New York Books

Finishing this the second book in The Bronze Horseman Trilogy by Paulina Simons- is no small feat. A 500+ page tome- it's no light read. (By the way, here in the states, the second novel in the trilogy is titled Tatiana and Alexander- but most elsewhere in the world, it's Bridge to Holy Cross.) But finish I did and loved every minute of it!

If you've never read The Bronze Horseman and its sequels- it's a sweeping epic that harkens back to the days of the mini-series: think The Winds of War and The Thornbirds. The first in the series, The Bronze Horseman, is set in Leningrad during WW2. The book literally takes you through the gamut of emotions before leaving you with the two main characters, Tatiana and Alexander, separated- one facing torture and uncertain death at the hands of the precursor to the KGB and the other suffering TB while interned at the hospital of Ellis Island.

Tatiana and Alexander begins there, but it also takes you back and tells you Alexander's story- something which we didn't get as much of in TBH. Alexander has all the qualities I LOVE in a hero. Noble, strong, and totally in love with his woman. So much so he resists temptations of the nubile flesh thrown at him while separated from Tatiana, and it's his love for her, and perhaps a touch of fate, that keeps him alive. They simply couldn't break him. He was brought low, yet he stayed strong. This mix of humility and strength never fails to hook me. I have to say, he's got to be one of my all time favorite heroes- and I can't believe I forgot that till now!

Tatiana is just as perfect. She makes her way to a new land, thinking her husband and the love of her life lost to her and then gave birth alone to his son. Yet, when she discovers a scrap of hope that he IS alive, she is willing to give up all to find him. (These books are SO romantic.)

The second book brought it all back and I think it's just as good as the first- though in a different way. It's not about these two together like in TBH, it's about who they are apart AND together. Excellent read, once again.

Another great book by Paulinna Simons! She never disappoints. If you have read others, read this one!

WOW, In 2001, I read the first book in this series (only I didn't know it was the first in a series until recently). I was incredibly moved by the love stoty in The Bronze Horseman and absolutely loved the characters. I was disappointed when it ended. For years, I checked to see if a sequel was out and after a while, forgot to check. A few months ago I discovered that Tatiana and Alexander was available and when it arrived in the mail, it was like a "bronze" gift. This book has a different writing syle but still filled me with more insight and stories of these two strong and resilient characters. It's one of those books that my family knows to "leave me alone when I'm reading" or else!
Can't wait to read the final book in the series.

I read this series in order. First is "The Bronze Horseman", second is this book "Tatiana & Alexander", and third is "The Summer Garden." They are all very long books. All three are exceptional!!! I laughed, I cried, I loved the couple like they were my personal friends. You really need to read them in order or else the sequels will bring up lots of questions/confusion. The Bronze Horseman is obviously open-ended leading to the sequel. You could read the second one, Tatiana & Alexander and stop there because it isn't obvious that there's a sequel. But I recommend the last one, The Summer Garden, because it is soooo good. I don't know when I got into a series more. Highly, highly recommended!!!!

In this melodramatic, epic sequel to "The Bronze Horseman", Paullina Simons follows Tatiana and Alexander after their parting when Alexander is presumed dead, and pregnant Tatiana escapes to America via Finland and Sweden. Love and war are the two main motifs here and the story focuses more on Alexander, than on Tatiana (who was the central character in "The Bronze Horseman"), although the action goes back and forth between these two protagonists. Additionally, the time and space constraints do not apply (as opposed to "The Bronze Horseman" where the rules of chronology applied, here the narration is non-linear) - the action jumps freely between the past, when Alexander is a boy and a teenager, and present, when he struggles during the war as a prisoner and soldier, and between Alexander's journey from Russia to Germany, and Tatiana's life in the New York City with their baby son, Anthony.

The novel begins in Boston, in the 1930s, when Alexander's parents, the Barringtons, make the crucial decision to emigrate to the Soviet Union and renounce the American citizenship. This was already mentioned in "The Bronze Horseman", but here Alexander's family life and childhood in the Soviet Union are described in grisly detail. The disappointment with Communism and subsequent deterioration of the family shape Alexander into the tough, secretive man, living only for himself, desperate to survive, running away into the steppe and finally to Leningrad, where he becomes an officer in the Red Army - until he meets Tatiana and the love for her turns his life upside down. Alexander survives Soviet prison and interrogations, the work with the prisoners' battalion, the escape with the soldiers under his command through ruined Poland, running away from the ruthless, deathly Stalinist system, and the prisoners' camp in Germany, although he is starving, wounded and physically at the end of his capability. On his way, he meets Tatiana's long lost twin brother, only to lose him again, and tests the friendship and the military fidelity and discipline.

Tatiana in America holds to the strange, unexplainable belief, that in Europe torn apart by the war she can find her husband, although everyone believes him dead. All her efforts are directed only towards this goal, To reunite with Alexander, she overcomes unbelievable obstacles and, of course, they are finally reunited and move to Arizona (I hope this is not a spoiler, since it is the ending to be expected in such novel, isn't it?)... So that their story can be continued in the last part of the trilogy, "The Summer Garden", which I cannot wait to read.

Surely, the ending in Arizona is a little absurd (although, who knows, maybe it was possible then), as well as all the coincidences that bring Tatiana and Alexander together. When the novel is read as a romance, it is pretty old-fashioned (rare nowadays in the tradition of "Gone With the Wind", "Doctor Zhivago" or "The Blue Bicycle"), and no doubt, delivers its promise and is a material for a great movie. For me, the highest value of "Tatiana and Alexander" is in the fabularized background and descriptions of the reality of the Soviet life in the hardest period of the 1930s, the spies and moles, the interrogation methods. Paullina Simons was born in Leningrad, in the dissident family. Her parents and grandparents, heavily stricken by the Communist regime and the war, escaped to the US in 1973, when Paullina was 10, so probably she has some first-hand information about the times, which she faithfully portraited in her novels.

