Prose Books

Awesome book. Received quickly and in perfect condition. Thank you so very much!! Peggy Bender

I love hummingbirds. I found this book most useful for helping me identify many of the different species of hummingbirds when I went down to photograph and videotape 14 different types south of Tucson. The book has valuable information, brilliant close-up photos and more valuable insights into these birds, habitats and much more. There are many on the market but if you want one for identification and more too this is in my top 3.

Um livro bastante técnico, exelente para biólogos e/ou ornitólogos.As informações são muito completas principalmente no que se refere às variações de plumagens que ocorrem dentro das mesmas espécies( machos, fêmeas e filhotes).Exelentes informações sobre a distribuição geográfica das espécies.

I'm now able to correctly identiful many species of Hummingbirds. Great source of information. Very detailed book.

This is a very useful book for birders who want to be able to identify hummingbirds in the U.S. It includes photos and accompanying text for every hummingbird that you are likely (or lucky enough) to spot within U.S. borders. The text is particularly good, and the photos are shown large enough to be of use to the beginner/intermediate birdwatcher in addition to the experienced observer.

There are three great novels about the Latin American dictator and all of them are very different. Miguel Asturias' Mr. President deals with a backwater banana republic where the president for life's presence itself is minor. What occurs instead is the lethal working out of a hideously unjust system which crushes and destroys all who resist and those who are caught in its clutches. Then there is Gabriel Garcia Marquez's The Autumn of the Patriarch, an example of high modernism at its most brilliant. In sentences of increasingly serpentine length (in the end consisting of the final chapter of forty-five pages) Garcia Marquez deals with an aged dictator who has ruled for centuries and is capable of every iniquity (such as serving up a cabinet minister for his treacherous colleagues to eat) while living in a world of pretend power and real submission (he has to sell his country's sea to pay off the Americans). This book is also high modernist, but is very different. Instead of the fantastic elements of the Autumn of the Patriarch we have here the story of the founder of Paraguay, Dr. Francia. Dr. Francia consolidated his country's independence by creating a regime of isolation and absolute power. He expelled the Jesuits and set up his own Catholic Church so it would not be beholden to Rome. He was utterly ruthless and the result, according to E. Bradford Burns was an autarky that probably benefited the masses more in terms of literacy and nutrition than any other Latin American country of the time. Its fate, however, was to be crushed by the surrounding countries in the great war of 1870-73 where the male population was almost literally devastated.

No venal tinpot hack, Dr. Francia appears as a man of frightening sincerity, in an account that is of direct revelance to the fate of Castro's Cuba. I, the Supreme begins with a proclamation in which the dicators calls for the decapitation of his corpse and the lynching of all his ministers. It continues with tales of prisoners forced to live in boats travelling down the rivers of Paraguay without ever stopping. We read of Francia's dialogue with a sycophantic Vicar General ("How long did the trial of the infamous traitors to the Fatherland last? As long as it was necessary in order not to rush to judgement. They were granted every right to defend themselves. In the end every recourse was exhausted. It might be said that the case was never closed. It is still open. Not all the guilty parties were sentenced to death and executed."), who then goes on to condemn his priests for siring dozens and hundreds of illegitimate children. Like Lenin and indeed Stalin he rants against the jungle of bureaucracy that he himself has created, he outsmarts the greedy surrounding oligarchies who wish to absorb Paraguay, he reminds his civil servants not to express and exploit the Indian population. We read reports of how school children are indoctrinated to see their great leader ("The Supreme Government is very old. Older than the Lord God, that our schoolmaster...tells us about in a low voice.) The book is a masterpiece of polyphony, filled with many voices and viewpoints, combined with a richness of metaphor and incident and a complexity of moral vision that have few competitors this century. Writing for a country that has possessed only brief and shadowy vestiges of liberty, Roa Bastos deals with its pain in a way that should be required reading for all who care about democracy.

if you want to understand power get this book.

A sublime book with fabulous ideas and use of language. Very much worth buying.

In what has to be a fictional note at the end of the book, the author claims that he is not such, indicating that he merely copied parts of historical documents, writings and tales, thus the real "author" of this book is history itself and not him, who he says is merely the "compiler." The work is indeed true to history; the history about José Gaspar Rodríguez de Francia, the controversial Dictator of Paraguay between 1814-1840 who used to sign his official decrees not with his name but the sentence that is the title of this book. This is a wonderfully complex book; not easy to read. Sometimes fascinating paragraphs are unexpectedly cut with some note form the "compiler" indicating that the rest is illegible because the page is partly burned, which lets you to think that it was indeed copied from an old document; while at other times you read fascinating dialogs and monologues which you would think had to be fictional; but it is not as simple: You cannot tell truth from fiction because the truth seems fictional and the fiction tells truth. Truth that comes to you in the form of insights about the state of mind of a dictator, about absolute power, and about the soul of a country that owns its independent existence to its first dictator's determination to be its supreme ruler. It is an utterly fascinating book.

