John focuses on the big ideas that have shaped our world.
His journey is an eclectic one. Starting out as a singer-songwriter, he now works as a writer, speaker, historian of religion (focusing on early Christianity and Judaism), media presenter, Anglican minister, and director of a multi-media think tank.
With an honours degree in theology from Moore Theological College Sydney, and a PhD in history from Macquarie University, John is also an Honorary Fellow of the Department of Ancient History (Macquarie), and teaches a course on the Historical Jesus at the University of Sydney (Department of Hebrew, Biblical and Jewish Studies) .
John is a founding director of the Centre for Public Christianity(CPX), an independent research and media company promoting informed discussion about social, ethical and religious issues in modern life.
His book “The Christ Files: How Historians Know what they Know about Jesus” was made into a four-part documentary which aired nationally on Channel 7 in 2008. Now a best-selling DVD, it also won the 2008 Pilgrim Media award (see www.thechristfiles.com.au). His more recent Life of Jesus also aired on Channel 7 in 2009 (see www.lifeofjesus.tv).
Today I read The Three Coffins by John Dickson Carr.
Michael Dirda's Sunday Washington Post column motivated me. In it, he contemplates reading this novel for a third time.
One suspect encountered by Dr. Fell in the novel is Pettis.
[....] 'Pettis, eh?' repeated Dr Fell, rubbing his chin. 'I wonder if that's the Pettis who collects the ghost stories and writes those excellent prefaces? H'm, yes, I dare say. Now, how would he fit into this?'
Later:
'It's a bad business about Grimaud,' he said, and hesitated. 'Naturally I'll follow the formula of saying I wish to do everything I can to help. In this case it happens to be true.' He smiled again. 'Er - do you want me sitting with my face to the light, or what? Outside novels, this is my first experience with the police.'
'Nonsense,' said Dr Fell, introducing everybody. 'I've been wanting to meet you for some time; we've written a few things on the same lines. What'll you drink? Whisky? Brandy and soda?'
'It's rather early,' said Pettis doubtfully. 'Still, if you insist - thanks! I'm very familiar with your book on the supernatural in English fiction, doctor; you're a great deal more popular than I shall ever be. And it's sound.' He frowned. ' It's very sound. But I don't entirely agree with you (or Dr James) that a ghost in a story should always be malignant ..'
'Of course it should always be malignant. The more, more malignant,' thundered Dr Fell, screwing his own face up into a tolerably hideous leer, 'then the better. I want no sighing of gentle airs round my couch. I want no sweet whispers o'er Eden. I want BLOOD!' He looked at Pettis in a way which seemed to give the latter an uncomfortable idea it was his blood. 'Harrumph. Ha. I will give you rules, sir. The ghost should be malignant. It should never speak. It should never be transparent but solid. It should never hold the stage for long, but appear in brief vivid flashes like the poking of a face round a corner. It should never appear in too much light. It should have an old, an academic or ecclesiastical background; a flavour of cloisters or Latin manuscripts. There is an unfortunate tendency nowadays to sneer at old libraries or ancient ruins, to say that the really horrible phantom would appear in a confectioner's shop or at a lemonade stand. This is what they call applying the "modern test". Very well, apply the test to real life. Now, people in real life honestly have been frightened out of their five wits in old ruins or churchyards. Nobody would deny that. But, until somebody in actual life really does scream out and faint at the sight of something at a lemonade stand (other, of course than that beverage itself), then there is nothing to be said for this theory except that it is rubbish.'
'Some people would say,' observed Pettis, cocking one eyebrows, 'that the old ruins were rubbish. Don't you believe that good ghost stories can be written nowadays?'
'Of course they can be written nowadays, and there are more brilliant people to write 'em - if they would. The point is, they are afraid of the thing called Melodrama. So, if they can't eliminate the melodrama, they try to hide it by writing in such an oblique, upside - down way that nobody under heaven can understand what they are talking about. Instead of saying flat out what the character saw or heard, they try to give Impressions. It's as though a butler, in announcing guests at a ball, were to throw open the drawing - room doors and cry: "Flicker of a top - hat, vacantly seen, or is it my complex fixed on the umbrella stand faintly gleaming?" Now, his employer might not find this satisfactory. He might want to know who in blazes was calling on him. Terror ceases to be terror if it has to be worked out like an algebra problem. It may be deplorable if a man is told a joke on Saturday night and suddenly bursts out laughing in church next morning. But it is much more deplorable if a man reads a terrifying ghost story on Saturday night, and two weeks later suddenly snaps his fingers and realizes that he ought to have been scared. Sir, I say now - '
For some time an irritated superintendent of the C.I.D. had been fuming and clearing his throat in the background. Now Hadley settled matters by slamming his fist down on the table.
'Easy on, will you?' he demanded. 'We don't want to hear any lecture now. And it's Mr Pettis who wants to do the talking. So - ' When he saw Dr Fell's puffings subside into a grin, he went on, smoothly, ' As a matter of fact, it is a Saturday night I want to talk about; last night.'
'And about a ghost?' Pettis inquired, whimsically. Dr Fell's outburst had put him entirely at his ease. 'The ghost who called on poor Grimaud?'