For me--raised on Sherlock Holmes--this novel, first published 1968, is not a detective novel in which morality or heroism triumphs, or in which the hero is able to think his way out. When Conan Doyle invented his hero, he was writing within the context of a moral Victorian society in which Holmes's kind of detective work was able to triumph over perpetrators, or at least able to rationalize his own faults. But the world Sciascia shows us is one in which the police remain silent, and those who inquire and question are punished. Sciascia gives us an intelligent, inquisitive high school teacher, Professor Laurana--not a Sherlock Holmes--but, as a learned and well-meaning man, he is an engaging main character. What sort of society is it in which sensitive, inquisitive people are devalued and ignored?

Professor Laurana's questioning opens doors and others shut. And in a town in which people teach each other to keep quiet, we have to wonder what is being taught. It seems that this society is reduced to primitive survival instincts. Only someone like Laurana can break the vicious circle of crime, but Laurana's emotional vulnerability--his sensitivity to literature--is considered a fault. There are clearly characters who do not like anyone asking questions. And there are two characters who are philosophical and analytical, but their ability to understand human psychology disables Laurana's investigation. It's as though too much belief in moral ambiguity can stop a criminal investigation.

While this novel is a comment on Italian or Sicilian society and politics of the 1960s, this setting could be anywhere in the world. We all must be vigilant that through silence and acquiescence, our world does not become like the one Sciascia shows us.

This short novel (158 pages) has so much wonderful, nuanced writing that virtually every page is enjoyable in and of itself. One Amazon reviewer called "To Each His Own" postmodernist, but it also seems reminiscent at times of 19th Century writing that is more character insightful than plot driven. Sicilian master, Leonardo Sciascia, certainly does provide a plot in this novel - an inexplainable double homicide begins the story, followed by the slow accumulation of clues leading to the unlocking of the mystery by a hapless bystander, who reveals his revelations despite himself. The cautious innocent ultimately wanders into the killers' crosshairs betrayed by his own lust and the quiet complicity of the entire community. And it's lust that author Sciascia suggests is at the bottom of everything in the Sicilian town that is the novel's setting.

This is a highly literate and entertaining read that will encourage most readers to seek out other titles by this terrific author.

This book is a well written mystery. The author sets the crime out before you right at the beginning and gives many leads for you to try and draw your own conclusions. His style of writting is very different, but very interesting. It is the type of book that you must continue to read to find out what the ending is about.

Having read "To Each His Own" (or rather, "Il ciascuno il suo") twice, once in Italian and once in English, I find that each time I found new interesting nuances.

Rich, ambiguous characters fill the novel and leaves one wondering who is considered intelligent and who is considered an idiot in Sicilian terms. It also leaves one wondering what exactly is the crime: the killer or the one that deems himself the investigator? Is it the one who deals in politics or the one breaking the law of "omerta"?The novel explores the mafiosi as an institution, as a family, what it is in the government, the church, the peasant village.

Sciascia's novel is a page-turner for both those who want an easy read detective thriller and also for those wanting to dig deeper into the story's message.

The basic principles of right are: to live honorably, not to harm any other person, to render to each his own." Digest of the Emperor Justinian.

The Latin phrase "suum cuique tribuere" or "to each his own" is one of the three fundamental maxims of the law laid down by the Emperor Justinian. The peculiar interpretation of that phrase in Sciascia's native Sicily forms the emotional core of his brilliant "To Each His Own."

"To Each His Own" begins with a double-murder. A local pharmacist, Manno, receives a death threat in the mail, compiled with words and letters cut and pasted from a newspaper. The pharmacist laughs it off. He considers the letter to be a joke and although these threats are usually taken seriously in his town, Manno leads a blameless life and simply cannot believe anyone intends him harm. So he goes off hunting the next day with his friend Dr. Roscio and, without further ado, both Manno and Roscio are shot dead in the woods.

A police investigation follows but it is doomed to go nowhere. Sciascia paints a very explicit portrait of a society in which everyone knows (or suspects) everything but says nothing, certainly not to the local police. The general consensus (on the surface) seems to be that Manno was killed by a jealous husband and Roscio was an innocent bystander. The matter would have ended there but for the curious intercession of Professor Laurana. Laurana is a history and Italian teacher at the local liceo (high school). He walks into the pharmacy where the police are reading the anonymous letter and quickly spots a clue. The police dismiss his information out of hand. Laurana, however, driven by what appears to be no more than a desire to solve a puzzle, decides to follow up on the clue. In short order he seems to have solved the mystery. Laurana is oblivious to the fact that his musings on the crime pose more of a threat to the murderers than a typical local police investigation. Events play out to their natural conclusion, and in Sciascia's Sicily natural conclusions are not quite so neat and tidy as say in Agatha Christie's parlor room England.

The enjoyment to be found in reading "To Each His Own" is not the mystery itself. The fact of the matter is that, for Sciascia, solving a mystery doesn't require great insight. Rather, it simply requires a willingness to actually see that which is self-evident. As blind as Laurana may be to the danger he puts himself in, he can see well enough to understand why Manno and Roscio were murdered and who murdered them. Laurana's problem is not that he knows more than anyone else in town, Sciascia makes it clear that the actual events do not seem a surprise to anyone. No, Laurana's problem is that unlike everyone else in town, he doesn't bother to hide his knowledge.

