Bloom Books

I was required to purchase this play for a Theatre class. Personally I don't care for the script. I feel like it is a bit hard to follow and unsatisfying.

The vender has been wonderful! Thanks!

J. Hickling

If the author was trying to effect in the reader the pain of interminable, open-ended waiting in line with no insight as to when the line might move, with no other diversions, he succeeded. I found this book excruciating to read. Imagine the dull rambling--desalinated of anything whatsoever interesting--of two nondescript nobodies with nothing to say. That pretty much sums it up. Once one gets that, then some nuances come in to play. First, it is funny at times. The author manages to insert some subtle plays on words; irony; playful symbolism. These are not pointed to with a neon sign, but have to be watched for--no sleeping here! The insertion of the rich man and his human 'horse' pulling a cart was truly demented. While there may be a few ways to take this work, I'll stick with re-interpreting the phrase 'waiting for Godot' not to mean a long wait, but rather an interminable wait so filled with boredom that not only can I understand why the characters in this play considered suicide, but wonder why I am not considering it as well.

I am not a very big fan of reading plays but appreciate the humor of "The Importance of Being Earnest" and the drama and tragedy of "Death of a Salesman". This play, however, didn't do anything for me. The plot (characters waiting for someone who never comes) intrigued me and was very original. The dialog, though, was too abstract and I thought could have been a lot better. This is a very quick and easy read though so not too much of an investment to read.

Waiting and Waiting and Waiting and ...

Review of Play: Waiting for Godot - A Tragicomedy in Two Acts

Written in: 1949

Premiere in: 1953

By: Samuel Beckett (1906 - 1989)

Originally written in French and translated to English by the author himself.

This play takes place on a desolate road next to a barren tree. There are two aimless men loitering and passing the time in discussion. They are soon joined by two others. The first act of the play lasts through one evening. The second act lasts through a second evening almost identical to the first. When ever the subject of leaving their spot arises, we learn that they can't leave because they are "Waiting for Godot" and need to stay at this particular spot on the road.

There is a sense of timelessness. The second evenings (second act) seems to be slightly altered copy of the first evening (first act). The characters are "Waiting for Godot" and for salvation. Their wait for salvation might well be endless since all of them are loath to face their true motives, their real needs, their personal wants and honest desires. They don't seem to know why they are "Waiting for Godot" or what Godot (God?) will bring them. When they mention suicide they flippantly dismiss the subject. One time they say they can not hang themselves because they have no rope when in fact there is a rope lying on the stage as one of the few props.

They appear to have voluntarily subjected themselves to a purgatory and don't have the courage or initiative to even question their situation.

The discussion ranges from an inane account of boots being too tight to sophistic meanderings on the purpose of life. The characters seem to relentlessly keep talking to avoid facing something. We are not privy to any of their pasts or in fact any personal information about any of the characters. They might have been meeting on the desolate road for an endless time, so that any past that they had is lost in the mist of their memories.

The nearly barren tree reminds them of a hanging tree and by implication a crucifixion cross. The tree dominates the stage background just as Godot dominates the lives; free choice and every expression of the four main characters. Does the milieu force the characters to think of salvation to the exclusion of a meaningful life? Could their need for salvation keep them trapped in a purgative existence where escape would be a form of condemnation which none of them could tolerate?

The play "Waiting for Godot" forces the reader to ask questions of him/her self.




Waiting for Godot

Krapp's Last Tape

Endgame and Act Without Words




I completely enjoyed and highly recommend this book.

Waiting and Waiting and Waiting and ...

Review of Play: Waiting for Godot - A Tragicomedy in Two Acts

Written in: 1949

Premiere in: 1953

By: Samuel Beckett (1906 - 1989)

Originally written in French and translated to English by the author himself.

This play takes place on a desolate road next to a barren tree. There are two aimless men loitering and passing the time in discussion. They are soon joined by two others. The first act of the play lasts through one evening. The second act lasts through a second evening almost identical to the first. When ever the subject of leaving their spot arises, we learn that they can't leave because they are "Waiting for Godot" and need to stay at this particular spot on the road.

There is a sense of timelessness. The second evenings (second act) seems to be slightly altered copy of the first evening (first act). The characters are "Waiting for Godot" and for salvation. Their wait for salvation might well be endless since all of them are loath to face their true motives, their real needs, their personal wants and honest desires. They don't seem to know why they are "Waiting for Godot" or what Godot (God?) will bring them. When they mention suicide they flippantly dismiss the subject. One time they say they can not hang themselves because they have no rope when in fact there is a rope lying on the stage as one of the few props.

They appear to have voluntarily subjected themselves to a purgatory and don't have the courage or initiative to even question their situation.

