Jamaica Kincaid Books

What is most interesting is how Ms. Cook captures the relationships of the women pictured in her photographs. You get a real sense of the proximity or the distance between family members. This book is a loving tribute to the family and would be a great gift to someone in your own.

Marianna Cook renders each family so beautifully with her camera. With words and photographs, this book beautifully chronicles women and their families. No two portraits are alike, and everyone telling of the relationships shared within each.

Accompanying each portrait are interviews of the family members, some surface, but mostly poignant revelations about the relationships that they share with one another. I know that this book will touch everyone, not just those pictured within its cover.

THE LIMITS OF AUTOBIOGRAPHY is ground-breaking in its originality and range, dramatic in its intensity and depth, and endlessly surprising in its illumination of six fictive autobiographies (SHOT IN THE HEART, WRITTEN ON THE BODY, BASTARD OUT OF CAROLINA, ANNIE JOHN, LUCY, and MY BROTHER). Leigh Gilmore weaves a thrilling variety of approaches into her interpretations. Psychoanalytic, Feminist, Post-Colonial, Post-Structuralist, Trauma and Legal theories all inform her readings but never dominate the discussion. Theoretical knowledge is elegantly integrated, rather than applied, allowing Professor Gilmore to achieve a miraculous balance in her use of language: her work will challenge scholars while remaining accessible to any curious reader. I believe this is an ideal text around which to organize an undergraduate or graduate course in the study of fiction and/or autobiography; but Leigh Gilmore's knowledge of psychology and law is so impressive this remarkable work should find its way out of traditional English departments. I hope this is the case. Her understanding of trauma and the creation of imaginative texts--"autobiographies" that break the rules of form and bear no allegiance to literal or verifiable "facts"--could change the way victims of trauma are understood and treated by legal and health care professionals. Leigh Gilmore's ability to enter and unravel each text is testimony to her compassion and wisdom--and proof of her genius. This is profund and daring work, limitless in its vision of the human heart and the hope of transformation through the redemptive power of our own imaginations.

In The Limits Of Autobiography: Leigh Gilmore (Associate Professor of English at The Ohio State University) offers astute and compelling commentaries in relation to the social and psychic forms within which selected autobiographers told their personal stories in literate and unconventional ways. The informative, thought-provoking chapters comprising this unique and highly recommended contribution to the literary study of the autobiography include: Represent Yourself; Bastard Testimony: Illegitimacy and Incest in Dorothy Allison's Bastard Out of Carolina; There Will Always Be a Father: Transference and the Auto/biographical Demand in Mikal Gilmore's Shot in the Heart; There Will Always Be a Mother: Jamaica Kincaid's Serial Autobiography; Without Names: An Anatomy of Absence in Jeanette Winterson's Written on the Body; Conclusion - the Knowing Subject and an Alternative Jurisprudence of Trauma. The Limits Of Autobiography is enhanced further for the student with a bibliography and index.

I have this book-got it at her exhibit a few years ago here in Chicago. Her photographic style is of a dreamlike quality, and while her exact method of producing her photos remains a secret, the results are breathtaking. If you can't get to one of her shows, then at least buy the book - it makes you want to escape to these lovely garden settings. One of the better scenic photographers I've seen in a while.

Black & white images of gardens from around the world. Some gardens well know, some not, but all captured in a style only this photographer brings to the world. A book that deserves to be placed where everyone can see and look through it. A book that you'll read many times, seeing something new in each photograph every time.

In BABOUK, Guy Endore continues along the same artistic heights he hit the previous year with THE WEREWOLF OF PARIS, this time turning his attention to the Haitian slave trade and the brutality of Western civilization. In reading this, it's no surprise that it was a commercial catastrophe for Vanguard Press in 1934, especially since the original jacket contained the paratextual blurb "From The Author Of THE WEREWOLF OF PARIS", obviously desperate at marketing the controversial content by associating it with the former success. The story is told from the perspective of a young slave, Babouk, and, as always, Endore does an extensive amount of research on his subject matter. This new Voices of Resistance edition (the first since '34) is excellent, with an outstanding preface and postface that place both the text and the revolution into a historical context for the reader unfamiliar with Haiti's struggle for freedom. The typeface has improved (Endore consented to having the original plates melted down to aid the war effort) and the overall design is far superior. The material is disturbing and for good reason. I highly recommend this work, not only because Endore is a brilliant storyteller, but because he relentlessly attacks Western patterns of domination and oppression at a time in history when it was incredibly unpopular to do so. The author, in a 1963 inscription, once wrote accurately: "BABOUK is my unknown masterpiece. At any rate, unknown."

Essays are perhaps the greatest literary form in history; the good ones are always a pleasure to read, the best ones touch us, arouses something deep inside in our heart and mind, and all of them are short, usually under thirty minutes to read. So, when there is an annual anthology of the best American essays, how can one resist? The entries span a wide range, from Marcus Aurelius to homosexuality to gardening. And although there is no unifying theme, all of the authors showcase the power of pure, unrestrained writing, the brilliance often missing from today's commercial periodicals

This collection of essays, authored by an impressive group of writers, is a poignant tribute to mothers everywhere. An easy read, the book is not unlike a bag of literary potato chips -- you just can't stop with the first essay. I found myself totally immersed in one story after another, till the whole book was read. I laughed some, cried a little, and marveled at the pleasant memories of mothers and grandmothers these authors were willing to share with their readers. It was awesome!

