Prose Books

"silent generation", between the "greatest" & the "boomers".
They can relive raising kids, borrowing from your in-laws, sex 50's style, dealing with the 60's etc., all with the wit & wisdom of Erma Bombeck.
This is more like a memoir, probably the last in a series, that rings true sometimes, of course, with exaggeration to humorous effect.
Not much to complain about here. She is a good writer who started small had an understanding, supportive husband & achieved national celebrity.
If you are of a certain age, you will laugh.

I miss Erma. I really do. I miss her style of writing, her humor and her wit. She is probably the only writer from my childhood that I have read faithfully of. Her columns were the highlight of our day when it appeared in our newspapers. Reading this book is like going down memory lane. I remember some of her stuff, but not all of them. This one is a honest and true look at marriage.

Marriage isn't happily ever after. We spend our lives changing our partners, resisting the changes that life throws our way, staying married through thin and fat, through children, through illness and career changes ~~ through death, death of a father and friend. It's a wonderful little book full of wisdom and insights. I love her chapter titles: A House Morally Divided Cannot Stand Each Other or Living on Love.

She offers insights to her own life and marriage oftentimes, poking fun at herself and her family. She is never mean but instead she is inspiring. She makes you think even while laughing at some of the silly things we all do in our own lives. I have not been married as long as she has but already, I see some of the things she has pointed out such as trying to change your husband.

If you're looking for a wonderful book to read ~~ don't miss this one. It's beautifully written and so poignant in some places. Erma writes about life because she has lived it. Her stories are still true today as they were fourteen years ago.

5-11-06

The chronicle of Erma Bombeck's married life, this is a sweet, funny, and realistic view of timeless marriage.

Ms. Bombeck starts on the wedding day, when she and husband Bill were married by a priest who spoke Latin with a Polish accent. She moves on to their children, their multiple homes, a saddening chapter about her tragic miscarriage, the chronicles of her morality arguments with her kids, and finally, her career.

She spent years as a housewife. But Ms. Bombeck's now famous writing started in a local paper, and she warmly describes how emotionally supportive her husband was when her columns became well-known. Touring can't have helped their marriage much, but apparently they both didn't let it hurt it.

She satirizes her own under-par household skills, the weird little quirks that come in with age, nd the glories of growing old together. She doesn't say anything about that last one, but it glows throughout the book.

Bravo, Erma.

This book is full of wit and one liners from a woman who knows family. I myself only have a husband and no kids but her writing is still hilarious to me. It reminds me of things my own mother used to say in her own funny and sacastic way. When she talk about her husband and his "ways" of packing a suitcase or talking about the kids I laughed out loud while reading in bed and scared my husband. I sure do miss her and only wish she could have spent a little more time on earth to make us laugh. I bet God is having a ball with her in heaven.

I have always enjoyed Erma Bombeck when she had a column, but the children were small and I never had much time to read. Had I gotten a book like this one, I could of breezed through raising children and marriage with much less guilt. It is one of the funniest (because it's so true) books I've ever read. I am now a collector of Erma Bombecks books. Chapters titled,; "How Much Happiness Can We Finance?" The book for me was filled with memories from the 50's and 60's, and how it used to be. I found myself laughing outloud and shaking my head at the humor, yet truthfulness, that Erma shares with her readers. I'm getting two more of her books for Christmas, and am getting several others on auction. If you need a laugh, kick out some of those endorphins that need to come out and lighten you up, don't miss Erma Bombeck's, "Marriage Made in Heaven or too Tired for an Affair." It's fantastic!

For those who want to become acquainted with the deepest mysteries of mind and their relationship to behavior, not only sexual, this book is indispensable.

For those who have tried their hand at Deleuze's other works--notably _A Thousand Pleateus_ and _Anti-Oedipus_--the title of my review will completely make sense. In this essay, Deleuze presents an engaging arguement about the development of the Oedipal complex and its relation to masochism. Basically, in the final stage of Freud's Oedipus the son is meant to internalize an identification with the father. In revolt he engages in the masochistic drama--a desperate attempt to re-enter the early stage of identification with the mother. By engaging in Masoch's drama, the woman becomes the subject's mother, and she proceeds to ritualistically beat the father out of the son. After all, dad is the one guilty of forcing the two apart in the first place. But this woman, this actress playing the mother, is certainly not a "sadist"; she herself is a masochist, because masochism has by this point proven to be an entire setting--an entire life--all of the characters, tools, words, rituals and scripted parts involved therein.

Contract, ritual, drama and fear combine to show us complexities of human expressions of violence, care, sexuality and the inter-relation between these three. I do not understand why this book has not recieved as much attention as some of Deleuze's others; its brilliance and accessibility--packaged of course with the eloquent and important _Venus in Furs_--make it well worth your time and money.

this is HOT stuff!!!do yourself a favor and get yer mitts on this one!!!

This refers to the book, Venus in Furs, not the essay by Deleuze. I loved this book. Not because I'm some psycho who enjoys pain, but because it tastefully deals with an issue that is too often either misrepresented as some libertine taboo or dealt with in a clinical way. Instead you have a story that deals with love in a different way than a typical Danielle Steele romance novel or a "boy meets girl," sappy drugstore paperback. And while it deals with passionate cruelty it, unlike books by Sade, captures unbridled desire and an inflamed heart. It is truly a great work of literature, easily comparable to "The Sorrows of Young Werther" by Goethe.
If you like sappy romance stories, buy something else. If you want an intriguing love story full of the passion of life and the strumming of the stings of emotion, read away.

This refers to the book, Venus in Furs, not the essay by Deleuze. I loved this book. Not because I'm some psycho who enjoys pain, but because it tastefully deals with an issue that is too often either misrepresented as some libertine taboo or dealt with in a clinical way. Instead you have a story that deals with love in a different way than a typical Danielle Steele romance novel or a "boy meets girl," sappy drugstore paperback. And while it deals with passionate cruelty it, unlike books by Sade, captures unbridled desire and an inflamed heart. It is truly a great work of literature, easily comparable to "The Sorrows of Young Werther" by Goethe.

