Comfort

September 12, 2011
The nature of comfort—in its physical, emotional, and spiritual forms—drives this considered study from Paulist priest Hoover. With sections titled “Blessed Are the Poor but I Wouldn’t Want to Be One,” and “Of Death and Pasta,” Hoover, a self-declared “Catholic geek,” strikes a balance between serious and funny that is appropriate for his subject and immensely readable. Drawing on pop culture, multiculturalism, and his work as a priest, the author provides a nuanced classification of creature comforts and religious consolation while pondering the necessity and risks inherent in each. While many of the personal stories relate to Catholicism, Hoover’s sincerity makes for a work that readers of any faith can take something from. A minor drawback is the amount of statistical information included. Topics like domestic ease, suburban living, and electronic isolation, while certainly worth a mention, fill too many pages. This volume is recommended not for its sociology but because Hoover authentically addresses the prospect of lasting peace without giving up his banana split.

October 15, 2011
A Paulist priest examines physical, emotional and spiritual comfort. Hoover (Pastoral Studies/Loyola Univ.; Soundbyte Spirituality, 2002, etc.) opens the final chapter of this book-length homily with the admission that "this journey into comfort turned out differently than I expected." He had planned to pile up stories demonstrating a contemporary "comfort gap," in which "affluent cushiness" produces indifference toward the world's have-nots, but he found the evidence more nuanced. The result is a comprehensive survey of the pursuit of comfort in all spheres—at home, work and play, alone and with others, around the nation and abroad, ancient and modern. In different hands, this well-written account might have turned pedantic, but Hoover is unfailingly generous and never pious. Sub-chapter headings like "Shit and Angels Happen" and "Psycho-God" will delight or disappoint different readers. Some may find his reliance on personal anecdote a tad heavy, but the widely traveled Hoover draws liberally from diverse acquaintances and experiences and balances these musings with evidence from anthropology, sociology, psychology, history, literature and every major religion. Sources range from scripture to Mark Twain, scientific journals to Mae West and the U.S. Census Bureau to Malcolm X. Lurking always in the background is comfort's shadow, discomfort. Hoover uses a light touch to make his points about the dangers of too much comfort and too little challenge. An interesting—and yes, comfortable—read, but fundamentalists of all stripes and those who cannot sit still for a long sermon may want to pass.

(COPYRIGHT (2011) KIRKUS REVIEWS/NIELSEN BUSINESS MEDIA, INC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.)

July 1, 2011

Hoover (Inst. for Pastoral Studies, Loyola Univ.), a member of the order of Paulist Fathers and cofounder and editor of bustedhalo.com, a website for young adults, here engages an antique concept in Christian spirituality. "Comfort," as a goal or experience in Christian life, is a rather 19th-century idea; in our day, we have tended to emphasize spiritual combat and triumph. With wit and warmth, Hoover asserts that physical and spiritual comfort are legitimate needs and are in fact sources of renewed strength. VERDICT Hoover's distinctive and well-written book should appeal broadly to American Christians, Catholic and non-Catholic alike.

Copyright 2011 Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.

October 1, 2011
We begin our lives, Hoover points out, in the comfort of the womb, where everything we need is provided for us. And, to a certain extent, we spend the rest of our lives seeking comfort. Drawing on his own experiences and those of others, Hoover explores the notion of comfort from a variety of angles: comfort food, creature comforts, the rise of comfort as a lifestyle (which roughly coincided with the rise of technologies such as running water and indoor heating), the idea of intellectual comfort, and the seemingly paradoxical idea that comfort can be a restraint on us (because, in seeking comfort, we may turn away from challenge). He also explores the cultural relativity of comfort, the idea that different societies place different values on some comfort: some cultures derive comfort from being paid attention to (say, in a hospital setting) whereas others derive it from being left alone. Comfort is one of those concepts that has far more depth and variety than we realize; thankfully, there's this insightful, engaging book to set us straight.(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2011, American Library Association.)