"Calming The Raging Storm" is a hard-hitting, no-nonsense assault on the problem of human suffering. It doesn't try to explain pain away, or urge the reader to "grin and bear it." It recognizes suffering for what it fundamentally is: evil. This book is written for those struggling with pain and misfortune, those at the raw limits of endurance, those at the bottom of the pit with no apparent way out. Instead of burying the reader under an avalanche of platitudes, or demonstrating that suffering has some sublime purpose, "Calming the Raging Storm" comes to the rescue with understanding and compassion. It takes on the personality of a fellow traveler, a friend (seasoned by the same suffering) who joins the afflicted at the bottom of the pit and says, "You're right. Suffering is cruel; it shouldn't be happening to you But let's see what we can do about it." The book is written in a warm, conversational style, posing as many questions as answers. To put human suffering in its proper perspective the book begins with an interesting observation. The average human life consists of approximately 400,000 waking hours. How many of them are happy, how many sad, how many pleasant, how many painful? Most people think that the happy times far outnumber the sad. If so, why do people so quickly forget the blessings and focus on the curses? "Calming the Raging Storm" follows up with another question. "Of the 100 billion humans who anthropologists say have already lived and passed out of this world, how many enjoyed lives without the slightest suffering and pain? None of them, right? If so, why did they and why do more than six billion people now living on this earth dream that there must be such a perfect life? Why is it that people are never satisfied with what they know, craving more and more knowledge, almost fretful that they've been cheated out of something? Why are the rich and powerful never really happy? Why is one million or a hundred million of anything never enough? Why are the castles and villas and mansions and penthouses and Mediterranean yachts filled with people who "have it all" but sigh, "Not enough." How can the playboys and playgirls gorge themselves on every conceivable form of wealth and bodily pleasure, and still moan (with Peggy Lee), "Is that all there is? Is that all there is?" Why are there so many suicides among those who have so much?" The author, David Barton, then analyzes society's futile yearning for the perfect life. Mankind, he says, has always claimed happiness as an unconditional right, and rebelled against misery (even against joys that are "not enough") as a violent assault on that right. Embedded in each human heart is the conviction that there was a time, deep in the past, when such an ideal life actually existed. Philosophers and anthropologists struggle with the possibility of a "golden age," an age which somehow evaporated, so long ago that humans can't remember that it happened. Poets talk of angelic ancestors falling from great heights, into the present world of "not enough." Whatever the philosophers and poets say about ages past, the book concludes, people now living out their lives in the world have surrendered to a type of cynical pragmatism. Yes, something's wrong. Yes, they've been cheated out of Utopia. Yes, life is cruel, but life is life, life is reality, and only fools refuse to come to grips with it. Like it or not, they say, every human life has its fair share of limitations and pain. As long as the bad times are bearable, humanity can cope. "Into each life," they croon, "some rain must fall." So, humanity copes... But then comes the "Raging Storm." Sooner or later, the book observes, the inevitable happens. Some terrible misfortune strikes, something which turns their lives into unbearable suffering. These are the times when humanity revolts. "It isn't fair," they sigh,