If you like sappy romance stories, buy something else. If you want an intriguing love story full of the passion of life and the strumming of the stings of emotion, read away.

In my (very) humble opinion this is Leon Uris' best written book.

The story of Gideon Zadok as he hunches down in the desert with the Israeli Army awaiting attack the book is mostly flashbacks through Gideon's life and his family's history. Utilizing a variety of narrative styles and a mix of narrators to give the reader a full perspective of events as they transpire, Uris also is able to flow from one time frame to the next with mastery and grace.

For me, however, the true gem of this book is the character of Gideon Zadok himself; not the most likeable of people (cheats on his wife, is self-centered unabashedly) but for all of his very obvious faults you cannot help but sympathize and identify with him. I love stories where the main character is unlikable yet through the author the story is constructed in such a way that the reader is pulled into the characters world and forced to walk their path along with them, creating a perfect binary between protqagonist and reader.

Uris, as far as I am concerned, is at his absolute best in this book and it is definately worth catching!!!

Another fantastic human historical drama from Leon Uris Gideon the Writer is struggling to come to terms with a dysfunctional family (made up of a host of colourful characters make it read like a Jewish Dickens) and a difficult marriage to a wife who he takes for granted as well as his own wavering career He gets an assignment to write on Israels struggle to survive at the time of the Sinai War and has a steamy relationship with a sophisticated and powerful Jewish woman -who is a holocaust victim and an important consultant to the Israeli government But the story goes back to that of Gideons family many years before he was born and is exciting,illuminating,sad,humorous and pictureresque

This is perhaps the first book where I read about a character who was made the way Gideon Zadok was. Every hero had to be loved. Hated at least. Mixed emotions never existed in my life then towards a particular character. But Gideon, who blundered his way through fame, marriage and relationships found me loving him to bits one minute and hating him to pieces the next.

One of the best works of Uris, if not for the historical value of the book- for the sheer joy in discovering Gideon Zadok.

As a book, Exodus and Redemption are my favorites, but if I go by characters, I still wouldn't know if I love or hate Gideon Zadok.

Another fantastic historical human historical drama from Leon Uris Gideon the Writer is struggling to come to terms with a dysfunctional family (made up of a host of colourful characters make it read like a Jewish Dickens) and a difficult marriage to a wife who he takes for granted as well as his own wavering career He gets an assignment to write on Israels struggle to survive at the time of the Sinai War and has a steamy relationship with a sophisticated and powerful Jewish woman -who is a holocaust victim and an important consultant to the Israeli government But the story goes back to that of gideons family many years before he was born and is exciting,illuminating,sad,humorous and pictureresque

Mitla Pass is a layered, inspirational tale of love, war(amidst other things) and portrays the main character in a realistic and gritty manner.I first read the book when I was 12 years old and it has remained my favourite novel of all time. Gideon Zadok's struggle is very moving and his remniscing of loved ones helps to emphasise his conflict with himself and those around him. Mitla Pass spans over generations, but contrary to what one might think, you don't lose track.Uris's writing style is exceptional and captures the different settings of the novel beautifully and brings out their individuality.

I became aware of this book while looking for something good to watch on TV and came upon the movie "Mr. and Mrs. Bridge" starring Joanne Woodward and Paul Newman. I watched a bit of the film, then checked the TV guide and found that it was based on the books "Mr. Bridge" and "Mrs. Bridge." The movie looked good, so I immediately turned it off while vowing to get the books then watch the film. "Mrs. Bridge" was written ten years earlier than the "Mr.," so I decided to read it first. Actually, I don't believe it makes any difference which you read first - except, because of the last five anecdotes of the "Mrs. Bridge" book go beyond the ending of the "Mr." book, I might suggest you read him first. The style of both books is the same: a series of mostly short anecdotes strung together to tell the life of these individuals, each from their own perspective. They both love each other and their three children, who love them back, but their lives are so unconnected that they can't express any feelings. Their life stories encompass the same years between the two World Wars, existence in the same upper class home in Kansas City, contain the same experiences, yet which each focuses on in their own book is totally different. "Mrs. Bridge" has 117 anecdotes, the Mr. has 141. Yet, they hardly ever overlap. And even when they do, for example when describing their trip to Europe, they talk about different aspects of this highlight of their life, as if they went on separate trips. Mr. Bridge, when he can break away from his office, is a wonderful parent and husband. He provides all the monetary needs of the family and offers sound, sage, practical advice to each of them. Mrs. Bridge is a super mom. The kids, each different but ones you would be proud to have, find individual success, yet are hampered by their parents' inability to express their emotions. Mr. Bridge is aware of this shortcoming, but is unable to overcome it. Interestingly, though most of his life is spent in his rewarding lawyer practice, he hardly ever mentions any specifics of his long days at the office. He does express sorrow twice in the book, but only to himself. After seeing the cancan performed in Paris, he lies in bed next to his wife and bemoans that "something which rightfully belongs to every man had been denied to him." And later back home and suffering from a sleepless night he concludes, "all that he believed in and had attempted to prove seem meager, all of his life was wasted." Strong stuff. I wanted to shake him, smack him, and tell him no, his life was not wasted. But, judge for yourself. As for me, I'm going to watch the movie.

I read this right on the heals of Mrs. Bridge. What a pair. I couldn't put this book down, either.

Evan S. Connell's "Mr. Bridge" stands, together with its companion novel, "Mrs. Bridge", as one of the outstanding works of Twentieth century American fiction. The two works, taken together, form the brilliantly wrought portrait of an upper middle class marriage in the years preceding and encompassing World War II. Linear in its narrative and meticulously realistic in its style, "Mr. Bridge" tells the story of Walter Bridge, a financially successful, but emotionally stunted, lawyer who lives out his proper married life in the wealthy Mission Hills suburb of Kansas City.

Mr. Bridge recognizes that his life did not begin until he knew his wife, India Bridge. His marriage is, in this sense, important to him. But he cannot articulate his deep feelings for his wife and, ultimately, gives up trying to express any emotion at all. "So the years passed, they had three children and accustomed themselves to a life together, and eventually Mr. Bridge decided that his wife should expect nothing more of him. After all, he was an attorney rather than a poet; he could never pretend to be what he was not."