Sciascia's writing is both precise and enjoyable. He seems to have a keen eye and affection for his native place, but that affection does not diminish, but likely enhances, the despair he feels for a culture in which silence is golden and in which "to each his own" does not bring to mind Roman traditions of equity but, rather, the critical importance of minding ones own business. "To Each His Own" is a cynical, but highly-entertaining piece or work.

Highly recommended. L. Fleisig

Mr. Yagoda presents the results of his exhaustive research with clarity and style. It's a compelling story and makes a great companion to the Kunkel books on Ross. I particularly enjoyed learning more about Shawn and the Shawn years at the NYer, since many of my favorite writers were nurtured under his watch. The best one-book history of the NYer I know of.

Disclaimer: I love The New Yorker. I have been a dedicated subscriber for ten years (and I am only twenty-six), and I read the magazine for years before subscribing under my own name.

Given my disclaimer, perhaps my five-star rating is self-evident. But not necessarily: As a lover of the magazine, I approached this text skeptically. I was interested in an unbiased review, yes, but likely I would have been wounded by a wholeheartedly negative portrayal.

Yagoda loves TNY even more than I do, if that's possible, yet he truthfully approaches his biography of the magazine. The ugliest facts are laid bare, but in a sympathetic whole.

TNY writers, editors, and staff members are lovingly recreated; Yagoda writes so well that I felt I knew these people, I understood these people, and I physically missed them after turning the last page. Like others who have reviewed this book, I wanted more--more, more, more. I felt astonished and sad to have finished the book. Were it a novel, I'd beg for a sequel, even knowing that sequels rarely live up to the original. Even a second-best second-tome would be better than missing the people and the institution that this book brings to life.

Admittedly, TNY readers will love this book vastly more than those unacquainted with its pages. However, if you are even beginning to approach the magazine, you must read this book. You will understand the weekly journal better than you do now, and you will appreciate it far more. I certainly do.

Bravo, Yagoda!

There are at least two ways to view Ben Yagoda's book ABOUT TOWN: 1) as the history of The New Yorker Magazine, how it was conceived and developed and changed over time, and 2) as a social document reflecting its times. The subtitle of the book "and the World it Made" does not seem quite as accurate unless one considers that "world" to be the corporate culture created by the staff led by Ross and Shawn, the two longtime editors who built the magazine. The New Yorker certainly has influenced the world within which it existed along with many other magazines.

Harold Ross, the founder and first editor of the magazine, with the help of Katherine and E.B.White, Thurber, Dorothy Parker, and many other fine editors and writers launched the magazine in the 1920s. The sophisticated and literary focus of the magazine soon captured the fancy of New Yorkers. During the hard days of the depression the magazine actually gained subscribers as readers enjoyed the humorous repartee and cartoons that helped them laugh at their troubles. Many new readers learned of the magazine during WWII as it was handed around the barracks. The GI bill produced many educated readers who remembering their wartime contact with the magazine now subscibed to it. Following WWII, the magazine included more and more "social conscience" articles, for example, John Hershey's essay on "Hiroshima."

Ross died in the early 1950s, and during the fifties under the editorship of William Shawn, the magazine became relatively banal according to Yagoda who says it appealed to stay-at-home wives who enjoyed articles that reminded them of their college days (among other pieces, Mary McCarthy's tales of her Italian travels were featured). In the 1960s, the magazine once again became more vocal about social issues and the environment.

Yagoda says the best years of the magazine came in the 1970s when writers like Woody Allen wrote wonderful wacky pieces and investigative journalists covered the scandals in
Washington. Following a downturn in subscriptions in 1980s, the magazine was purchased by a media mogul and William Shawn departed. With Tina Brown's arrival, the magazine metamorphed into a Conde Nast publication. Garrison Keillor's comments about Brown's arrival (as he left) are amusing.

Over the years, I have read John Updike, Alice Munro, Jamaica Kincaid, Katherine White, and many of the writers who once wrote for the New Yorker. When I was a child, my mother used to quote Dorothy Parker regularly ("Rivers are damp..."), but I had no idea Parker wrote for The New Yorker until years later (we lived in a rural area and subscribed to the Progressive Farmer!!). When I read Rachel Carson's SILENT SPRING, it changed my life, but I read it in book form when it was first published as a Book of the Month Club selection. I only became aware of The New Yorker magazine when I was in my thirties and a college writing instructor suggested it. Yagoda says many people discovered the magazine when they were students.

As a social document, The New Yorker articles very much reflect the times, and to some extent, at least under Ross, the magazine seemed to be ahead of the times. In reading this book, I was reminded of National Public Radio, which seems to be the main innovator in broadcast journalism these days--though I am told there are all sorts of happenings on the Internet. The in-depth news stories, the essays by various knowledgeable citizens, the political commentaries and Garrison Keilor are all comparable to The New Yorker magazine.

If you are interested in a snapshot of the 20th Century from an educated New Yorker magazine perspective, or in writing and magazine development in general, you will find much of interest in this book. The tales concerning the origins of many innovative features of the magazine are quite good.

Yagoda suggests the magazine pretty much ended with Shawn's departure in the late 1980s. He devotes eight pages at the end of the book to the three editors who followed Shawn. He says the median age of the readership grows older every year (not replacing subscribers) and most of current readership as such is owing to the retention of loyal readers. He quotes some of these readers who no longer actually read the magazine but have not given up their subscriptions. His book goes a long way toward explaining to me why I dropped my subscription a few years ago.

"About Town", by Ben Yagoda chronicles the majority of the 80+ years, "The New Yorker", has been contributing its unique journalistic culture to everyone, including, "The old lady in Debuque". Mr. Yagoda's book stands out from many books that have been offered to readers about the magazine for while he certainly is aware of the contributions the magazine has made for over 8 decades; he does not seem to be in awe of it or the people to the point it affects his writing. He clearly admires the magazine, but this does not stop his including a wealth of information that documents the eccentric personalities that shaped the magazine. Some may not find the notes flattering, but he objectively shows some of the magazines famous quirks without committing the blasphemy of a young Thomas Wolfe.