This is a wonderful book, by a great writer. The catch is that very often it will be misunderstood, and associated with the group of fantastic south american writers, like Garcia Marquez. Instead the story is basically for real (the story of the last years of Paraguay dictator Gaspar Francia, who ruled the country from 1813 to 1840), and most of the mentioned documents are authentic, or at least plausible. Roa Bastos has played on the borderline between history and fiction, but most readers will not know this, and take for fiction what are very important and interesting historical facts, that would deserve a different approach and attention. This is the only (but rather painful) fault I find in an otherwise beautiful work.

"Honestly, if Possible" may quite possibly be the most wonderful short story I've ever read. Like other newer Sinclair readers, I'm amazed with the currency of all his work, and even more amazed that he isn't more widely known. I'm doing my best to get the story out-I've got a lot of PEP!

I was surprised at how relevant the stories were to the current times. Despite being written between 1915 and the early 1920's, workers ( and employers ) were faced with problems of sexual harrasment, boredom, stealing employees, and office politics.

Definately, you can detect parts of Babbit in many of the characters in the book.

All of the stories were worth reading. Some are amusing, some sad, and a few happy. All of them, however are thought provoking.

Overall, a great book to get a hold of, especially if you are a Sinclair Lewis fan.

Lewis' early magazine pieces, printed here for the first time since their original publication in 1915-23, unmistakably contain the seeds of his later Pulitzer Prize-winning satirical novels and are irresistible in their own right.
The language is dated, and the modern reader may find some usage jarring (e.g., "love-making" for what we might call "flirting"), but it is remarkable in this postmodern age of Dilbert and e-mail that so little has changed in human nature, especially as expressed in office romances and politics. Look closely and you may see in some of Lewis' hucksters someone looking back at you; someone uncomfortably familiar.
(P) (The "score" rating is an ineradicable feature of the page. This reviewer does not "score" books.)

If you made a short list of notable literary efforts from America's first Nobel Prize in Literature winner, the inestimable Sinclair Lewis, titles such as "Main Street," "Babbitt," and "Elmer Gantry" would probably sit near the top. More discerning fans of the master satirist might throw in "Dodsworth," "It Can't Happen Here," and "Kingsblood Royal." What you wouldn't find anywhere on this speculative list are the short stories between the pages of "If I Were Boss: The Early Business Stories of Sinclair Lewis." Why? According to the intricate yet astoundingly informative introduction by Anthony Di Renzo, none of the fifteen stories contained in the anthology have been republished since their original appearance between the years 1915-1921 in magazines like "The Saturday Evening Post." If you stagger under the knowledge that works of a Nobel Prize winner have been out of print that long, you'll really have a fit once you read this collection. Every one of the tales in this book is wonderful. Everything you know about Lewis-his scathing wit, his boundless cynicism tempered with a secret hope for the triumph of humanity, his spot on ability to recreate the American vernacular-infuses every page of every story.

If I had to pick a specific story as my personal favorite, I would pick the four stories that make up what is the Lancelot Todd cycle. Lewis spent many years of his life working in advertising, loathed the profession, and promptly took his revenge with stories like "Snappy Display," "Slip It to 'Em," "Getting His Bit," and "Jazz." These four tales document the unsavory career of Lancelot Todd, America's premier advertising guru and an unbridled charlatan. Always on the lookout for the perfect con, Todd spends his days writing peppy newsletters for large business concerns and spewing out self-help books designed to teach the workingman how to get ahead. He devotes his free time to seeking a higher position in society and cultivating a cirrhotic liver. Lewis scathingly paints a picture of Todd's machinations only to bring him down in the end as his latest caper falls apart. The best example is "Slip It to 'Em," where Todd runs a car company into the ground only to find he must transport his latest wealthy conquest to an important meeting in one of the lemons his company foisted on the public. You haven't laughed until you have read a Lancelot Todd story. The only thing I could think of after these four stories was where I could get my hands on more of them.

All of the stories in the collection pertain to issues still relevant today. In "If I Were Boss," salesman Charley McClure strives to make a name for himself at his firm only to discover the same issues he excoriated his own boss for come back to haunt him years later when he runs the show. "Honestly-If Possible" explores the sometimes painful relationship between men and women in the office place. So does "A Story with a Happy Ending," but in a different way. Leonard Price eventually undergoes the humiliating experience of working for a woman he initially hired years before. The confusing experience of workplace conflicts finds expression in "Way I See It," where Lewis uses a shifting perspective to examine the contentious relationship between a rental agent and his boss. Even corporate takeovers and office backstabbing get a spotlight in "The Whisperer," an unnerving tale about a fast buck quack obliterating his internal opposition in his bid for the top spot at an unprofitable pharmaceutical company. Repeatedly, I was amazed at how the many issues Lewis raises in these stories continue to have importance in today's corporate world. It would seem we haven't advanced very far since the 1910s and 1920s, at least regarding gender roles and business ethics.

Don't think for a minute that Lewis completely despises his subjects. In "The Good Sport," the author brings one of those fly by night, wiseacre salesman who run from job to job down to earth in a particularly humbling yet ennobling way. "A Matter of Business" finds a businessman agonizing over whether to remain loyal to a local supplier or whether to buy trendy yet shoddy products from a national concern. The last story, "Number Seven to Sagapoose," is a truly beautiful heart wrencher about a traveling shoe salesman's ability to make a huge difference in the lives of certain individuals and, by extension, humanity as a whole. It is in these stories that we see Lewis's caustic barbs and deep cynicism stripped away to reveal a man who fervently hoped that mankind could overcome its ridiculous social constructions and petty trappings in order to achieve a higher, nobler purpose.