Cold and emotionally repressed, Mr. Bridge spends all of his time at the office, becoming involved with his family only when necessary to ensure that proper middle class respectability is maintained. He spends his time visiting the bank, scrutinizing his stock certificates and counting his profits. Indeed, he is so focussed on wealth that he surprises his wife and children with stock certificates of Kansas City Power & Light on Christmas morning, only to take the gifts back into his possession so that he can properly manage them.

Manipulative and controlling, Mr. Bridge persuades his reluctant daughter, after she has won a contest, to accept a pony as a prize, even though she would much rather have a bicycle. When the day comes to accept the prize, "Mr. Bridge could not attend the presentation ceremony because he was again spending Saturday at the office." Like his self-centered Christmas present of utility company stock, this prize, too, becomes cheerless for his daughter because of his need to impose his will.

Deeply bigoted, Mr. Bridge cannot tolerate Jews or Blacks very well. When he has an opportunity to take investment advice from an obviously successful Jewish stockbroker, Mr. Bridge, instead, becomes offended by the man's ethnicity and ostensible pretension to be a successful upper middle class man like himself. Reluctantly shaking the man's hand, Mr. Bridge "could hardly restrain a shudder." Resonating with antisemitic feeling, "he withdrew his hand, which came away stickily. He wanted to wash it. His hand felt moist and unhealthy, as if during those few seconds it had become infected." Similarly, when his wife shows him horrifying pictures of a brutal lynching in the South, his only reaction is to ask, "what was this fellow doing that he shouldn't have been doing?"

A fiercely conservative man, with political views as deeply repressive as his stunted emotions, he cannot tolerate President Roosevelt. He even suggests that while Hitler was insane, "some of his ideas were sensible."

Indeed, the repressed feelings of Mr. Bridge find their darkest allusions in his feelings about his daughters, feelings that suggest powerful undercurrents of the sexuality that is absent from his marriage. Seeing his grown daughter, Carolyn, one night posing naked in front of a mirror, he cannot get her out of his mind. "He reminded himself that she was his daughter, but the luminous image returned like the memory of a dream."

"Mr. Bridge", like its companion novel, "Mrs. Bridge", is a stunning work of realism, a crystalline pure narrative of a marriage without feeling, a life without love, a man without the ability to move outside the bounds of middle class probity and respectability.

Evan S. Connell's "Mr. Bridge" stands, together with its companion novel, "Mrs. Bridge", as one of the outstanding works of Twentieth century American fiction. The two works, taken together, form the brilliantly wrought portrait of an upper middle class marriage in the years preceding and encompassing World War II. Linear in its narrative and meticulously realistic in its style, "Mr. Bridge" tells the story of Walter Bridge, a financially successful, but emotionally stunted, lawyer who lives out his proper married life in the wealthy Mission Hills suburb of Kansas City.

Mr. Bridge recognizes that his life did not begin until he knew his wife, India Bridge. His marriage is, in this sense, important to him. But he cannot articulate his deep feelings for his wife and, ultimately, gives up trying to express any emotion at all. "So the years passed, they had three children and accustomed themselves to a life together, and eventually Mr. Bridge decided that his wife should expect nothing more of him. After all, he was an attorney rather than a poet; he could never pretend to be what he was not."

Cold and emotionally repressed, Mr. Bridge spends all of his time at the office, becoming involved with his family only when necessary to ensure that proper middle class respectability is maintained. He spends his time visiting the bank, scrutinizing his stock certificates and counting his profits. Indeed, he is so focussed on wealth that he surprises his wife and children with stock certificates of Kansas City Power & Light on Christmas morning, only to take the gifts back into his possession so that he can properly manage them.

Manipulative and controlling, Mr. Bridge persuades his reluctant daughter, after she has won a contest, to accept a pony as a prize, even though she would much rather have a bicycle. When the day comes to accept the prize, "Mr. Bridge could not attend the presentation ceremony because he was again spending Saturday at the office." Like his self-centered Christmas present of utility company stock, this prize, too, becomes cheerless for his daughter because of his need to impose his will.

Deeply bigoted, Mr. Bridge cannot tolerate Jews or Blacks very well. When he has an opportunity to take investment advice from an obviously successful Jewish stockbroker, Mr. Bridge, instead, becomes offended by the man's ethnicity and ostensible pretension to be a successful upper middle class man like himself. Reluctantly shaking the man's hand, Mr. Bridge "could hardly restrain a shudder." Resonating with antisemitic feeling, "he withdrew his hand, which came away stickily. He wanted to wash it. His hand felt moist and unhealthy, as if during those few seconds it had become infected." Similarly, when his wife shows him horrifying pictures of a brutal lynching in the South, his only reaction is to ask, "what was this fellow doing that he shouldn't have been doing?"

A fiercely conservative man, with political views as deeply repressive as his stunted emotions, he cannot tolerate President Roosevelt. He even suggests that while Hitler was insane, "some of his ideas were sensible."

Indeed, the repressed feelings of Mr. Bridge find their darkest allusions in his feelings about his daughters, feelings that suggest powerful undercurrents of the sexuality that is absent from his marriage. Seeing his grown daughter, Carolyn, one night posing naked in front of a mirror, he cannot get her out of his mind. "He reminded himself that she was his daughter, but the luminous image returned like the memory of a dream."

"Mr. Bridge", like its companion novel, "Mrs. Bridge", is a stunning work of realism, a crystalline pure narrative of a marriage without feeling, a life without love, a man without the ability to move outside the bounds of middle class probity and respectability.

simply one of the best books I've ever read. India will exasperate you and enlighten you. Through her and the other characters in Connell's masterpiece, you will have a feeling that your own life is unfolding before your eyes, complete with a beginning, a middle, and an end. It is simultaneously a disturbing and reassuring experience. Don't miss it.