The discussion ranges from an inane account of boots being too tight to sophistic meanderings on the purpose of life. The characters seem to relentlessly keep talking to avoid facing something. We are not privy to any of their pasts or in fact any personal information about any of the characters. They might have been meeting on the desolate road for an endless time, so that any past that they had is lost in the mist of their memories.

The nearly barren tree reminds them of a hanging tree and by implication a crucifixion cross. The tree dominates the stage background just as Godot dominates the lives; free choice and every expression of the four main characters. Does the milieu force the characters to think of salvation to the exclusion of a meaningful life? Could their need for salvation keep them trapped in a purgative existence where escape would be a form of condemnation which none of them could tolerate?

The play "Waiting for Godot" forces the reader to ask questions of him/her self.



Waiting for Godot

Krapp's Last Tape

Endgame and Act Without Words



I completely enjoyed and highly recommend this book.

I'd never read anything by Kafka and was reqd to do so for a book group I'm in. It was so compelling. I heartily recommend it, and it's a novella, so it's not a big time commitment. It grabs you from the first sentence.

*SPOILER WARNING*

The Metamorphosis most certainly has an interesting premise, but is deeply and I'm afraid, fatally flawed. It starts out quite well, draws the reader in, and goes along pretty well for the first chapter, but begins a sharp decline from there. There are some problems with quality and believability from the beginning, but they become painfully clear by the second and certainly by the third chapter.

In the first place, it seems strange that Gregor's family, after having months to adjust themselves to his new bug-like condition (though granted they didn't look at him much), should react so violently to the mere sight of him. His mother faints, his sister flees the room in terror, and his father ruthlessly bombards him with the contents of a nearby fruit bowl. I doubt that the devil himself could create a creature that ugly. And despite his distinctly human actions (namely covering the couch that he crawls under with a sheet to shield them from his ugliness), somehow by the end of the story they seem to have reached the conclusion that he is a mindless and savage beast (though seeing as this is so we wonder why they didn't dispose of him long before).

Despite all of this The Metamorphosis could have been a sad, sweet, sickening story, of the kind that makes you want to be a better person (though perhaps not read it again), were it not for the behavior of the protagonist. He is finally defeated, and does not become happy, or change back into a human, or even die a noble death. Instead he becomes demoralized and loses his self-respect. He does not retaliate toward his cruel treatment or try to communicate. Instead he festers in his own pride and cynicism. In a sense his innermost being comes to match the hideousness of his outward appearance. This book, at its conclusion is neither sweet nor sad, but merely sickening.

Kafka easily, methodically draws you into a metamophosis of your own as you ready into this novel. Every time I read this work, I gain a new perspective and appreciation for the plight of the main character. I never feel like I've turned into a large insect, but I certainly give myself a good chill as Kafka brings it all to life.

Existentialists will appreciate how internal the narrative remains throughout. When you unexpectedly morph into another species, the laws of society start to apply differently to you...and naturally changes who you are as well...

The Metamorphosis / 0-553-21369-5

When I was in 9th grade, my somewhat harried teacher attempted to assign me Ovid's Metamorphosis (a collection of Greek myths) and instead assigned me Kafka's Metamorphosis. Kafka's tale is short but packed with vivid symbolism in which a young man inexplicably wakes up one day as a large roach creature and subsequently fails to turn back into a man. After a confusing night with the novel, I reported back to the befuddled teacher, and she substituted another book, much to my relief.

Years later, I now reread Kafka with an adult's awe and appreciation, rather than the child's confusion. The novel is packed with deep symbolism and, even now, I could not tell you with confidence what it "means". I believe the story is of being trapped in a family that does not appreciate you, except for what you can do for them, and I believe the sad ending masks an even sadder one - that the young daughter will soon become the new symbolic 'roach' to the family, bringing in resources but never loved or appreciated. However, I have heard other interpretations, each meaningful and special. I recommend this book, but the first read through should be with a light eye, not questioning the strangeness nor looking too hard for meaning. Rather, I think Kafka is best when you allow the impressions to kind of wash over you as you go.

Watch Video Here: http://www.amazon.com/review/R1ONT9LRSBFK3Z

This 31-page book is rich in colorful, authentic illustrations which give it high visual appeal. It begins with background on the Elizabethan period and then gives a summary of the play broken into sections that match the acts in the play. Descriptions are also provided of the main characters. It is a useful resource for giving students an overview of the play before reading the complete text, or for reluctant readers.

I ordered this book for my sister who was struggling with an online college English course. She could not understand Shakespeare and was really having a hard time. I found this book on Amazon and had it sent to her. She not only understands Shakespeare now, she actually enjoys it! The original writing is on one side of the page, and the plain English version is right beside it. Wonderful!! I have no doubt my sister will now make an A in her class as well as become a fan of Shakespeare!