As I closed the cover to "If I Were Boss" for the final time, I felt a deep kinship with Sinclair Lewis, realizing that he and I share many of the same thought processes and beliefs. I couldn't help but think that I would have gotten along just fine with Lewis if I had personally known him. I think I understand him as a person, however misguided that assumption might be, and now realize how difficult his life must have been. When one sees humanity in the way Lewis sees it, when one recognizes the pettiness and banalities we surround ourselves with, one quickly understands how difficult it is to function in life. That's why I think Lewis relied so heavily on humor in his stories: if you cannot laugh at the utter ridiculousness of modern life, you will quickly find yourself screaming with rage. These insights on my part hint at the powerful qualities of the author's stories and his writing ability. If you're the eternal cynic who can still laugh, pick this book up right away.

While I have enjoyed Lewis's novels, I have also found them to be somewhat angry and bitter. These stories are a different matter. Several of them are uproariously funny, in many ways reminiscent of Ring Lardner's best, where the outrage is hidden behind a mask of humor.

The introduction provides an interesting background in terms of both America's history and the events of Lewis's own life.

The description of the condition of the book was dead on and got my satisfaction. A great purchase and a great book.

This volume covers the period from September 1914 to 1948, and consists of essays and other writings on war and Hesse's reactions to it. I was surprised how what he said resonated with me--filled with opposition to German militarism and detestion of the Nazi horror. I was again reminded of Hesse's greatness, and I don't see how the language of the translation could be better. I was greatly moved by the proof that there were good Germans who cringed in pain as they watched the slide to Hitlerian madness. There are 25 separate pieces and I am glad I own this book, so I can refer to them again and again.

Hermann Hesse's "If the War Goes On" is different from many of his other books because rather than fiction, it is a book of short essays. The one which still stands out in my mind after 20-plus years is entitled, "The European". The book is worth reading. Hesse was, if I recall correctly, a pacificist whose nationality happened to be German, at a time when war was going on in Europe. The title of the book seems to reflect both the external political cirumstances of the time in which he was writing, but also, and perhaps mainly, conditions of conflict inside people. It is evident from biographies of Hesse that he struggled alot and documented this in his writing. It's time for me to re-read this incredible book.

I don't know the "Amazon.com Customer" who wrote the 1998 review of Hesse's small book of essays _If the War Goes On_. What I do know is more than 30 YEARS after reading the same essay, "THE EUROPEAN", I'm obliged to continue recommending it to people everywhere. Hesse was European and German yet a pacifist. He also was a person with a healthy self-criticism for the population to which he belonged. In pre-Hitlerian Europe (specifically Germany) he must have suffered for his ideas and feelings far from the Teutonic/Euro ordinary. Yet he had enough courage to claim and share what he perceived. "The European" is a lesson for our times. Get this book. Share this essay.

What is it like to be a famous German novelist living in Switzerland during World War II? Innumerable Germans at their wits' end would write Hermann Hesse hoping that somehow he could help them. In this collection of short pieces, Hesse shows that the best way he knew to achieve peace was to use his pen.

It is worth getting your hands on this book just in order to read "The European," which reminds us that philosophy must above all be practical.

Although this is an overview book, there is so much here to recommend it to the artist. I do C&I for my historical group (SCA) and this is such a wonderful source!

This is one of the best books on illuminated manuscripts currently available. The book is hardcover, full color throughout, and many nice reproductions. There is a nice variety in the work shown and good commentary. If you get this at the discounted price, this is a hard book to beat in quantity and quality. Along with A History of Illuminated Manuscripts this is a must-have book.

What can I say? I have been researching this specific field now for the last five years, and rarely find such a magnificent reproduction as this! Excellent job on the colour balance, and many miniatures I have not seen in any other books. Well done.

Best "bang for the buck" period illumination book on the market. Every page is crammed with beautiful, clear color photos of ten centuries of period illumination styles. There are 'leaves' and 'hours' in there that I have never seen before. Best of all (and unlike other books I could name) it's affordable and within the reach of the true 'starving artist' (and it's about time).

What a marvellous collection of Illustrated Manuscripts. A couple of other reviewers stated that this was one of the best books of this kind ever published.I certainly have no dispute with them as it is the best I've seen.
Going through this book gives one the feeling of viewing the greatest illustrated books that were the domain of the rich and powerful from the 7th. Century to the 17th.Century. Unless you were of that class,you had little chance of ever seeing,touching and certainly no chance whatsoever of owning one of these books.
Until the Gutenberg press of the 1450's there were no printed books,which meant that any book had to be drawn and lettered printed by hand,taking years of painstaking and highly talented work.Hence,they were extremely expensive and available to the very few.Even someone who owned or had access to books like these,even they would be very lucky if they saw more than a few in their lifetime.In this book we get to see hundreds of the manuscripts from literally hundreds of these rare masterpieces.They come from all over Europe and from a span of roughly a thousand years.
It'as amazing to think that in the 14th.Century,it was possible to build massive Cathedrals;but a book like this for the masses was not even imaginable.