Already being a fan of Ito's work through titles such as Gyo & Uzumaki, I'd heard about the infamous Tomie manga he'd created. I have to admit that my expectations were high since not only was Ito's other works so great, but this was a character who spawned countless movie adaptations of the work. I was not dissapointed.

Much like the men that Tomie & her progeny lure in, the reader is drawn into the rich storytelling & artwork in this volume. Comprising solely of the first half of the Tomie manga, this volume does a very good job of displaying not only the character of Tomie, but also drawing all of the stories together. What I found interesting was that even as I saw Tomie as a villain, at times you couldn't help but feel sorry for a girl who was so beautiful that her lovers would eventually end up killing her. Even when she reforms herself, she is eventually doomed to die at the hands of one who loves her. It's an interesting scenario, basing a story such as this around an ultimately spoiled young lady who keeps dying & being reborn from any pieces of her that remain. Can the reader truly despise her? After all, even the ones of us that have the nicest personalities would eventually begin to sour to the idea of all humanity.

Would I recommend this to a friend? Most definately. Not only if Junji Ito one of the greatest manga authors around, but this is by far the best work he's ever put out.

I love the Tomie movies and i'm a huge fan of her! So, when I found this I was alittle skeptacle. I'm not a fan of manga, I haven't tried it before. I thought it was stupid reading a book full of comics, but haha that's defiantly different now. I loved reading this book! Tomie was great, and there are about 9 different stories. I loved them all, and I'm looking forward to buying the other Tomie Books also.

Tomie is the object of everyone's desires. Obsession would find her attractive, and desire would covet her hand. The problem with Tomie is that she's not only beautiful but she's also cruel, becoming the proverbial barb that claws at the skin of every one of this flower's bearers. Not able to part with - or even share - her, the men (and sometimes women) in Tomie's life are drawn not only into love but also into a cycle that hopes to possess her - even to the point of killing her and not really understanding why. Sometimes this leads to some really gruesome points, with some people not only dismembering her but also grinding her to pulp or becoming stagehands in even more novel acts of morbidity. The thing about that is that Tomie doesn't really take to being dead long - killing her only gives rise to more Tomies and they are never happy with each other or the offending party involved.

If you've never seen the work that Ito does, he is masterful with horror scripts and illustrates with a macabre sense of delight as shadow and depth crawl through a world of both light and dark and make something - beautiful. Few really seem to do black and white well but Ito excels at it, putting together a portrait of strange happenstance that are sometimes amazingly bleak and sometimes just amazing. I've been a fan of his work for a while now, really enjoying the three Uzumaki books he did, and I thought that I'd actually seen everything he had to offer when The Museum of Horror bombshells went off by me.
I was stunned, to say the least.

For anyone that read the older English collections of Tomie (myself included), you only found yourself reading partial variations of a much larger story. Ito himself attempts to explain this in the back of the 1st new book, saying that the old books had been put together by grouping what the Tomie stories were about more than when they came out. This led to many a confabulated look and many an incomplete piece of work, with stories not meeting in sequential order and whole panels missing. The variety of mistakes was huge, too, and might have been somewhat funny if not for the fact that, along with the missing pieces, there were also missing stories.
When I say missing stories I mean a missing volume; when you take the 1st collection of books and hold it to the new editions you can tell that both of the original Tomie books could fit into the first book. So, the Museum of Horror books are good buys.

The 1st book is basically a sequential volume that tells tale after tale of Tomie, beginning with a really twisted story and ending with some rather twisted means. The tales included in this volume are: Tomie, Tomie Vol. 2, Basement, Photo, Kiss, Mansion, Revenge, Waterfall Basin, and Painter.
While many of these connect outright, some connect in more subtle fashions and follow characters that are, for a lack of better wording, caught in the web that is Tomie. Of these stories I found myself really liking the beginning and perhaps Kiss the most, but really just enjoying the read all the way through. I also liked the fact that this was linear as a concept this time around, giving the reader what Ito was thinking as he was thinking it. That explained a lot - and disturbed a little more.

For people who enjoy stories with twisted spines, horror that could pass both as Pulp and as terror, and works that are different in a way and beautiful in black and white then this is something for you. The first two books, all Tomie, paint a picture of something that would be, in a word, quite terrible.
With the new work almost making these new stories, they are really worth the buy.

One has to wonder after reading anything created by the brilliant mind of Junji Ito just how stable that mind really is. Having been turned on to his work first through his Uzumaki series (which by the way is a fully engrossing and rewarding read) I was only too happy to by chance stumble into this, the first book in Dark Horse's Museum of Terror series.

Within these pages lurks the story of Tomie, a high school aged girl whose striking beauty is only matched by her vanity and lust for attention. The horror begins after Tomie is brutally murdered and dismembered when, only a few short days later, she suddenly reappears at school acting as though nothing had happened. What starts as a macabre mystery gradually descends into something much more gruesome as the chapters progress, and the secrets of Tomie's strange character are revealed. Many of the chapters have very little to do with each other save for Tomie's relentless reoccurrence, and you can almost guarrentee that, 4 times out of 5, you'll see her die (usually a more hideous death than the one before), regenerate, and come back again to torture all those whom she comes across.

Apart from the complexity of the stories as well as that of Tomie's sinister character herself, it is also a treat to see how Ito's illustrations evolve as he develops his own signature style. This development seems almost charted by Tomie's own physical transformation throughout the book. She evolves as Ito's illustrations do so that, by the final chapter, we are able to see Tomie in the way that Ito wants us to see her; as a hauntingly beautiful young woman.

Over all, it became clear to me after reading Museum of Terror that it is not just Ito's objective to write good horror; Ito it seems has striven to break our stereotypical assertions as to what the horror genre is. In fact, he's done something nearly unheard of. He's taken the blood-and-gore factor and made it genuinely scary again.

This collection includes most of the original Tomie stories, and gives a really amazing peek at Junji Ito's earlier art style. The lines are clear, and the characters are depicted in a deceptively simple and beautiful manner. But the story itself is a twisted virus-meets-vengeful ghost tale about a girl (Tomie) that never dies. More than that, she provokes the intense desire and fixation of the men she meets, which invariably ends in them murdering and mutilating her.

