Mister God, This is Anna

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There is some uncertainty about Fynn's age on first encountering Anna. Early editions of the book say he was nineteen, but this would be impossible if he was to know Anna for three years before the outbreak of war, and in the latest editions of Mister God, This Is Anna his age has been amended to sixteen. [10] Sources [ edit ] No,” she went on, “no, he don’t love me, not like you do, its different, its millions of times bigger.” Searching the phrase "Mister God, This is Anna", I found: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mister_G... but best of all this link: http://www.finchden.com/sgh/index.htm My skepticism was satisfied and I was able to read the remainder of the book with a more open mind. I could see this was going to be one of those times, but thank goodness she didn’t expect an answer to her question, for she hurried on: “Them pollywogs, I could love them till I bust, but they wouldn’t know, would they? I’m million times bigger than they are and Mister God is million times bigger than me, so how do I know what Mister God does?”

Even the dirt and the stars and the animals and the people and the trees and everything, and the pollywogs?” The pollywogs were those little creatures we had seen under the microscope. Well then,” she continued, “if we don’t know many things about Mister God, how do we know he loves us?” I must have made some movement or noise, for she levered herself upright and sat on her haunches and giggled. The she launched herself at me and undid my little pang of hurt, cut from the useless spark of jealousy with the delicate sureness of a surgeon. Although the prose is relatively simple and somewhat coarse in some parts of the book and Anna's explanations are rough and terse even to the point of being abtruse, it just goes to show you that not all beauty is created by skilled and stylish techniques of trained artists and not all truth lies in fanciful and coherent arguments. Just as Jesus lied in the manger and Buddah among the ragged, sometimes the most beautiful poetry and the deepest, truest philosophy is 'in the middle' of a field of wildflowers, a child's indecipherable scribble or the silent smile of the common prostitute. In fact, this book eventually goes to demonstrate that when you're 'full' inside, you don't need to fret about what's outside or peripheral, you can concentrate on what's 'in the middle' and being 'what I am' and Mister God. of God. It isn't the devil in humanity that makes man a lonely creature, it's his God-likeness. It's the fullness of the Good that can't get out or can't find its proper "other place" that makes for loneliness.Anna's misery was for others. They just could not see the beauty of that broken iron stump, the colors, the crystalline shapes; they could not see the possibilities there. Anna wanted them to join with her in this exciting new world , but they could not imagine themselves to be so small that this jagged fracture

I was sufficiently troubled about all this to execute some google searching. Searching the word "Fynn", I found: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mister_G... Then you know Mister God in my middle in your middle, and everything you know,every person you know, you know in your middle. Every person and everything that Aside from any spiritual implications, I remember the book’s emphasis on thinking for oneself, which I have tried latterly to hang on to, even at the risk of sounding like an idiot, or – more usually – proving myself one. As children, we thrive by thinking for ourselves. As adults, we’re cursed with sophistication. We recycle ideas, parade breadth of learning, are paralysed by the thought of being wrong. We call this sophistication cultural capital, which seems to me a good term because it is a currency: a system of value rather than the thing of value.

Oh,” she said. “well then, why does he let things get hurt and dead?” Her voice sounded as if she felt she had betrayed a sacred trust, but the question had been thought and it had to be spoken. Anna is involved with everything. The gist of the book is the philosophy of a child who has the wisdom to comprehend more than what would be expected of her. could become a world of iron mountains, of iron plains with crystal trees.It was a new world to explore, a world of the imagination, a world where few people would or could follow her. In this broken-off stump was a whole new realm of possibilities to be explored and to be enjoyed.

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One of the things about Anna is the incredible relationship she had with 'Mister God'. Not some distant childhood vision of a god sitting on a throne up in the clouds, but in her wonderful matter of fact way she just really knew 'Mister God'. And her insights were just incredible. And as you read you find yourself, along with Fynn, learning so much. Anna's mirror book, her understanding that you can do billions of sums when you start with the answer, the way she could see everyday objects in a way which reflected her understanding of 'Mister God' are just some of the amazing aspects of Anna. This is a short book I want everyone to read, though there are some who will find it too simple to enjoy. I loved Anna and her many ideas. One of my favorites is when Anna realized she knew the answer to a squillion (the biggest number Anna could think of) questions. Just when Fynn thinks he is going to set her right, she proves she is already right: How much is 4 take away 1? How much is 2 plus 1? How much is 5 take away 2? By now you must have figured out we could go on all day with this line of reasoning. Indeed, Anna taught Fynn that it is the questions that are truly important. Even beyond that, it is the circumstance of the question that is important. Saying yes to the offer of a drink of water may be drastically different depending on if you are three days into the desert or just newly arrived at the restaurant. Anna treats Fynn with her special philosophy of church, God, sex, and numbers. The reader is taken along for this wonderful ride. Anna dies before she even reaches her eighth birthday and yet at the end of the book I put it down with a sense of feeling full, of wonder and of gratitude for the life she lived and the impact she made. "Anna's life hadn't been cut short, far from it, it had been full, completely fulfilled"

This is, by far, the most boring book I have read this year, and that's including the one book I DNFed.

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In his preface to both the British and American editions of the book, Vernon Sproxton remarks that he has seen Anna's drawings and notes and that he believes her to be real. Fynn, Mister God doesn’t love us.” She hesitated. “He doesn’t really, you know, only people can love. I love Bossy, but Bossy don’t love me. I love the pollywogs, but they don’t love me. I love you Fynn, and you love me, don’t you?” At five years Anna knew absolutely the purpose of being, knew the meaning of love and was a personal friend and helper of Mister God. At six Anna was a theologian, mathematician, philosopher, poet and gardener. If you asked her a question you would always get an answer – in due course. On some occasions the answer would be delayed for weeks or months; but eventually, in her own good time, the answer would come: direct, simple and much to the point." [3] This is by no means a sentimental, trite, or simple story, as the title might suggest to today's reader. In fact, I intend to re-read parts of it and add reference notes in my copy of the book. As a whole it is beyond amazing. It is astounding. A book I loved, loved, loved when I first read it in the late 1970's. It is one of those books that stays with you for decades. .