I became interested in this short book because I admired Julian Barnes' earlier work ("Flaubert's Parrot", "A History of the World in 10 1/2 Chapters") and because of my own pain. I have neuropathy (nerve damage) in my hands, legs, and feet because of diabetes. Although my situation is not as dire as Alphonse Daudet's, I found myself nodding my head over and over at the accuracy of his perceptions. Daudet had ataxia: pain and progressive paralysis due to end-stage syphilis. He was a very popular comic writer in his day (the French late 19th century) but has been mostly forgotten except for this little book, which Barnes translated into English for the first time. Barnes also provides excellent commentary. This book combines lightness and literary weight in perfect proportion.

Daudet's weapon in his decade long struggle with his pain were his notebooks, which were filled with precise description and irony. (He finally died at age 57.) This sounds like a recipe for self-absorption, but there is very little ego in this book. Daudet approached his pain almost as a puzzle to be solved, not as an invitation for people to feel sorry for him. Barnes provides descriptions of Daudet's gallant response to his illness. Barnes quotes Philip Larkin: "courage is not frightening the others" and Daudet seems to have believed that as well. He was haunted by the thought of burdening his devoted wife and children, but agrees that his family responsibilities actually help him cope.

The effort of writing seems to have been cathartic for Daudet, and the reader is filled with a similar feeling of cheerfulness at having faced things squarely. Daudet had little use for religion: but at one point he admits that most people are not made happy by either good fortune or good health. He sighs, "all we lack is a sense of the divine." He carried on anyway, and this small, grim book may also help you too, in a way more sentimental books can't

You can approach this book in two ways, first as a looker and secondly as an insider. For all you malady of the month types, this will certainly satisfy your curiousity and would please any gothic type. For those looking for something deeper, you will find substance in this book. As a person with tardive dystonia, a motor disorder, I can empathize with the pain and muscle spasms that the author of this book describes and how every moment of each day is spent trying to fend them off. People have mentioned that the author's neurosyphillis could now have been treated by medication. But I see something of greater importance. It would be almost a century before people began to think of themselves as "disabled" instead of sick and the shame attached to being in a dysfunctioning body would no longer place you in a seperate category of almost an untouchable, perhaps starting with F.D.R. rehabilitating from polio. In the Land of Pain, vividly depicts the gradual lose of humanity that was part of entering the world of people with disabilities that plagued humanity for centuries. This work is more significant than all the after the fact pseudo-scientific works that want to attribute syphillis to everyone from Napoleon to Beethoven to Hitler. This is a first person account of what it is like to be faced with a disorder that you know will eventually destroy your life. To quote from the book,
"I only know one thing, and that is to shout to my children, 'Long live life!' But it is so hard to do, while I am ripped apart by pain."

ALPHONSE DAUDET SAID: "My poor carcass is hollowed out, voided by anemia. Pain echoes thru it as a voice echoes in a house without furniture or curtains. There are days, long days, when the only part of me that's alive is my pain."

Schadenrelief is a word I coined myself. (Somebody had to.) Schadenrelief is a slightly less sinister version of schadenfreude. Schadenrelief is the selfish relief you feel in reaction to someone else's suffering. It's the relief that's expressed whenever you internally say to yourself those 5 magic words: "I'm glad it wasn't me".

ALPHONSE DAUDET SAID: "Very strange, the fear that pain inspires nowadays--or rather, this pain of mine. It's bearable, and yet I cannot bear it. It's sheer dread; and my resort to anaesthetics is like a cry for help, the squeal of a woman before danger actually strikes."

Julian Barnes's own stuff suffers from a surfeit of Anglo-Saxon stuffiness. He's pretty much a parody of a stuffy Englishman. So this translation comes as a well-needed boost to Barnes's reputation. I'd be curious to see him translate Cioran's aphorisms and compare them to Richard Howard's translations.

ALPHONSE DAUDET SAID: "Pain has a life of its own. The ingenious efforts a disease makes in order to survive. People say: 'Let nature take its course.' But death is as much a part of nature as life. The forces of survival and destruction are at war within us and are equally matched. I've seen impressive examples of the skill with which disease manages to propagate itself. The two TB cases who fell in love: how passionately they clung to one another. You could almost hear the disease saying to itself: 'Now here's a perfect match!' And just imagine the morbidity it would give birth to."

Barnes has a mixed opinion of Harold Brodkey's book about Brodkey's illness. So I guess I'll take a look at Brodkey next. It's funny how Daudet doesn't say much about the temptation of suicide. It's too bad they didn't have barbituates in the 1800s. And it's too bad we don't have them now in the 2000s. (Barbituates have been replaced with non-lethal sedatives and it's just a darn shame.)

ALPHONSE DAUDET SAID: "You have to die so many times before you die."

Books about pain can be excruciating to read, and this is one of them. It is fragmentary, brutally honest, and as direct as an uppercut to the jaw.