Required reading for my 16 year old son for school

Marshall's strength as an author of fiction lies in her ability to write rich, detailed characterizations. Throughout "The Chosen Place, the Timeless People," the variety of ages, races, class identities, and cultural backgrounds is woven into a fascinating narrative about a fictional Caribbean island in the early throes of multi-national post-industrial capitalism. How the characters react to these outside influences of globalization on them is the focus of the struggles: in their interpersonal relationships, in their determination to remember and re-enact the history of oppression and liberation from slavery, and in the larger struggles between nations and nationality.

As a metaphor for colonialism, this book is stunning. Harriet, the American woman who finds herself so out of place in the West Indian world, so unable to understand the "laws" by which this world operates (as seen in the arrogance she displays by taking the eggs meant for trading and making omelets for the children, which go uneaten), gets swept away by the force of a carnival crowd. She feels the power and feels the fear of that power as she falls to the ground. Without understanding, she watches the recreation of the past and senses its full force, then becomes overwhelmed by it-but she is unable to comprehend it or stop it. This representation of the local history is too much for the American to take in, and she is ultimately undone by its power. Although she never understands why, the force of this collective memory changes her life forever, and her incapacity to understand it forces her to her final end.

Merle Kinbona is one of the most memorable and interesting protagonists in all of West Indian literature. She is one of the strongest characters in all of the literature that emerged from the 1960s, and she reflects what was going on politically not only in the Caribbean, but also in the United States during that time. American social anthropologists have been sent to a West Indian island, Merle's homeland, with plans to help the residents. With this as a backdrop, Marshall explores race, politics, and cultural differences. She addresses the issues of immigrants, outsiders, and all those living outside of their cultures. Particularly effective are her portrayals of white male characters, proving that cross-race, cross-gender writing can work. The book may be too long, but the text is accessible, and the novel features a very real sense of place. Subtle and well-handled issues of homosexuality show that Marshall was, indeed, a woman ahead of her time.

I have been a big fan of Alexander Dumas ever since I first read an abridged version of The Count of Monte Cristo back in high school. I followed that up a couple of years ago with an unabridged version of the same novel, which I now consider my favorite novel of all time, and with the first two volumes of the d'Artagnan series, which is also excellent. However, I've been reluctant to start any other works by Dumas recently mainly because most are extremely long and I haven't had much free time, so I immediately one-clicked a copy of Georges once I stumbled upon this little gem. At less than 300 pages, it presented a much less imposing option versus continuing the d'Artagnan series (which I will do at some point), and I'm glad I picked it up.

Georges follows the exploits of the young mulatto Georges Munier and is set on the Ile de France, a small French (and later English) colony located in the Indian Ocean. While the population of Ile de France is racially diverse, it is not exactly tolerant, as the economy is based upon slavery and the large mulatto (and other free non-white) population can never achieve the upper echelon of society (can't marry a white woman, can't attend certain social events, can't march with the white regiments into battle, etc.). Georges, after his father sends him to Europe as a young teenager in order to complete his education, returns to Ile de France as a young man in his twenties in order to undertake the Quixotic task of eradicating prejudice from the island - a task which he is determined to either accomplish or die trying.

I won't get into the plot in any more detail in order to avoid spoiling any of it, but the novel is very enjoyable, although it could have used a bit more swashbuckling action. The characters are well crafted, with the vindictive young Georges very much resembling the somewhat more developed Edmond Dantes (Georges was released one year before The Count, and from reading both I get the impression Dumas experimented with the character in Georges before perfecting and recasting it as Dantes, although for all I know the release dates may not coincide with the timing of when the bulk of each was written, so I could be completely wrong). Georges' character doesn't quite achieve the depth of the excellent Dantes or d'Artagnan, but that's a given due to the much shorter length of this novel. The real antagonist isn't a man but rather an idea (prejudice), and Dumas does a good, though not quite perfect, job of personifying this via the characters it embodies.

The translation, in my opinion, is pretty good. I don't speak French and haven't read any other translations of this work so I can't give a very good review of the translation, other than to say it is easy to read yet for the most part it doesn't lose too much of the "feel" of the 19th century French speaking civilization. The writing itself isn't quite as enthralling as some of the other Dumas works I've read, although I can't say whether this is due to the translation or the original work.

In short - if you haven't yet discovered Dumas, read The Count of Monte Cristo or The Three Musketeers (in unabridged form!). If, on the other hand, you're already familiar with Dumas' writing and are merely wondering whether Georges lives up to the standards of his better known works, or if you don't have the guts to undertake a 1,000+ page tome, then I would whole heartedly recommend picking this up. For the latter group, reading Georges is by far a preferable option to reading an abridged (read: gutted) version of one of his longer works.