Let me begin by saying that Hamlet is truly an amazing play. By far, my favorite drama, Shakespearian or otherwise. Telling the story of a man searching for the light amid mind-boggling darkness, Hamlet reveals more about the conflicts people face in their own lifetimes than any other piece of literature.

This edition includes an introduction about the life of Shakespeare, including a completed works list, and even some words of his own creation. After the unabridged play, several very noteworthy critical reviews reveal more and more about Hamlet than any other comparable binding. At the price and information contained within in its pages, you simply cannot find a better edition of this awe-inspiring drama.

I'm not ashamed to admit it. I find Shakespeare difficult. I need help. The Cambridge School Shakespeare editions, with the classroom activities and assignments on each facing page, give me the focus and direction I need to finally truly enjoy the text.

I thought I didn't like Shakespeare until I took a class on several of the plays. It turns out that I love Shakespeare when I'm doing close reading or studying it carefully but for whatever reason I find it extremely difficult to do on my own. The Cambridge School editions allow me to replicate the classroom experience on my own, providing enough background and questions for critical thought that I keep a close focus on the text. Previous times I've attempted to read 'Hamlet' I was struggling just to figure out what was going on; reading this edition I was analyzing the characters and considering different acting and directing choices. It's amazing.

NOTE: THE FOLLOWING CHIEFLY PERTAINS TO THE NEW FOLGER LIBRARY EDITION.

William Shakespeare's "Hamlet" is arguably the most famous play ever written in the English language; it presents the world with questions and characters that have been the subject of thespian and scholarly debate ever since the Prince of Denmark's first appearance on the stage of London's Globe Theatre. Probably written and first performed in 1601 (estimates vary between 1600 and 1602), the play draws on Saxo Grammaticus's late 12th/early 13th century chronicle "Gesta Danorum," which includes a popular legend with a similar plot centering around a prince named Amleth; as well as several more contemporaneous sources, primarily Francois de Belleforest's "Histoires Tragiques, Extraicts des Oeuvres Italiennes de Bandel" (1559-1580), which expands on the story told in the "Gesta Danorum," and a lost play known as the "Ur-Hamlet" (i.e., original "Hamlet"), sometimes also attributed to Shakespeare, but equally likely written by a different author a few decades earlier. Another work frequently cited in this context is 16th century playwright Thomas Kyd's "Spanish Tragedie."

Pursuant to Shakespeare's wishes and like all of his works, "Hamlet" was not immediately published, and the original manuscript did not survive. However, in the absence of copyright laws or other forms of protection of what today would be called the playwright's intellectual property rights, first bootleg copies (so-called quartos) based on transcripts made during or after performances began to appear in 1603. Yet, it would not be until 1623 - seven years after Shakespeare's 1616 death - that his former fellow actors John Hemmings and Henry Condell published 36 of his plays (including this one) in a collection known as the First Folio.

As no print version of any of Shakespeare's plays has a bona fide claim to its author's first-hand blessings, ever since the Bard's death the world is left with numerous questions about his characters' motivations and psychological makeup; first and foremost, in this particular case: who is this Prince of Denmark anyway, and what's driving him - is he a reluctant suicide or reluctant avenger? A Renaissance man? Wrecked by Freudian guilt? Genuinely mad, or merely putting on a clever act of deception? Or is he someone else entirely? - Indeed, we're even left in doubt as to what exactly it was that Shakespeare meant his characters to say, with all attendant interpretative consequences: Does the Prince wish for his "too too sullied" or his "too too solid" flesh to "melt, thaw, and resolve itself into a dew" in his first major soliloquy (Act I, Scene 2)? Does he really contemplate "the stamp of [that] one defect" which may fatally taint the perception of a man's other virtues, "be they as pure as grace," before meeting his father's ghost (I, 4)? Does Polonius, when sending Reynaldo on a spying mission after Laertes, refer to his scheme as "a fetch of wit" or "a fetch of warrant" (II, 1)? Do Hamlet's musings in "To be, or not to be" (III, 1) concern "enterprises of great pith and moment" or "of great pitch and moment," whose "currents turn awry and lose the name of action" by his doubts? Does or doesn't the sight of the Norwegian army while Hamlet is on his way to England (IV, 4) prompt him, who has so far failed to carry out his purpose, to reflect "How all occasions do inform against me," and conclude his soliloquy with the vow "from this time forth my thoughts be bloody or be nothing worth"?