It's an amazing manga full of SICK STUFF and the plot and scares are very visceral; The story also hints at and vaguely throws around some gender politics (and gender violence!) in the subtext. With Tomie, Junji Ito doesn't just spin one linear tale, but a sortof MYTHOS around Tomie that unfurls with each chapter. Like, hmmmm-- is she like a parasite that encourages being killed and mutilated as a form of her own propagation? Is she more like a virus that infects and changes to suit the weaknesses of her 'hosts'?

Admittedly, it can get repetitive, but especially with the first volume, it's really effective in a big dose. The last panel of the final story in this volume is SO. SO. CREEPY. I yelped like a scared kitten and just threw the damn thing on the floor.

If you feel like you've seen Tomie around before, it's probably because the now-defunct publisher ComicsOne originally released some of Tomie in a two volume set. Yeah, previous to the Museum of Terror edition, the Tomie comics were VERY out of print, and cost a ridiculous amount to track down secondhand. Like a lot of ComicsOne editions, their printing of Tomie was shoddily translated, edited and the visual touch-up (signs in English, sound effects) were really awful. The company basically (as the rumor goes) packed up shop, stopped paying their bills and disappeared. The pieces and rights were later acquired by DR.Master and some of their more successful stuff got assimilated into the new company's catalogue.

As for the second volume: The SECOND volume is also entirely Tomie stories, but it's mostly previously unpublished stories from when Junji Ito revisited the character in 1999 & 2000. You can feel him really escalating the limits of the Tomie 'mythos' here, with the depravity hitting really nasty levels... Making SAKE out of Tomie's mashed up flesh? Slashing her face over and over with a RAZOR? It gets ugly, but I found it really fascinating to see him draw these stories in his later style-- the more detailed, shakier line style he explored in Uzumaki and his newer comics. I am ready for a new subject after hundreds of pages (and more than a dozen variations) on the Tomie tale, but it's pretty sweet to have the entire story in 2 hefty volumes.

As a final note note, the ordering of the stories in these two volumes reflect Junji Ito's own choice of how he wanted the chapters to be presented, as another reviewer has noted.

Barry Humphries admirably fleshes out the life of his most famous comic creation - Dame Edna Everage from Moonee Ponds housewife to beaming megastar. Like on TV, Edna is an outrageously egotistical tyrant who we find out has bullied Madge Allsop since High School and even danced with her cultural compatriate Les Patterson at a teenage formal. Here you will see how Edna saved Barry Humphries stage debut and has had him under her solicitors thumbs for several years.For sharp Edna/Barry enthusiasts there are a few questionable moves Humphries has made in the book though - 1) He is cheeky in that he leaves out a number of years in Edna's life as he did in his own biography. Why? 2) Edna started off as shy and genteel in the 50's. Here she is as bold as brass all the way. No real character change. 3) Her nephew "Barry McKenzie" is never mentioned. They did go to England together and do two movies together after all. Yet, despite these quibbles, there is Humphries characteristic razor sharp wit throughout and even a moving epilogue where Edna visits her husbands grave. In this there is a wonderful pathos which makes Humphries dedication to his character and his audience first class. Fans should look for other out of print Edna titles such as "Dame Ednas Coffee Table Book" if they enjoy this.

This is one of my all-time must-haves in the car...so that I can relisten to it any time LIFE gets a little too real, and I need a mini-mental vacation while driving. (It's an ideal gift too.)

It's a joy, and Dame Edna never fails to bring me back to a gentler reality.

I'm sorry to say that it hasn't been rereleased in Audio CD. I'm hoping that it will be available in that format in the future.

I purchased this book on tape for the listening pleasure of my friends and myself on a recent vacation. We have never laughed so hard! Since then, I've listened to it numerous times, and each time I pick up something new. Dame Edna is a true gem!

I've been a fan of Dame Edna's for years and I have to say that this faux autobiography is one of the funniest books I have ever read. Starting from her humble beginnings (with mauve hair even then) we see our lovely Edna blossom into womanhood, marriage and motherhood---though she rarely has time to properly look after the kids because of her hectic and famous life. As an advisor to the rich, famous and royal (a spin doctor, in her words, to the Queen), Edna becomes a superstar in her own right---struggling with her troublesome childhood friend, Madge Allsop, who Edna lets us know, is a burden a good deal of the time! Edna deals with many dramas----her eccentric children, her husband with his desperate prostrate problem and the trials of being so easily recognizable to the general public. If you wanna read a book with a great deal of laughs, try to find a copy of this book. You won't be disappointed.

If you love Dame Edna (and who doesn't?) and her rapier-sharp wit and wordly wisdom, this is the book for you. This autobiographical journey follows the housewife megastar from her sometimes painful childhood in Moonee Ponds to her meeting the man she would marry (and later purchase a new mechanical prostate for) to her meteoric rise to stardom (accompanied by her ever-present, though not always welcome bridesmaid, Madge). It's a laugh a minute, not unlike the Douglas Adams series, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. it will make you laugh out loud on public transport and guffaw during your tea-break (even though Dame Edna might disapprove of these slight breaches of etiquette). Pick it up, possums. It's likely the closest you'll ever get to this megastar.

In the title essay of this collection Joseph Epstein takes a cruel, if comical look at what he sees when he emerges from the pool. He looks at his own aging body, and shows sympathy for his wife who has to sleep next to such a body, rather than to merely be 'in it' as he himself is. Age has not been kind, and relatively clean - living has not prevented the various saggings and shiftings of weight which are before him. As with his body so with many other aspects of life Epstein sees with a clear and tough eye many other aspects of reality. The focus in most of these essays is himself, his heart- bypass, his reactions to the for him less than wonderful change in the character of popular - music, the ins and outs of nap-taking, his disenchantment with much modern sport, his way of reading a book to the end now should it be at his age his last crack at reading it. Epstein is both a Bellow- like Chicago tough guy close to the sounds and sights of American life, and an intellectual of the first rank whose moral insights and musings have most often a foundation in solid good sense. He is one of those writers who I find it simply a great joy to read. And he is one of those essayists who like Montaigne in holding a mirror up to himself holds a mirror to mankind in general.
Just the best.