Other works in the same genre include Montaigne's long essay "Of Experience" and Tolstoy's novelette THE DEATH OF IVAN ILYICH. Somehow we would all like to think that we will escape pain and die softly like a snowflake evaporating in pure air. If we were all Zen masters, we could die like the sages in Yoel Hoffmann's brilliant collection, JAPANESE DEATH POEMS:

Inhale, exhale
Forward, back
Living, dying:
Arrows, let flown each to each
Meet midway and slice
The void in aimless flight --
Thus I return to the source.
-- Gesshu Soko (d. 1696)

Though not well known to English-speaking readers, Alphone Daudet was considered one of the greatest French novelists of the late 19th century. A full forty years before his death, he contracted syphilis around the age of 17. Around the age of 40, Daudet's illness reached the tertiary stage; and he was bedeviled by a symphony of pain that attacked his various organs, sometimes with brief remissions before new and more awful symptoms appeared.

It is ironical that, were he alive today, Daudet would be cured by antibiotics; and Montaigne's kidney stones, possibly by medications, possibly by a routine surgery.

British novelist Julian Barnes edited this collection of fragments. It takes only a couple of hours to read, but I guarantee that this book will leave echoes in your mind about the battles you yourself may face as you reach the endgame.

Third stage syphilis is an unlikely subject for an enchanting book - but this it is. First, one is impressed by the precision of observation and expression. While the symptoms are shared with other patients, this is always the description of a particular victim of the disease. Second, one is impressed by the ever-changing attitude of Daudet to the progression and feared progression of the diease. Third, one is impressed by Daudet himself in his concern for those around him. The result is an enjoyable, informative introduction to Daudet as a person and as an example of human response to continuous pain.

Julian Barnes' translation is excellent - footnotes are provided that identify people, places, medicines that are unfamilar. Two short essays on Daudet and syphlis complete the book.

While this book may not appear to be high on the to-be-read-list, it deserves a place near the top.

I enjoyed this book immensely, but probably for the wrong reasons. The book is a bit chewy in places, but stick with it, as it's surprisingly enjoyable on it's own merits. On a more selfish, sadistic note, I had been mecilessly bludgeoned on a regulary basis by a work colleague, a second generation descendant of the Emerald Isle, with tales of Celtic martyrdom and Anglo tyranny, and none of which I felt I had the right to dispute. Then I read the book. After ten minutes of lively debate, challenging all he knew as 'fact', he has not spoken to me since. No-one had ever shut him up before. Heaven. But back to the point, I found this to be a rather good read.

Baby Cromwell, Nottingham, England

R. F. "Roy" Foster author of 'W. B. Yeats: The Apprentice Mage,' 'Charles Stewart Parnell: The Man and His Family' and 'Modern Ireland,' has written this experience and interpetation into Irish history and literature. He does a fine job of it. His bravery in massacring every sacred Irish cow as one would have fun reading it. It leaves you with a warm, passionate, giggly feeling. It's entertainingly brilliant look at the past and present Ireland. I particularly love the chapters and passages on Theme-parks & Histories (with some warning from Foster on expliotation); the chapters on Yeats; When the Newspapers Have Forgotten Me: Yeats, Obituarists and Irishness; Selling Irish Childhoods: Frank McCourt & Gerry Adams; and, Remembering 1798. They're totally smothered in clichés and lots of traditional tidbits of fond or fatal memories, known to some as the Irish experience.

Foster cleverly works moments of Ireland's past into narratives of Irish culture on myth, folklore, ghost stories and romance. The result is from a varied interpetation of opinionated and right down funny interlinking essays. In Theme-parks and Histories-Foster writes of the Irish are to remember or commemorate anything. It is worth remembering the upward curve of Irish cultural achievement-referring to W. B. Yeats, Hugh Leonard, Ezra Pound, Cashel Heritage Society and the 2,000-acre Famine Theme Park in Knockfierna Hill west of Limerick. Irish history, the most distinctive achievement for it. His suggestion to form a monument to Amnesia and forget where they put it. As a historian he would be shocked, but as an Irishman he would be attracted to the idea. Foster shows no mercy on his view of manipulating Irish history on political places and Irish poverty and oppression as a commerically packaged heritage park. His exploration of Yeats' authority of the Irish story's fitting moments as the voice of his Ireland countrymen.

Foster leaves teeth-marked criticism of Frank McCourt (Angela's Ashes) and Gerry Adams and their devil may care attittude of taking hostages for fortune. Transcending into the bestsellerdom of Irish childhoods. Simply a technique of marketing where Irish version brag and whimper about the woes of their early years' experience. I find this to be an entertaining reading. In some places a bit wordy, but good telling of Irish culture. You may hate or love it. But, if your interest is in Irish history and literature it's quite essential.

Irish people of all persuasions and in all walks of life have developed a talent for building up a national history to their liking and drawing conclusions from it. Roy Foster's essays are about some of the ways in which Ireland's history has been interpreted, embroidered, exploited and packaged. I think everyone will agree there are cogent reasons for preserving the distinction between history and "national fiction". Ultimately, poor history makes poor propaganda, and propaganda in any case is a shabby use to put something as precious as a nation's history. This book is essential reading for people with an interest in Ireland. (I also recommend strongly the same author's earlier "Modern Ireland 1600-1972".)