The list of writers who either became major or occasional contributors, reads like an amalgam of winners of the highest literary awards that have been offered. The list of those names repeatedly rejected expands the list even further. The book contains dozens of examples of the famous rejection letters that often are almost apologetic about turning down a piece of work while always writing in the first person plural. Having a piece selected by, "The New Yorker", was often considered the ultimate indicator that a new writer had arrived, that he or she had entered the pantheon of the magazine's literary legends. This was true even if the work accepted for publication may not have appeared for months, or even several years. The reception of the envelope stating a writer's work had been admitted was all many authors needed to have their work given unique value and cachet, publication was a bonus.

Mr. Yagoda also spends a good amount of his book on the cartoons, their artists, and the painful process that started with an idea only to have to run a gauntlet to be published. As hard as this path may have been, the scrutinizing that a written piece received is almost beyond imagining. It is understandable that first time contributors would have their worked scoured and polished, but when some of the 20th Century's finest writers nearly drew blood over commas the action within the building must have been spectacular. There is a story of one writer who sat outside the editor's office for almost 5 hours over the issue of a single comma. This World War I trench warfare standoff continued until the early hours of the next morning. The editor capitulated, but noted to the writer, "you are still wrong".

The story of this fascinating magazine could fill many volumes. If your starting place for gathering an overview of this institution, its editors, staff and writers, is this book, you will have chosen very well. Mr. Yagoda has written a great tribute to those he has chronicled.

There are two types of writers: those who aspire, no, dream of being published in the "New Yorker", and those who, after several rejections, bitterly deride the very institution they hoped to conquer. I am solidly of the first camp, though give it a few years and I might be a latter-day grouch.

The work of Ben Yagoda brings the magazine alive, from the heyday of such luminaries as Thurber and White to the tough war years, right up through the Shawn era and even right up to (for 1999) the present. Through it all, Yagoda examines the many lives who devoted themselves to this literary exercise in humor and good faith. The most compelling character studies, however, are the two main editors throughout the magazine's history, Harold Ross and William Shawn.

Ross, who founded the magazine in 1925 and managed it through its first twenty-six years, comes across as a gruff, thoroughly Western man who nonetheless saw the need for a magazine like "The New Yorker", and brought it to being through sheer will and fortitude. He also happened to publish significant works by James Thurber, E.B. White, and J.D. Salinger among others. Shawn, taking the reins after Ross's death in 1951, saw the magazine through 30+ years of challange and triumph, only to be forced out in 1987. Throughout the book, Yagoda makes these men the central focus of his tale, but he includes brief looks at literary and other lights of the twentieth century, some who did get published (like Donald Barthleme, Veronica Geng, and John Updike) and some who didn't (Tom Wolfe, whose scandelous expose on the magazine shook it out of its fuddiness).

Overall, the book looks fondly back at the magazine's past, with a hint that it might never reach the same heights of importance it once had. That may very well be, but there's still something to be said for a magazine that is such an institution no one could imagine starting a writing career without considering the possibility of submitting to it.

"The New Yorker" is still the premier magazine in America, and this book explains why, after almost a century, it still carries the weight it does.

This was the first Adrian Mole book I read. I loved it! I went on to read all the others, and still think this one was among the three best ones.

Is it the last volume of the Adrian Mole saga? Of course not. I doubt it very much. There is no end to a good recipe, a ratatouille or a beef and kidney pie. But we'll see. This volume is extremely interesting. For our Adrian Mole is still Adrian Mole. He is naïve and he is sending to us a very simple-minded vision of the world that is absolutely disarming - a must with the title we know - in naivety and vanity. This vain naivety or naïve vanity is his trademark and it is marvelously refreshing. It could probably not break a man's arm, but it can break, even smash, a man's despair. And this here volume is still a perfect example, at the age of 35, nearly middle-aged, of this entertaining village philosopher from Leicester. The book is also fascinating because we are in 2002-2004 and the central problem is the war on Iraq and Blair's support, till the day when he acknowledges there were no WMDs. The political question is systematically shown through the opinions of various people. Adrian is pro-Blair and he supports his own son when he is sent to Iraq, though he is frightened by the prospect of his son's death for and with no cause, and actually the son's best friend is killed by shrapnel. Pandora is against the war and she resigns from Blair's government. And between the two we find all kinds of shades. The dramatic dimension of the problem is strong because of the son's position in the armed forces. At the same time the book criticizes all kinds pf shortcomings of Blair's policy and of capitalistic greed. Adrian and his father are confronted to the National Health Service, and Adrian is suddenly thrown into bankruptcy by greedy banks and various store- or credit-card providers as well as by his vain desire to live over his means. The book is also fascinating because of the love life or rather non-love and/versus love lives of Adrian. He finds himself trapped by a false pregnancy and ends with a real third child born in love. Finally the book is fascinating because of the numerous vignettes it provides on various characters and situations: the independent bookseller, the local would-be or wanna-be writer, the protection of Her Majesty's swans, the Koran, Chinese restaurants, baby-boomers, vegetarian or bio-friendly people, etc... There you feel a high level of irony, humor, sarcasm, and that is so English, so brilliantly English.

Dr Jacques COULARDEAU, University Paris Dauphine, University Paris 1 Pantheon Sorbonne & University Versailles Saint Quentin en Yvelines

I was in high school (in London) when the original "Adrian Mole" books came out. In fact, we read them in English, went to London's West End to see the play etc etc. The books were original. The sequels worked, at least for a while and I don't believe that there is anyone who was a teenager in the UK in the 1980s who doesn't remember Adrian Mole.