I couldn't agree more with the reviewer from Texas, so let me repeat the Texan: a formal indictment should be brought against Phi Beta Kappa for firing Joseph Epstein. The end of the American Scholar as we knew it was the first publishing loss of my young life; now I fully appreciate how lifetime 'New Yorker 'readers felt when William Shawn was dismissed. Anyway, I'm supposed to stick to the book. These essays, originally American Scholar columns, are a great pleasure. Thank you, Mr. Epstein.

Loved it. Have converted all my friends to Epstein enthusiasts

The melancholy title of this book alone is enough to bring back memories of that bleak afternoon when I read in the pages of my newly arrived copy of the American Scholar that my longtime never-met friend Joseph Epstein would no longer pay his quarterly visit to my home. For months, I could not bring myself to finish the originally published Aristides essay in which he announces his leaving of the Scholar. I felt as though I had been told of the death of a long time boon companion. I later came to realize that Mr. Epstein had, in fact, not resigned but had been pushed out. Curses! Curses I proclaimed upon the American Scholar (those curses, by the way, still remain in effect; I vigorously renew them every change I get). Yet Mr. Epstein, gentleman scholar that he is, has to my knowledge, handled the insult with all the dignity that Mr. Emerson would have wished for in the last true editor of this now ill named journal. He wrote one of the most eloquent and distinctive essays of his career. The entire book resonates with the feeling of this one essay. Perhaps this was not intentional, perhaps it was. Certainly the coming storm was visible on the horizon. One could even say that Mr. Epstein was steeling himself against the opposing armies surrounding his outpost on a literary Masada. Such things can be seen in the distance and the soul can do nothing else but to arm and defend. Mr. Epstein was killed, in the literary sense. His editorial armor was stripped and his body was left for the academic carrion feeders. Yet he survives. Perhaps he will not regain an editorial position; quality does not seem to be in demand in these days of Miss Brown and her ilk. The fact that books of this sublimity, wit, and style are yet published truly astonishes one when the weekly best-seller lists are examined. We can only thank God that Mr. Epstein is still alive, writing, and occasionally published in such journals as the New Criterion, Commentary, and other publications of like erudition and taste. Read "Narcissus Leaves the Pool." Read it with the understanding that it is the last chapter in the life story of a once great journal. Read it with the knowledge that it is not "With My Trousers Rolled" or "A Line Out for a Walk," it more complex than either of those fine collections. Read it with the hope that you will be allowed into the thoughts, both idle and collected, of one of the last great essayists left in the world. You will not be disappointed.

Joseph Epstein is out of step with the times; so much the worse for the times. But you wouldn't expect one of our best essayists to share the hyperkinetic spirit of our quick-cut, crisis-of-the-week, information overload age, malnourished as it is on fast food and fast thought. Epstein's readers, used to his erudite and soothing literary voice, will conclude that he's, square peg or no, comfortable in the world. Epstein is a clear, deliberate thinker and graceful writer who won't be rushed. He knows his way around an idea, an anecdote, a philosophical question. He creates intimacy, interest, and assent without being the least polemical or didactic (see above re one of our best essayists), and demonstrates that as well as being useful, intelligence can also be a sheer joy. Narcissus Leaves the Pool -- the sixth essay collection of Epstein's 13 books - will only add to his reputation. The 16 pieces here repay the serious and the playful mind (if the same mind, so much the better). In his surefooted style -- serious but not solemn, humorous but never trivial, deep but always accessible. Epstein ponders what distinguishes a point of view from a grab-bag of opinions; shows how the role of popular music has changed in our lives; counts the ways professional sports offend these days, ("Watching Monica Seles play Arantxa Vicario, two players who grunt with every stroke, I feel that I am inside a hernia testing center.") and laments how hard it is for one who's loved the games to chuck the increasingly hard to justify habit; praises napping and disparages name dropping. He comes to terms with turning 60 in "Will You Still Feed Me." The title of the book and of the lead essay means to suggest the writer has reached an age where the preening and overreaching are done, where possibilities are relinquished. He's not exactly asking what to make of a diminished thing, but conceding that the future, while still pleasing at 61, is contracted. He's reached the age where when reading a good book he feels obligated to do a good job of it as it's unlikely he'll read that book again. An age where every trip to the doctor's office carries the real threat that the doctor will find what he has been poking around looking for these many years. Epstein admits squeamishness, but denies being a hypochondriac, "..only your normal thanatophobe." He ponders the question of how to maintain dignity in the physician's office. "While respecting what they do and realizing the need for them, I have tried to the best of my ability to steer clear of physicians. I find that, given a chance, they discover things I would rather not know about." Once such discovery led to one of life's experiences Epstein would have as soon skipped, heart surgery. He describes it in "Taking the Bypass." Epstein might not think to label himself a conservative. In part because the breathless clamors that fill political journals -- elections, legislative maneuvering, the routine changes of government -- do not interest him much. He's aware of the overall seriousness of politics, especially where it's very bad. He is friends with people who lost family in Hitler's death camps. But his principle concern is the with the workings of the human heart, not with the routine insolences of office. His skepticism regarding all Big Ideas and his rejection of all causes that individuals must be sacrificed in the name of put him, literary temperament and all, on the right side of the angels. A conservative in all but registration. Not one to diminish literature by hitching it to any ideological wagon, Epstein has no patience with tenured Philistines who flog their agendas with the literary masters. In "The Pleasures of Reading," he nails these villains. "What wide reading teaches is the richness, the complexity, the mystery of life.I have come to believe there is something deeply apolitical something above politics in literature, despite what feminist, Marxist, and other politicized literature critics might think. If at the end of a long life of reading the chief message you bring away is that women have had it lousy, or that capitalism stinks, or that attention must above all be paid to victims, then I'd say you just might have missed something." Epstein takes his reading seriously (though not solemnly, as you'll see). He's amused by profiles of people who list reading as a hobby. "I should as readily list under my hobbies, tennis, travel, and breathing." Epstein notices how few grownups there are these days and parses this matter in "Grow Up Why Dontcha." No accident that Seinfeld and Friends became so popular in the land of the perpetual adolescent. Role models in arrested development come with the substantial tuitions at America's colleges in the person of paunchy professors, certifiably past fifty, wearing blue jeans, hiking shoes, and even in some cases, God help us, backpacks. "In our own day one still sees what are essentially sixties characters in their fifties, walking the streets, tie-dyed, long-haired, sadly sandaled, neither grateful nor dead, waiting for the magic bus to the past." Epstein manages to combine literary insights of the literature professor (Northwestern) that he is -- you'll encounter Proust, Montaigne, T.S. Eliot, and Solzhenitsyn in these pages -- with the acute observations of the street smart Chicago boy he also is. You'll also run across Joe Montana, Mike Ditka ( I did say Chicago), Floyd Patterson, and former welter weight Carmen Basilio. Epstein delights in all precincts of Vanity Fair. Epstein, like your average French desert, is pretty rich stuff and probably is better read an essay or two at a time. Those who've read A Line Out For a Walk, Once More Around the Block, With My Trousers Rolled, or The Middle of My Tether know this already. It probably wouldn't do anyone actual harm to read an entire book of Epstein essays at one sitting. But why take a chance? Larry Thornberry - Tampa LTBerrywtr@aol.com