This book ought to be on the shelf of anyone with an interest in Irish history. Foster has done an excellent job at making his points about the various 'uses' that history in Ireland has been employed for. From downright propaganda to 'memoirs' masquerading as vague truths he unleashes the power of clear thinking and valid sources. For so long Irish history has been treated as 'story' and this book attempts and succeeds in telling the difference. It is so refreshing to see something sensible in print! It is a great source book or reference and could also be read by delving into the different subjects in the index. I would recommend this for all who are involved in getting to know the real history of Ireland and the Irish and how some Irish 'history' came to be written in the first place.

Porter's tongue-in-cheek treatment of the marketing of Ireland is refreshing after an avalanche of Irish hype came from unscrupulous little publishers.The Disneynification of Ireland ,apparently propelled by American ad agencies for the Irish Tourist Board,is treated by Porter correctly as hype to snare innocent Irish-Americans.Porter gets almost every hilarious Irish twist of recent decades in this collection of exposes, including the hilarious, almost unbelievable marketing of the potato famine in Disney-like theme parks.Unfortunately, he closed his collection of revionist chapters without pointing to the biggest Irish hype of all -the invention and collapse of " The Celtic Tiger", based on runaway inflation and a Dublin stock market bubble that aped the rise and fall of America's Nasdaq.Foster's book is a must if you wish a clearer view of the Irish .

I have read three books about the Holocaust in the last several days, 2 that are exceptional, and one that was exploitative trash. The interesting aspect is that the two works that were so emotionally effective, works that left this reader feeling the weight and oppressive horror that is genocide were both novels. They were novels by an extraordinary writer and a survivor of the camps, Mr. Aharon Appelfeld. I do not know the numbers, but I would venture to guess that the non-fiction book which is commented on somewhere on my personal page, will outsell this work 100 to one, or maybe even a higher ratio. The non-fiction work is either the appendage to a lawsuit, or the bacillus that spawned it, either way its type of history is cheap opportunism. The fact the book is full of histrionics, incompetent business documentation, and shrill sound bytes, ensures it will sell. The issue it covers is valid; it's the Author's methods I take issue with.

"The Iron Tracks", is a terribly disturbing look at one man's life to avenge the death of his parents. It is a journey he set out on alone, and one he sees through to its conclusion, again on his own. Like his main character that also survived the camps the Author writes this book because serious subjects, horrifying subjects need to be documented repeatedly. And for those who ask how many books are enough, the answer is there will never be enough, enough of this type. As to the other I refer to the answer is in its specific case, one is too many. Releasing a book within 24 hours of a lawsuit against the company the book is about is the vilest sort of marketing there is, for remember this is about the murder of millions. This is not a topic that requires marketing, Madison Avenue manipulation, and greed to drive it. The horror of Genocide is absolute the evil is absolute. To speak or write of it brings the full weight to bear no enhancements are needed.

Erwin rides the same trains endlessly for decades in search of the man and his demise that he believes will end his decades of suffering and wandering. He constantly meets with other veterans of the war who believe that the Genocide was not only correct and justified, but also actually accomplished. He traces his self described oval with his annual stops, and how the oval is chipped away at as his sharing he is a Jew is freely confided with those who have welcomed him for decades, but now turn their backs without hesitation. In his decades long hunt he also retrieves the lost objects of Judaism, be they rare illuminated Haggadah, a mezuza, or a kiddush cup.

This is only the second work I have read by Mr. Appelfeld, but based on this and, "Katerina"; I intend to continue through his published works. The subject matter he has spent his career as a writer sharing with the world's readers is the type that appropriately leaves a reader emotionally exhausted, bearing a sense of futility, and trying to summon the question why, once again.

Read both Authors' work and decide for yourself.

Aharon Appelfeld is one of the world's greatest living novelists, and this novel demonstrates his many virtues. Like his previous works "The Age of Wonders" and "The Immortal Bartfuss" it is short, it concentrates on Holocaust survivors, and its style is sparse, elliptical. Erwin Siegelbaum is in late middle age and has spent decades riding the trains in Austria. He makes his living by finding Jewish memorobillia in the now Judenrein countryside and buying them from gentiles who cannot recognize their value. It is a depressing business, since the Austrian countryside is drab, ugly, and ungenerous, even without the vicious anti-Semitism that Siegelbaum encounters. One converted Jew wishes that it could be wiped away like Sodom and Gommorah, and Siegelbaum at the end of the novel wishes that he could burn one town down to the ground. At the same time he is searching for vengeance against the Nazi officer who murdered his parents.

The legitimacy of this quest is not questioned by Siegelbaum, but by the end it is clear that it is not a sufficient or adequate solution to Siegelbaum's miserable, loveless life. What, after all is it like to avenge one parents, not in the abstract, but one's own actual parents? As in his earlier novels, there is the inevitable sickening ambiguity. His parents, Communist organizers, were not cruel to him, and they made considerable sacrifices for their cause. But they were often naive about the Ruthenians they tried to organize, they attacked Jewish capitalists, and were of course compromised by the Stalinist nature of the party. Erwin's father shortchanged his education, because he saw a normal education as an evil bourgeois plot (a view, given the nature of authoritarian Europe in the 1930s, that is not entirely inaccurate). His mother is burdened by a world-weariness that drains life from her before her death in a camp. After the war Siegelbaum encounters his parent's former Communist comrades and in his wandering he experiences the dissolution and decay of their ideals. If he is trapped by the past, others cannot be bothered to remember it (he encounters a quarter-Jew who is surprised to find out that the Old Testament did not mention Jesus.)