It was by chance I came across this latest addition to the collection while browsing in a very well-known bookstore. I was further surprised to find it here in the US. I'd always thought that the situations and characters were very "English" and wouldn't translate well. Besides, I'd read the original book as a teen, so why buy this one? But the book was on sale so I picked it up...and devoured it, quite literally and found that Adrian had grown up too.

Adrian is now in his 30's. He's a little more worldly-wise but still has the air of "naive nerd" about him that we knew two decades ago. Ms. Townsend has worked in all the characters from books past so, if you're looking for a little trip down memory lane, welcome back. Pandora, Adrian's only true love is now a successful politician, his mother and father...heck even Nigel is back!

The political overtones are there for all to see and the author makes no attempt to hid them. The book is titled "Adrian Mole and the Weapons of Mass Destruction" and the underlying current in the book is Adrian's devotion, continually tested and challenged to "New Labour" and Tony Blair. He firmly believes that the "coalition" will find the WMDs as they prepare to invade Iraq. Perhaps this undertone is a reflection of Ms. Townsend's personal beliefs. In previous books she brought current events and figures into play and relevent as part of the background. In this book, she seems to be trying to make a bigger statement, while "keeping it funny" and I'm not sure it works this time because it's a little too close to be comfortable.

However, that doesn't detract from the story. I was pleasantly surprised to find myself chuckling as I reminisced with an old friend who I'd left in the UK many years ago. I found that I wasn't out-of-touch and many of the stereotypes, situations and characters were as relevant today as they were back then.

If you're an A.M. fan then you should definitely read this one. It's nice to find a book you don't have to think too hard about.

So, why only 3 stars? Because it's an "okay" book. Perhaps I'm being a little harsh, but I don't think I'd have bought it if it weren't on sale. Maybe I'm not such a great friend after all...

Dave

Adrian Mole and the Weapons of Mass Destruction by Sue Townsend was one of those library books that attracted me due to the quirky title and unusual cover. Having no background with Townsend's work or any other Mole novels, I really didn't know what to expect. What I found was an incredibly funny English novel that I was unable to put down until I was finished.

Adrian Mole is a 34 year old single guy living with his parents and working in a second-hand bookstore. He has a couple kids by different women, but the relationships didn't work out in the long run. In order to live the style of life he envisions for himself, he buys a flat on Rat Wharf and proceeds to spend himself into an incredible crushing load of debt using credit cards. His life starts to spiral downhill when he dates a mousey "organic" lady by the name of Marigold Flowers. Her parents are into "natural living" to the extreme, and he quickly figures out that this is not the family and lady he wants. But he has a hard time saying no, and pretty soon he's engaged to be married to a woman he doesn't love and that is apparently with child. To complicate issues further (as if they weren't already warped), he's madly in love with Marigold's sister, a fashionable public relations woman who is as wild as Marigold is sedate. He knows what he needs to do, and everyone else can see what he should be doing. But knowing and doing are separated by an ever-widening gap...

This story is told in diary fashion, with Mole writing in the first person. In many ways, it's like watching a reality TV show. Mole has a much more important view of himself than what really is the case, and it's a hoot watching the train wreck unfold. There are a number of current event themes running through the couple of years covered by the diary, mainly centered around the start of the Iraq war. I'm sure having a good grasp of British life would make a few of the things more clear to this American reader, but it really doesn't matter. It was all too funny and felt all too real...

My next step is to check out the first four Adrian Mole novels... If they are anything like this, I'll be losing a couple more weekends to these pages.

Firstly I wanted to clarify for people that might want to know, exactly how this series runs. I have bought and read all the books in the Adrian Mole series and I was dissappointed not to find anywhere to tell me which ones to get. So as a result I have them all.

US Versions
The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole Aged 13 3/4
The Growing Pains of Adrian Mole
Adrian Mole: The Lost Years
Adrian Mole: The Cappuccino Years
Adrian Mole and the Weapons of Mass Destruction

British Versions
The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole Aged 13 3/4
The Growing Pains of Adrian Mole
True Confessions of Adrian Albert Mole
Adrian Mole: From Minor To Major
Adrian Mole: The Wilderness Years
Adrian Mole: The Cappuccino Years
Adrian Mole and the Weapons of Mass Destruction


So, as for the review these books are great. I love the entire series and I just couldn't stop reading them all the way to the end. The one thing I might suggest is to keep in mind that with most series of books the first is always the best, which is probably the case here too, but if you like it and are a fan of Adrian Mole, there is no reason why you wouldn't want to read the rest.

I like the fact that is it written in diary form for easy reading and it is very clever how the story is told from the point of view of Adrian himself but you can see things about his life that he cannot.

Overall an excellent read for all ages from teen to adult.

First off, How I Paid for College has become one of my favorite books and my go-to pick-me-up when the real world gets a little too...stressful. I was very excited to hear that a sequel comes out and read it as soon as it came out. Attack of the Theater People was great fun and featured the same characters I knew and loved from the original (plus a few more new ones), but didn't quite live up to my expectations.

The book opens with Edward getting kicked out of Juilliard, which comes as a shock after all the hard work he put into getting there in HIPFC. What follows is a somewhat contrived series of events that lead him to become a "party motivator" on the bar mitzvah/corporate cicuit, where he meets the handsome Chad, who convinces him to gather inside information on the job. Eventually, of course, everything falls apart, amid crazy 13-year-old stalkers; more sexual tension with Doug, the former football-star-turned-Bruce-Springsteen-impersonator; Paula, who shows up as a different method-acting character every month; geeky Natie with crazy illegal schemes; and lots and lots of musical theater.

