I’m sick of Flannery O’Connor. I’m also sick of Walker Percy, G. K. Chesterton, J. R. R. Tolkien, C. S. Lewis, T. S. Eliot, Gerard Manley Hopkins, and Dostoevsky. Actually, I’m sick of hearing about them from religiously minded readers. These tend to be the only authors that come up when I ask them what they read for literature.

So says Randy Boyagoda here. I know exactly how he feels (though I can’t imagine I’ll ever grow tired of Eliot, Hopkins or Dostoyevsky). But Artur Rosman thinks he’s wrong to argue that all the great religions novelists are dead, and he has some interesting recommendations to make. (Yes, I know these posts are from two years ago, but I’ve been out of the loop, and sometimes I’m slow to catch up with these things.)