And so Siegelbaum rides the trains, bribing the waiter to switch the radio to the classical music station. Zionism or Orthodoxy do not bring him comfort and solace("Religious Jews frighten me"); his connection to Judaism that forced upon him by history and inertia: "My memory is a powerful machine that stores and constantly discharges lost years and faces. In the past I believed that travel would blunt my memory; I was wrong. Over the years, I must admit, it has only grown stronger. Were it not for my memory, my life would be different--better I assume." Recently however "A glass of cognac, for instance, separates me from my memory for a while. I feel relief as if after a terrible toothache."

Siegelbaum's connections to women are brief: "Love for a station or two is love without pretense and soon forgotten. Any contact beyond that pollutes the emotions and threatens to leave behind recriminations. Women, I regret to say, don't understand this. They do themselves a disservice, and me too, of course." This passage perfectly captures a certain variation of masculine bad faith. There are many other finely observed passages, whose absence of metaphor or stylistic eccentricity more sharply reveal Appelfeld's psychological acuity: "At night, before going to sleep, [my mother] would read me poems by Heine. I doubt that I understood anything. But the sounds flowed softly into my ears. I would be cut loose from the waking world and slip into deep sleep. Even in difficult times, when she grew morose, swallowing drink after drink, she would pick up a book and read, like someone preparing for better times." There is the disconcerting atmosphere of the small town of Gruendorf: "There seems to be no air like Gruendorf�s, and during my first stays here I didn�t even realize why. But now I know: it is the subtle fragrance that rises from the poppies. An odorless smell, a smell that has no obvious sign, but that directly works on the nervous system. In the past I used to flee from the place immediately, but I soon learned that flight was no use." But perhaps the supreme value of Appelfeld�s message in his not his observation, but his restatement in a uniquely subtle and unmeretricious way of a vital truth. Sacrifice may be a sign of virtue, but suffering does not make one a better person. In few other authors work is it made clear that being a victim is not enough, one has still suffered but is not redeemed thereby. "If I had a different life, it wouldn�t be happy. As in all my clear and drawn-out nightmares. I saw the sea of darkness, and I knew that my deeds had neither dedication nor beauty. I had done everything out of compulsion, clumsily, and always too late."

The translator did a remarkable job in capturing the mood of this novel. The reader is drawn into the sad, hazy and alienated world of Jewish Holocaust survivors in Europe after WWII - a world of memories, death and the insurmountable venom of anti-Semitism.

Bizarre, disturbing, compelling--a unique voice.

Bismark once noted that "war is diplomacy by other means" but Applefeld would phrase that a bit differently, I believe. Something like "Peace is war on smaller scale", perhaps.

Intrinsically, this book is about the underlying and ancient hatreds and grievances that have dogged central Europe for more than a century and were in essence not changed a whit by the war itself.

Erwin Siegelbaum's parents were killed in the Holocaust, a fate he himself barely managed to avoid. Erwin's makes his living traveling throughout central Europe visiting local fairs and markets looking for unrecognized treasures of Jewish iconography, which he buy's on the cheap and resells to rich Jewish collectors at a premium. This keeps him constantly on the road pursuing his real occupation-looking for the man who he believes is responsible for his parent's deaths so as to extract revenge.

The book is full of irony-Erwin exploits his religion and his fellow Jews for his living to pursue an avocation not altogether consistent with his religion's message of tolerance and forgiveness. He is constantly mistaken for a non-Jew and subjected to rabid anti-Semitic rants of his other passengers whom he also tries to exploit to fine his nemesis. And so on.

Applefeld is an Israeli citizen who writes in Hebrew. Even translated, the pace and mannerisms of the translation yield a sense of authenticity and Old World feel to the text. His prose is concise and spare-yet emotional and evocative at the same time. It all adds up to a very unique and original writing voice.

This is not a happy book-it is stressful, haunting and depressing. It is also insightful and compelling reading. You will finish exhausted and emotionally drained. If that's your cup of tea, then this is your novel.

I've found that lately I've been reading many books in translation, something I've rarely done outside of school. But I've discovered that when I read something really well written in translation, the book is doubly good--not only does the author deserve credit, but the translator does as well.

I've also never read an Israeli novel, or at least not one originally written in Hebrew. Perhaps because Hebrew is such a phlegmy and un-poetic (at least in my experience) language and I never thought it would translate well. I was wrong. Given the right translator it all works out ok.

From what I've read, Appelfeld was a child during the Holocaust where he saw his mother killed. Following the war he emigrated to what was then Palestine. Since then he's written quite a few novels about the Holocaust, most--or perhaps all--written in Hebrew.