Judy Stone is disarmingly engaging, a trait and quality that has endeared her to many of her fascinating subjects for attention in this thoroughly embracing and terrific journey of conversations and commentary with (incredibly!) 120 filmmakers, writers, and artists from every continent and culture. Reading the stories I felt an unusual intimacy, often forced or lacking in standard interview formats, with stilted questions or stock inquiries, which Stone adeptly avoids. She enables the person to reveal themselves without it seeming intrusive. Her remarkable, incisive curiosity and talent spans generations (from pre-WW2 to the present) and genres, revealing not only what we previously didn't know about the artist or subject, but also illustrating how a creative life is imperative. It is Stone's life that is the real revelation, however. As she writes about the playwright Jon Robin Baitz, he says "Ideas live. Ideas vibrate." So does this book! Get it to discover the astounding array of humanity inside its covers, get it to curl up with this national treasure, Judy Stone!
Not Quite a Memoir: Of Films, Books, the World

Judy Stone's Not Quite a Memoir is the printed equivalent of one of those late-night pub conversations in which the world's great thinkers get together and come up with viable solutions for all the world's problems. And right there in the middle is Stone's unflappable voice, asking the hard questions.

Judy Stone (the sister of I.F. Stone) has been writing these indispensable articles (now collected in an omnibus edition) of both American and international movies for the past three decades.

In between, she has conducted revealing and intelligent interviews (also in this book) with a startling array of directors, actors, and writers from every corner of the world, often traveling to do so. Stone's impressive body of work has actually been collected in two volumes, "Eye on the World" (1997) and this brand new book, "Not Quite a Memoir."

Stone modestly prefers to call herself a reviewer, not a critic, but if any film reviewer has a knowledge of the world as deep as hers and manages to show how films function in that world, I believe Judy Stone has earned the right to be called a critic.

Keep this book around, and you'll find yourself reading it each day, just because it's so much fun and remains so imformative about our world today.

For anyone who has enjoyed Judy Stone's perceptive articles over the years, this book is a feast: a look back at several decades of writing and filmmaking. The only problem is that it reminds you of all the books you wish you had read and the films you wish you had seen. But still, in a world where there is more culture than we can possibly take in, it's nice to have this kind of guidebook to the highlights.

"Not Quite a Memoir" flies around the world from the U.S's Gus Van Sant to Iran's Abbas Kiarostami, Israel's Amos Gitai,Spain's Carlos Saura, Chile's Isabel Allende, India's Satyajit Ray...At every landing, Stone creates a portrait of the artist as a force for social change. Intriguingly, the author backs up her portrait in words by capturing - with unassuming genius--astonishingly insightful photographs of her interview subjects...For medical reasons, Kiarostami never takes off those enigmatic sunglasses. Yet Stone's camera flash cleverly shines right through the artist's dark glasses to give us the first glimpse of eyes that revolutionized filmmaking with how they saw the world. Judy Stone's short interviews, like that camera flash, are just as clever and penetrating."
Ari Siletz, author "The Mullah with No Legs and other stories."

This is an excellent translation that reads like a smooth novel.

The thing that attracted me to this particular version of the Odyssey by Homer was obviously the translation by T.E. Lawrence (i.e.: T.E Shaw) - yes that Lawrence of Arabia. Apparently he carried a worn copy around for four years on his person and eventually produced this translation of the famous epic adventure. According to various Odyssy scholars this 1930 period translation remains important: "for it was the first translation which succeeded in offering both the spirit and the narrative of the Greek original".

There are a number of things about the book worth noting. The first is the introduction by Lawrence to his work. It is just a four page introduction but it makes one nervous since his writing seems to be in the William F. Buckley style where writers use complicated phrases and words to impress the reader or entertain themselves but make the whole reading experience somewhat opaque. But fortunately that disappears in the translation itself.

The translation is clear and highly readable like a Tom Clancy or Jack London novel or similar. The words just flow along and the 400 pages quickly pass by. It is an interesting and entertaining story and this translation is well executed.

Not being a Greek scholar or similar I found the first 10 pages or so slow going since I was not familiar with all the different Gods - such as Zeuss, Poseidon, etc and how these all came into play. But once that is absorbed, the story is like any other novel - but here of course the ancient tale of the trip by Odysseus home to Ithaca after battles in Troy, and his son Telemachus and his wife Penelope who stayed in Ithaca. It is the epic story of fights with Cyclops, the Goddess Athene, daring sea voyages, great feasts, singing, and many close calls with death.

A superb story that has lasted through the ages.
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This was my first attempt at Homer and I have to say, Mr. Lawrence's translation worked for me.