Overall, I found the book a little meandering at first, and Willow, one of the new characters, seems more like a plot device than an actual human being. However, Marc Acito really seemed to come into his own again once everything came crashing down midway through the book. I found myself completely unable to put it down until I had finished, with a huge grin on my face. (Spoiler alert: Edward finally gets some action from another guy!) If you are a fan of the first book, this one is definitely worth it; if you haven't read How I Paid for College, you should start there; if you're looking for something serious, go read something else.

Marc Acito is nothing short of a genius. He has an intelligent, witty writing style that so few authors can pull off because he never sounds like he is trying too hard.

If you haven't read his first novel, How I Paid for College, I suggest you start there before reading this book. It contains the same characters and is just as great (this book will also make more sense if you read College first).

This book is absolutely hilarious and I am so pleased he wrote something else. All the characters are completely loveable and you never stop rooting for Edward. I will spare you the plot summary, but suffice to say this book is well worth the $11 and will keep you laughing time and again.

One of the book reviewers said of How I Paid for College that one hopes there is more where this came from. Well, they got their wish and I certainly hope there is more where Attack of the Theater People came from also.

It leaves you craving for more, just like the first book did. Clever, fun, and masterfully filled with the unexpected.

Two thumbs with arms included up!

From the first page, you never have a chance to wander from the antics of great characters tap dancing around hilarious trials and disasters of their own making. This book delivers on the promise of "How I paid for college" and kicks higher.

Edward Zanni is a gay 20 year old aspiring actor, who is thrown out of drama school for being ... well ... too dramatic. With his professor's advice to "experience life" for a year, then reapply, he takes a series of strange jobs, ranging from personal office assistant to a sadistic tyrant, to a host for preteen parties (masquerading as a Brit host of the UK's version of MTV, which doesn't exist), as an usher at a Broadway theatre, and as a party facilitator for fancy corporate events. In the context of that last one, Edward gets involved in an insider trading scandal, feeding overheard conversations about companies to a securities broker he develops a serious crush on.

Although Acito provides enough background info for this to stand on its own, this is essentially a sequel to his hilarious "How I Paid For College," and is best enjoyed if you read that other book first. Back are his colorful friends, including the conniving, nerdish Natie, the outgoing student thespian Kelly, and Edward's straight-but-not-narrow (and soooo hunky) crush, Doug (who is now headlining a Bruce Springsteen cover band.) Like that first book, "..Theatre People" is a delightfully "over the top" comedy of errors, involving the Shah of Iran, a 13 year old stalker, the SEC, a high speed chase across a Broadway stage, a politically charged staging of "The Music Man," posing as a dead man to rent an apartment, the wrath of Edward's insane stepmother, and a flamboyant wardrobe designer known as Hung (That's a name, not an adjective!)

Suspend all normal channels of belief, and hang on for the ride! Five "jazz hands" (stars) out of five!

Due to ever degrading literary taste of our post-war generation, Stefan Zweig has been forgotten for few decades,in spite of the fact that the first half of the 20th century , Zweig was perhaps one of the most famous and popular authors in the world. He and compatriot Hugo von Hofmannsthal had almost pararell lives.They were both some sort of literary prodigies(Hofmannsthal and Zweig earned their fame in their teens).They began their literary careers as poets and ended up writing various kind of literary genres,including libretto for Strauss. Also both ended up committing suicide. Zweig wrote many memorable fictions ,but only one novel.And, this is "Beware of Pity".
The novel is a kaleidoscope of the Habsburg dual monarchy.Zweig's talent lays on his superb description of human psyche of each character and the representation of comtemporary time. this work well represents decaying , both morally and physically , Habsburg dual monarchy. It shows how anarchoronistic system of mores( of K.u.K) that led otherwise good natured and a bit simple minded Leutenant Hoffmiler conered to the desperate situation. Does Hoffmiler deserve his fate? read book and decide that by yourself. what amazed me was how well Zweig synchronized and symbolized tragic denoument of kekeskalva family with the outbreak of" the war to end all wars". This is both pcychological and historical drama par excellence.One of forgotten masterpiece that recently rediscovered. Thank you NYRB to bring Zweig back.

This is an intense, psychological drama, and a page-turner to boot! What's so great is the wonderful language, the "lofty" writing. I just loved every page, and our poor, tortured hero.

It's a fabulously written book about love instigated by pitty, which can be very dangerous. Worth reading as this kind of thing still happens every day.

...no, not the book by Dave Eggers, but this masterpiece by Stefan Zweig. I came upon this by accident, and bought it, intrigued by the story outline and the reviews below. Only very, very rarely does a book have the power to draw me into the lives of the characters, probably because they're usually just that - characters. Not so here. Here we have flesh and blood and all that entails. I'm still amazed at Zweig's story telling. He's the kind of writer who could make a shopping list fascinating. I lived and breathed every single word in this incredibly beautiful book, and, as has been said elsewhere, the tension becomes almost unendurable. I can hardly do justice to it in a few words. Weirdly, I often found myself smiling, not because it's a funny book, far from it, but just through an appreciation of Zweig's supreme mastery of his art. This is one of those books appearing only a few times in your life that wring emotion out of you whether you like it or not. A heart-breaking, unforgettable and life-enriching experience.

I'd also like to praise the translation, by Trevor and Phyllis Blewitt. At no time is there even a hint that you're reading a translation - something that occurred to me only after finishing the book. On the contrary, it seems to me that the elegance of the language and all the magnificent virtues that contribute to Zweig's humanity and genius have been faithfully rendered. The proof is in my twin disappointments; coming to the end, and learning that there are no further full-length novels by Zweig. I'll definitely be reading all his other works, though.

