are books that make you feel as if everything you know is uncertain. D. W. Pasulka’s American Cosmic is such a book. Its subtitle, UFOs, Religion, Technology, only pauses at the brink of the rabbit hole down which this study will take you. Over the years I admit to having been jealous of colleagues who’ve been able to make an academic career stick. The credentials of a university post open doors for you, even if you’re a professor of religion. Pasulka has opened some doors here that I suspect many would prefer to have kept closed. This is a compelling book, threading together many themes tied to religious studies. There are things we might see, if only we’ll open our eyes.

Although immediately and automatically subjected to the ridicule response, UFOs are a fascinating subject. This book isn’t about UFO religions—of which there are many—but rather it connects this phenomenon to the study of religion itself. In Pasulka’s related field of Catholic studies, there are those anomalous accounts of saints who did the impossible. Like UFOs, they are subjected to the ridicule response, making serious discussion of them difficult. Might the two be related? As you feel yourself spinning deeper and deeper down that hole, technology comes into the picture and complicates it even further. Pasulka was a consultant on The Conjuring. I’ve written about the movie myself, but what I hadn’t realized is how media connects with perceptions of reality. Yes, it has a religious freight too.

Every once in a while I reflect that my decision—if it was a decision; sometimes I feel certain my field chose me—to study religion might not have been misplaced. Perhaps all of this does tie together in some way. American Cosmic is a mind-expanding book that assures me all those years and dollars learning about religion weren’t wasted after all. I had a discussion recently with another doctoral holder who’s been relegated to the role of editor. We both lamented that our training was in some sense being wasted on a job that hardly requires this level of training. Still, if it weren’t for my day job I probably wouldn’t have known about this book, and that is perhaps a synchronicity as well. Life is a puzzle with many thousands—millions—of pieces. Some books are like finding a match, but others are like informing you that you’ve got the wrong box top in hand as you try to construct the puzzle with the pieces you have. If you read this book be prepared to come close to finding the white rabbit.