T.E. Lawrence (Lawrence of Arabia) is an interesting person by his own right, and as the Introduction alludes to, we get his 'voice of experience' atop Homer's sublime poetry. If there is such a phenomena as 'Two birds with one stone,' this would have to be a good candidate for demonstrating same.

I am convinced by my own experience (as out of favor as it may be), that study of the Classics can be a Life Enhancing, and this book was essentially my first foray into this Truism.

Hope you find this review helpful.

T.E. Lawrence (the English officer who brought together the various peoples of the Arabian peninsula against the Ottoman Empire during World War I; better known as Lawrence of Arabia) called the epic poem "The Odyssey" by the Greek poet Homer "the oldest book worth reading for its story, and the first novel of Europe". The tale of King Odysseus, struggling to return to his home of Ithaca and his family after the Trojan War, is one on par with the finest of contemporary fantasy. Combining as it does a sprawling saga of a ten-year adventure with such fabulous creatures as the Cyclops Polyphemus, the hideous man-devouring Scylla, and the lethally-alluring Sirens with many of the gods of the ancient Greek pantheon (Athene, Poseidon, Calypso, Hermes, and others besides), one can even today marvel at its author's imagination and ingenuity. Then too there is the rich humanity of its mortal characters; the cunning Odysseus, his virtuous wife Penelope, his stalwart son Telemachus, the boorish suitors of Penelope, Eurymachus and Antinous, the august king Menelaus, and a great many more. It is a heady mixture. Lawrence's prose translation is written with a lyrical, romantic deftness. It harkens back to the high epic stories of Sir Walter Scott. But Lawrence never minimizes the sometimes brutal craftiness of Odysseus, nor his casual unfaithfulness to his wife, nor yet his still tender yearning for her and his son. And Lawrence glories in the ancient Greek tradition of "manly tales, manfully told", both in the novel itself and in Odysseus's recounting of his journey to his benefactors. Here indeed is a true flavor of those olden times. As wild and magnificent today as it was 2,500 years ago, "The Odyssey", in whatever form it takes, is still a story by which all other tales of fantastic adventure can be measured.

I have read the Odyssey several times in several translations, and this one, by the famed "Lawrence of Arabia" is the best of them all. No other translation that I have read makes this classic more readable and more enjoyable. Some translations plod, and obscure the excitement of the original, this one turns it into a real page-turner. If you've never read Homer and wonder which of the many translations to read, this is the one; I can recommend no other to introduce "newbies" to the classic world of epic fantasy and adventure.

I hesitated in buying this translation of the Odyssey having grown up with verse translations, most notably that of Fitzgerald. A prose translation somehow put me off; it seemed like the very meaning of Homer's words would be rendered into something different. One day, I read about the translation that T. E. Lawrence had made and, intrigued, I decided to read it for myself. I was very glad that I did.

Lawrence made his translation with an eye for the details and color of the text. He claimed that his experiences in the war in Arabia helped him to understand the writer of the Odyssey, and I think this did aid him in his approach to his translation. The introduction to this printing of Lawrence's translation provides an interesting comparison to another widely used prose rendering of the Odyssey, and one can instantly discover how much more vivid and faithful Lawrence is to the original. So, Lawrence's Odyssey is a translation I will return to in my future reading of this classic tale.

If you grew up on or currently live on a farm this is an interesting read. Even if a farm life is not your experience this book gives great insight to farm life before all the modern conveniences became common. You will enjoy it. Once upon a Farm

We bought this and "Christmas on the Farm" especially for our grandchildren who love farm animals. They thoroughly enjoy reading these books with Grandpa and talking about the wonderful pictures. What a great contribution to remembering things the way they used to be. Thank you Bob Artley!

Bob Artley is so talented and gives you the feeling you are back on the farm again. Brought out so many wonderful memories that I had forgotten. Great book!

My mother is in her eighties and her dictum has become (for gifts),
if I can't wear it, eat it or spend it, don't give it to me. I
broke the rule when I gave her this book for Christmas, and she
loved it so much it brought tears to her eyes.

Bob Artley came from a town not more than 50 miles from my home
town and his age is not that far from the mother's age, and since
my mother also grew up on a farm, going through the book was like
going back into her own very real time. Unlike Mr. Artley and
probably nearly all girls who live on farms today, my mother did
not do chores connected with the farm. That was a guy-thing.
Girls worked in the house. Period. But she certainly had
brothers a-plenty who did those very same things in very similar
ways as did Mr. Artley. The illustrations are wonderful,
so realistic you can almost smell the hay, and other things
not quite so fragrant connected with farms.

I would recommend this book to anyone who has ever lived on a farm, lived near a farm, driven by a farm. It is a document of
a way of life that is swiftly leaving the scene, more's the
pity. It should also be in school libraries.
Even very young children can get a real sense of what it was like
to live on a farm through the marvelous illustrations

This is a beautiful book written by a writer and illustrator who grew up on an Iowa farm in the 1930's as the "age of the horse" was giving way to the "age of the tractor." The author, Bob Artley, illustrates with detailed sketches and color drawings of such things as walking through the spring mud from barn to barn carrying a bucket of feed, a birds eye view of the farmstead, one of father and son cleaning oat seed with a hand powered fanning mill, planting corn behind a team of horses, milking a cow the old fashioned way, the details of a cream separator, threshers at harvest time and much more. Mr. Artley writes a description of the work they did, what was hard, what was fun and a few of his personal memories of the feelings that he as a child had living this life. It is a touching book written with love and realism describing a lifestyle that has passed by. I especially loved his description of the barn chores where each cow had her chosen place where they were fed silage topped with ground oats and linseed oil, and where they would bed down in the straw with their heads in the stanchions feeding on clover hay. Mr. Artley is not overly sentimental in his memories. He also explains the distastefulness of cleaning out the gutters, working in the cold and the heat etc. He gives us a balanced look at farm life prior to telephones, electricity and indoor plumbing. This is a wonderful book for both those who also experienced farm life in the 1930's as well as younger people like myself who are simply interested in the lives of an older generation.