In the introduction to this book Joan Acocella tells Zweig's story as a writer. One of her claims is that despite his enormous popularity as biographer, essayist, writer of great novellas and stories, this novel is his masterpience. The novel is in essence the story of a feeling, of 'pity' of how it becoming the obsession and duty of the main character turns self- serving and destructive. Briefly , the book revolves around the relationship between a poor Austrian officer Hoffstein and a crippled seventeen year old daughter of a wealthy family Edith Kekesfalvas. After he has inadvertently insulted her by having asked her to dance he becomes bound into a relationship with her, in which she falls deeply in love with him without his truly reciprocating. This is how Acocella reads the protagonist's reasoning and its result after her doctor informs him that it would be disastrous for him to abandon her.

"So he descends ever deeper into hypocrisy. In the process, Zweig gives us a piercing analysis of the motives underlying pity. Gradually Hofmiller realizes how much he enjoys the courtesies paid to him for his emotional services, how it pleases him that when he arrives at the Schloss his favorite cigarettes--and also the novel (its pages already cut) that he had said in passing that he wanted to read--are laid out on the tea table. Nor is it lost on him that his own sense of strength is magnified by Edith's weakness and, above all, by his growing power over the Kekesfalvas, the fact that if he, a poor soldier, does not present himself at teatime, this great, rich household is thrown into a panic, and the chauffeur is dispatched to town to spy him out and see what he is doing in preference to waiting on Edith. Beyond the matter of power, however, Hofmiller finds that the emotion of pity is a pleasure just in itself. It exalts him, takes him to a new place. Before, as an officer, he was required only to obey orders and be a good fellow. Now he is a moral being, a soul."

This end in destruction is somehow a foreshadowing of what would happen to Zweig.Having been betrayed with the rise of the Nazis by the Europe he loves, tried to make a new home and life with his second wife in Brazil. But it does not work out and the both of them are found after having taken fatal overdoes of drugs hands intertwined.

One Tuesday Morning & Beyond Tuesday Morning, book series by Karen Kingsbury excellent books relating to
September 11, 2001 - highly recommended

Received this book within a few days of ordering. Like new condition. I am very satisfied with this purchase.

It is an awesome book. I stumbled on to Karen Kingsbury kind of accidentally and it was one of the best things I have ever done. She is an excellent writer. This book must be read after One Tuesday Morning.

Great. A must if you have read One Tuesday morning.

Karen Kingsbury did it again. Another fantastic story. Another, I can't put this book down until I finish it. I loved it! Great Christian fiction!

If you really want to know the history of Coney, this book is a must. I grew up in Brighton Beach during the 50s, and this book was a wonderful read.

The Terra and Belgenio patriarchs arrived in Coney Island at the turn of the 20 th centuty--legend has it that they got on a train and got off at the last stop--Stillwell Ave. This wonderful book put me in touch with them and my parents who lived and died on 15 th and 17 Streets between Mermaid & Neptune Aves. up until the mid 70's. My grandfather Anthony Terra sold ice in the summer and coal in the winter while his wife Maria ran a fruit & vegetable store and raised 6 children--one of whom was my father George, who knew everybody and everybody knew him. This book --the narrative and photos--ignited so many memories for me that I cannot read it without shedding some tears --as I am doing now. Buy the book--you'll love it! Dr Anthony Terra

This is the best book I've ever read on the history Coney Island and I've read every one I could find. It is extremely well researched and written, has incredible photographs and graphics, and a personal story that's moving and deeply felt.

Like many of the other reviewers of this book I grew up in the Coney Island area (Brighton First Street). Coney Island has an almost magical draw for me, so much so that I recently completed writing and illustrating a novel called, "Coney Island Book of the Dead" that takes place in 1956. Charles Denson's book proved to be an invaluable source of facts, lore, and pictures, but, even more importantly, of inspiration. If my novel ever gets published (I'm looking for an agent as of 6/08/07) I hope all of you coneyislandaphiles read it.

Also, you might also be interested in a new book by Charles Denson called "Wild Ride! A Coney Island Roller Coaster Family." I just ordered it.

I actually got a copy of this book from my grandfather -- who was featured in the book. I enjoyed this book so much that I have since bought this book for every friend and relative who has moved out of state. This is a great gift for any occassion... for any Brooklynite.

Like many of the other reviewers, I'm a Coney Island native. Unlike them, I grew in Trump Village, located on the border between Coney and Brighton. Growing up in the 1970's and 80's, central Coney was always a bad neighborhood and I'd only heard vague stories about how great it used to be. While I have since read books and seen documentaries about Coney, Denson's book goes even deeper, especially with his wonderful use of oral history.

I had always been told that before Trump Village and Warbasse, there used to be nothing but empty land in that area. Thanks to this book, I have finally learned the truth, that there used to be a vital, functioning and even happy lower and middle income neighborhood called the Gut, before Fred Trump, Robert Moses and other developers and politicians came along and destroyed all that. Despite it's unfortunate beginnings, Trump still ended up being a decent, affordable place for many middle class Jews and Russian immigrants to live, thanks to this book, I'll always see the ghosts of the homes, theaters and people who came before everytime I go home.

For anyone who is interested in Coney Island or the rise and fall of a city neighborhood, this book is most definitely recommended. And if you grew up in or even near Coney, this book is a must-read.

The writing is evocative, aiming for a literary texture reminiscent of Ondaatje. The location is densely described. I was pleased by sentences like this: "The breeze blows toward them, sweeping the words back against the wall and scattering stray almonds in a crop of tiny whirlwinds at their feet." (That 'crop' is brilliant - a carefully chosen and precise noun.) But it read like excerpts from a bored New Yorker's diary. I didn't care about the characters, and felt some sympathy for the little girl on the subway kicking Andrew. I was bored, too.