In my opinion, Georges isn't *quite* as good as the two works mentioned elsewhere in this review, but it's pretty damn good nonetheless. If half stars were allowed I'd give Georges 4.5 stars, as I consider it excellent though not quite perfect.

Wow, what a great, exciting book! Love, betrayal, duels, revenge! Sea battles and hurricanes and slave riots! I read the whole book in one sitting. I liked it even more than The Three Musketeers. A must-read!

I enjoyed this book very much! The translation was perfect, not an emotion or imaginary description was lost. This is a perfect lesson on tolerance, an old story with a timely message. A Must READ!!!

Hunter Thompson may be gone, but personal journalism is alive and well as evidenced by this superlative collection of quirky,elegant pieces subtitled, "Adventures in the City". If Ian Frazier's book were a mystery, #1 would probably have posted a five-star review the day after it was published in November 2005. Since GONE TO NEW YORK is only a collection of casual essays, it has waited four months for its first customer review. Essays get no respect from Amazon customers -- or from Amazon either, for that matter. Amazon's entry for the book lists Jamaica Kincaid (who wrote the introduction) as the author, rather than Frazier.

Frazier, a displaced Ohioan, makes the reader see New York through his eyes: focusing on peculiar and interesting details that go unnoticed by visitor and native alike. The longest is a 35 page profile of Canal Street (where he lived during its gritty years) and its denizens. In the aftermath of 9-11 he interviews George Willig, who earned brief celebrity-hood in 1977 by climbing one of the twin towers. Frazier reports on the vintage graffiti on desks in the stacks of Butler Library. He writes twice about "Bags in Trees". In the first he simply describes the diversity of plastic bags and other items that adorn trees in Brooklyn. A decade latter he tells how he and a friend became obsessed with removing the arboreal litter and end up inventing and patenting an extension tool for removing it. My favorite in the collection is "Typewriter Man" about Martin Tytell, who still sevices manual typewriters.

The New York in Woody Allen's movies is beautiful but unreal, like a movie star who's never as stunning in real life as on screen. Ian Frazier's New York, on the other hand, is violent and dirty, but real.

These essays are arranged chronologically, from 1975 to 2005. (Oddly, there are no entries from the eighties.) Frazier writes about neighborhoods and bars and shops and characters. There are floods and robberies and murders.

One of my favorite pieces is about a typewriter repair shop that Frazier finds when he needs his manual typewriter repaired. The owner, Mr. Tytell was one of the few typewriter repairmen left as word processors and then computers replaced typewriters. The article was written in 1997 and the 83 year-old owner had just renewed the lease on his shop for another ten years. Since ten years has passed, I was curious if the shop was still in business. A quick search revealed that the shop went out of business in 2001, but the family still has a successful document research service, doing forensic investigations of typewritten papers. No word on whether Frazier still uses a typewriter to write his essays.

There are three pieces about Frazier's obsession with removing plastic bags from trees. This apparently is not a specifically New York obsession since he mentions trips to Los Angeles and Massachusetts and Illinois to remove bags from trees. When he first wrote about bags in trees, it didn't seem completely odd to me that he might remove bags in his own neighborhood. You want your neighborhood to look nice, don't you? But it became more of a sport for him and his buddies. They snagged bags instead of golfing. I suppose the fact that I read three pieces about bag snagging is testimony to Frazier's writing. I sure wouldn't have read three articles about golfing. And it's a lesson for the young writers out there -- if you can't find a quirky character to write about, become one.

This book is a collection of her earlier anonymous columns for 'The New Yorker.' They were written in 70's and early 80's, so the subjects are old. For instance, Sting (and the Police) and Boy George (and Culture Club) were gaining popularity in the book. But she already established her crisp and dynamic and music-like prose style. It's my pleasure to read her candid and sometimes sarcastic comments about snobs. It's my pleasure to read her stories about her native country, Antigua, and her parents. She wrote the stories as her friend's stories (remember that those were anonymous columns), but they were of her own prose style.

I read all of her books, and I don't like much her previous book, 'My Garden,' but I enjoyed 'Talk Stories.'

Jamaica Kincaid describes, in her terrific Introduction, her beginnings as a writer in New York in the '70's. She made a few great friends, and one brought her to the attention of William Shawn, beloved and legendary editor of the 'New Yorker.' He invited to submit short pieces. That magazine, which Kincaid points out was "a magazine that has since gone out of business, though there exists now a magazine by that name," was her home for over ten years. Kincaid's brief acid note and comment introduces an unignorable subtext: there existed a deeply valued and memorable world, now gone.

These pieces were Kincaid's apprenticeship in writing. They are a pleasure to read.

All were unsigned (giving writers a freedom she valued) when they first appeared in the magazine. Here they are arranged chronologically. If you are new to Jamaica Kincaid's mind and writing, they are a great introduction. If you are familiar with her amazing novels (or gardening essays for that matter) they are fresh, many are very funny, and all are examples, in varying ways, of how to write.

Great book.