Welcome

“There are four questions of value in life, Don Octavio. What is sacred? Of what is the spirit made?What is worth living for and what is worth dying for? The answer to each is the same. Only love.”

These words of Lord Byron seem an apt introduction to whatever of my life is represented on these pages and their links to other pages. In essence, the biographical and bibliographic data referenced here do not explain or define my life; they merely give insight into a portion of it—my professional life as a professor, poet, scholar, writer, activist, and humanitarian. They shed very little light on what Wordsworth called, “That best portion of a man’s life, his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and love.” Also, except for my video autobiography, they give little information or insight into those aspects of my life for which I most want to be remembered: my role as husband, father, grandfather, friend and Christian disciple.

The articles, essays, editorials, reviews, blogs, poems, midrash and dramatic writings do reveal my interests in, quest for and celebration of significant thoughts and imaginative expressions of others, both from history and contemporary culture. They also reveal my keen interest in religion and spirituality, especially that having to do with Christianity and my own faith tradition, Mormonism, but, I hope, expansively so. Much of what I write might be considered cultural criticism.

Readers are free to copy and share any of the writings listed on this site. There is a special section called “New Writings” which will include my most recent material. After a time, such material will be shifted to the appropriate list in order to make space for newer pieces. There is also a “Featured” section where individual writings from various categories will be highlighted.

Visitors to this site are welcome to correspond with me either directly at bobrees2@gmail.com

“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practice resignation, unless it was quite necessary.”
—Thoreau, Walden