This is a flambouyantly, thoughtfully, lyrically written piece that takes the reader through the streets, through the cultures, through the injustices and mystical ideosyncracies of life. I would read it on a boat, I would read it in a moat, I would read it on the stair, I would read it in the air. I just love this writer's prose.

The story begins with an older woman leaving her home, but her husband's ghost retreats back into the apartment and waves to her from the window. The writer even gives discussion to the ease of being such a ghost. Then we follow the woman's path to work, her easy style, the easy grace of others, the stagnacy of everyday life, and find the eternal faux pas of life, the bullies. They pester a boy the woman remembers as a kind soul and she follows her spirit to the point that red ants sting the aggressors to the point that they run screaming into the hords of stagnant people with no hope for what the day brings.

The story shifts to a man too timid to stop a child from abusing him on the IRT, and when the train breaks down and the foul stench of a drunk approaches, he flees into a more distant crowd to hide himself, but inevitably, the drunk with a myriad of excuses for needed money in the cup he waves presses his way and accosts him directly.

This story lacks reviews, probably because of a synopsis and title that could never hint at the treasure that awaits a download. It is so well written: prose that could be accused of being purple but for the tidbits of tale telling and grace that entertains and guides the reader through a unique experience. This holds so much promise that publishers should seriously take note.

I was immediately captivated by Henry's excerpt. Very textured and focused and fast paced. I like the way he touches all the senses. Signora Strega, Andrew, fat lady with terrible daughter, trenchcoat guys, horrifying drunk guy. I was on that train with all of them for Andrew's first day of work. Can't wait to read more.

The excerpt I read from A Deed Without a Name left me craving the rest of the story. Mr. Catenacci is a talented artist whose graphic descriptions sketch vivid scenes in the mind. I was enchanted by the old woman character and want to read more. Truly an enchanting story!

In the crowded city where accents, faiths, hopes and dreams get mixed in a blender, often people merely walk with blinders on. They don't smell the scent of the bakery, see the colors of the exotic costume a foreign woman wears. It's a defense mechanism to prevent information overload and more--if they saw, they might have to care...

In this excerpt, Henry Catenacci shows us two people who have not yet lost their sight. First, we see an Italian widow heading to work, her last stop before the IRC a bakery for some cookies to share with her co-workers:

"Her husband follows her to the curb, then turns back. He will stay behind, alone in their third floor apartment, waiting at a window for her return this evening. Dead a quarter century, he has forgotten much of existence beyond that window, and his days carry no burden left to ease, no strain greater than a thought or an emotion felt through the inconstancy of time."

She sees a child being tormented by his fellows and wants to help, but is uncertain her intervention would be appreciated or not. An inadvertent sacrifice of a gift saves the day.

Next, we move to a crowded subway where young Andrew clutches a strap, subject to the predations of a young child being ignored by her mother. The 'blender' mixes the human contents of the car at each stop, adding young men in trenchcoats, an odiferuous drunk...

And Mr. Catenacci leaves us abruptly with a surprise ending that may well open the eyes of the car's riders. Kudos to the author for leaving the excerpt with a hook and making us wonder precisely what is going to happen next.

"A Deed Without a Name" is a thoughtfully written excerpt with strong imagery and the heart of a city stamped indelibly in the words. The writing is of publication quality, the only suggestion I might make is to speed the narrative up a bit to keep readers engaged.

Congratulations to Mr. Catenacci for creating a pair of slice of life scenes that were rich in texture and flavor. Good luck with this novel.

Rest in peace Dondi, your art will never die! If you liked Subway Art and Spraycan Art then grab yourself of a copy of this absolute gem as Dondi was truly up there with the likes of Seen etc and my favorite Dondi piece still has to be the children of the grave. Buy this as in a few years when it's harder to get your gonna regret it and probably pay a lot of dollar.

i grew up in brooklyn in the 70s and was witness to much of what is shown in this book. there are dozens of train photos from all phases of dondis subway days which i spent much time looking at. what really fascinates me though are the hidden things in these photos. anybody pick up on the iz the wiz throwups in the top photo of page 26. how about the le throwup in the top photo of page 57 or the blade tags inside the windows of the photo on pages 71/72? ever wonder what are those pieces faded beneath so much of dondis work? the birth of graffiti book out recently showed the very beginnings of the graff movement in nyc, but there seems to be a lack of photo/written history of the stuff from that time till the late seventies. i wonder how many people know how cool it is to just sit, relax and look at something like this that you've admired for so long without having to run down a train platform and try and commit to memory the amazing blur that just went by. the interview with dondi was very insightful and actually gave me a renewed appreciation for his work. the book itself is medium sized, hardcover and the paper is of excellent quality. i would love to see more books like this on other just as prominent writers. blade, lee, seen etc.

this is one great book,very well detailed from dondis underground train bombing days plus his days when he was hitting up art gallerys and it even tells you about dondi b4 he was even a writer.plenty of great pics plus lots of top reading too.one of the better graff books.

What can I say an excellent book from an excellent artist, I am sure Dondi and others form the late 70's to early 80's movement in NYC never would have thought that their creations and inovations would become such a world wide hit and change cities across the world. From my early days as a youngster starting out in Graff in 1985 to now as a somewhat maturer but always youthful graff lover I can definately say that this book was like turning back the clock, and boy was I shocked to hear that he was never caught, "I just wish I could say that"!. A well documented and presented book but sad he is'nt here still to have written it himself "RIP DONDI"

This is one of the must-have books if you dig graffities! It features lots of beautiful photos, sketches and actual pages from the Dondi's own black book. Hardcover with slipcover gives a good value for money!