The "Iron Tracks" is the first-person story of a man who has traveled Austria by train for the last forty years, beginning shortly after the end of the war. He makes his living buying Jewish antiques cheap in one town and then selling them for profit to collectors on his circuit. He lives alone, staying at various inns, and keeps his travels to a yearly schedule. His parents were Jewish communists, both of whom were killed by a Nazi soldier. Every so often our narrator will stay with friends he met in the camps, all the while planning to murder the man who killed his parents.

It's a small novel--very quiet and subdued. The language is quite spare, the dialogue even more so. But it all works and makes sense in a very disturbing and profound way. The image of one man traveling in circles, picking up the remnants of a culture destroyed is haunting. And in the end Appelfeld makes his most profound statement: ...nothing changes.

This is an amazing novel--brilliant in its style and execution, equally brilliant in its purpose.

There is something magical about Singer's writing. It is so simple, so effortless, and yet so profound. I devoured all three volumes of the Library of America Singer short stories, and have gone on to several of the novels, as well as the children's stories. I am sure I will be going back to the short stories again and again, for the rest of my life.

Every word is a jewel. Astonishing that one author can be so relentlessly energetic in his story telling. Singers knowledge, imagery and imagination is astounding. His stories dance and swirl. Not a sentence drags or is wasted. I rejoice in every moment of reading Singers literary creations - they are all vitally alive and engrossing - makes me feel that I am actually involved with what I am reading. I can't wait for the next word - better than any mystery novel. Wish I could give six stars or more. Asaf - Israel

Singer always saw himself as a storyteller. And the truth is that there are stories of his, 'Gimpel the Fool' 'The Little Shoemakers' 'The Spinoza of Market Street' 'which I believe are among the best stories ever written.
Not every story is a treasure, and I admit that there are modes of Singer's writing (When he gets too dybbuked up) that do not appeal to me, but overall what humor, what , what truth , what beauty, what pain, what suffering, , what energy , what life there are in this great great work.

The stories are great, of course. They are real stories, with plots. But since when do Library of America editions have typos? They bugged me so much that I sold it to a second-hand bookstore. It appears that Microsoft spell-check was run instead of hiring a proof-reader.

These stories are filled with hope, love, and a sense of belonging to family and to the world. They are theological but never heavy-handed; they are luminous.

Singer writes with humor, gentleness, and a fine sense of the deeper realities of life: the depth of meaning that gives hope to everyday events and ordinary people.

The best short story collection I have come across.

If you're a fan of Ballard, this is definitely worth reading. If think you may be a fan, it may be even more useful. It may seem pricey for only 176 pages, but don't be fooled: the book is 8.5" x 11" and contains a lot of material.

The book has 8 sections. Most importantly, they include Interviews, Fiction, Non-Fiction, Criticism, and a Reference section that includes a two page piece by Ballard entitled "What I believe."

The fiction section includes some things readers may have already read (Ch.1 of Crash, and a portion of the Atrocity Exhibition.) But there are other interesting short pieces that may be more difficult to find (Notes Towards a Mental Breakdown and Sixty Minute Zoom). The same can be said about the Non-Fiction section.

I think the book really shines in the first 54 pages which contain three interviews with Ballard. These early interviews (early 1980s), along with "What I believe," really give the reader a sense of what Ballard is getting at as he weaves his re-occuring theme of psychopathology throughout his novels. You get a great sense of the man and his beliefs. They give the novice Ballard fan much more insight into what exactly Ballard is getting at throughout his works, and will likely make his novels much easier to grasp.

In sum, I am very satisfied with this book. I have other Ballard products from RE Search (J.G. Ballard: Quotes and J.G. Ballard: Conversations) and have consistently been impressed with the quality of product that RE Search puts out.

RE/SEARCH PUBLICATIONS #8/9 is devoted to the work and thought and thoughtful work of one jg ballard. it is a collection of excerpts from his novels, film reviews, interviews and assorted ephemera from the science fiction meister.
if you are at all interested in the mind of a space age prophet, #8/9 is a wonderful primer.
if you are at all sympathetic to the esoteric and fabulous you should also check out RE/SEARCH PUBLICATIONS themselves for a goldmine of interesting reading.

Buy this book and read a few pages every morning. Your days will be better because if it. The man has vision, and reading his words can help you focus your own. Great book.

This book is an amazing introduction to the works of a man with great thoughts. The introductory interview contains almost too much information and opinions; it is hard to wrap your mind around. But for those of you up to the challenge, it is great reading. Ballard's fiction and non-fiction excerpts are all enticing and the biography is very interesting, giving justice to the very exciting life Ballard has lived. An excellent read for anyone interested in finding a new author, or for those who simply want to read more of Ballard's works.

This Re/Search volume includes a comprehensive bibliography and numerous interviews with Ballard, most done during the 80's. I was amazed to see an 80's interview with ballard by Grahme Ravell, who has come into fame in his own right since then. Re/Search Ballard also has numerous excerpts as well as The Atrocity Exibition in full. The volume is filled with intriguing Ballard quotes, photos and other Ballard miscellany that would surely be difficult or impossible to find anywhere else. Well packaged, informative and useful. For the Ballard fan, not the new reader.