How you answer any of these questions, and how you consequently view the play's characters, depends in no small part on the text you read. Like all Folger Shakespeare editions, this one is based on what the editors have deemed the "best early printed version," while allowing the reader a unique direct comparison of the principal reliable versions by including a text essentially combining these versions, with unobtrusive markers characterizing those passages appearing only in one particular version. For "Hamlet," the editors eschewed the play's very first (1603) quarto, which was possibly compiled by a journeyman actor and whose inconsistencies with all subsequent versions (textually as well as plot-wise and even regarding character names) have caused it to be generally considered a "bad" quarto, in favor of the 1604 Second Quarto, which some even believe to be based on Shakespeare's own first draft of the play and which, in any event, while more extensive than the 1623 First Folio (in turn, thought to be closest to the version(s) actually produced on the Globe Theatre stage), boasts about as secure a claim of authenticity as the latter. In some instances, the text follows the Second Quarto (Q2) without visually alerting the reader to the differences vis-a-vis the First Folio (F1), thus compelling those more used to the latter version to seek out the extensive end notes to reassure themselves that (in the examples given above) it might indeed be "solid flesh," "warrant," and "pith and moment" (F1) instead of "sullied flesh," "wit," and "pitch and moment" (Q2). In other instances, however, the First Folio's language (clearly marked as such) is given preference over that of the Second Quarto; while crucially, the text also includes all those passages *only* contained in the latter, including the "stamp of one defect" and "bloody thoughts" monologues, whose interpretation has such a direct bearing on many a reader's understanding of Hamlet's character.

The text is amplified by illustrations and annotations for those unfamiliar with 16th century English, scene-by-scene plot summaries, a short biography of Shakespeare, and introductory and concluding essays on this and the Bard's other plays and on Shakespearean theatre, as well as extensive suggestions for further reading, and a key to the play's most famous lines. While it is unlikely that after 400 years of debate any one version, be it in print, on stage or on screen, will be able to generate unanimous acceptance as the "definitive" rendition of this complex play, this is an excellent starting point for an in-depth excursion into the Prince of Denmark's world.

Also recommended:
The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition
BBC Shakespeare Tragedies DVD Giftbox
Olivier's Shakespeare - Criterion Collection (Hamlet / Henry V / Richard III)
William Shakespeare's Hamlet (Two-Disc Special Edition)
Grigori Kozintsev's Hamlet
Hamlet
Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead
Peter Brook's King Lear
Richard III
Julius Caesar

This book provides a fascinating perspective on history and current society.

If you are looking for a strictly academic work, this is probably not for you. Instead, this book looks at parallels between trends and processes in various parts of the world, and in various parts of history. If you are looking for brilliant insights and a unique perspective, strongly consider this book.

This is one of those books that once you read it, you simply change. My views of life, the way that I go day to day are different because now I have an understanding that wasnt there. Exceptional book, 20 Stars!

This will take everything you learned in school and put it together in a grand explanation. I found this book on a trip to Florida and couldn't put it down the rest of the trip. You will not be disappointed.

I thought Bloom had many interesting things to say about the interdependence of life but unfortunately the bulk of his historical interpretations are terribly superficial. Much of the book feels like you've tuned in to CNN or Fox for a mindless analysis of world affairs where Cuban communism or Islamic fundamentalism emerge for no other reason than to obtain power. That works if you forget about Batiste or Mossadegh, but many of us see world affairs quite differently, where third world radicalism is the spawn of western imperialism. Whatever your opinions about these kinds of things may be, I would highly recommend comparing the quality of Bloom's scholarship with any of Noam Chomsky's work. For some that may be a loaded statement, but there is no denying that the evidence presented to back up important assertions are simply incomparable; Bloom provides virtually nothing except interpretations as references whereas Chomsky makes serious attempts to provide first hand accounts. In Bloom's case, shining the lens of the superorganism on world history seems to be a much less effective tool of interpretation then applying concepts from critical theory and economics, despite the fact that they should be equivalent.

The general themes and ideas presented in this book are interesting: That we are all part of a competitive social superorganism driven by memetic transmission. However, I find his understanding of certain concepts (e.g. stress, religion, philosophy) to be extremely limited.

So while I found the book to be thought provoking, it was hard to overlook the cherry-picking of factual "evidence" and limited understanding of important concepts (see above).

If you're required to read this book in high school, then kudos to your teacher for introducing you to George Eliot.

Having said that, when I was in high school, I wouldn't have appreciated George Eliot either. She was a master crafter of literature, choosing words thoughtfully and laying patiently the foundation of characters, observations, storylines to form a more perfect novel. In other words, to most high school readers of classic literature, her books can be boring.

But wait at least 10 years, pick up her works again, and find yourself pulled into stories that simultaneously take you back to provincial Victorian England while portraying the lives of characters who could be your friends, family, yourself.

Silas Marner is a wonderful precursor to Eliot's Middlemarch. The story focuses on the main title character, of course, following this sad little weaver from the time he was a respected member of his community to the moment he was cast out to his wandering and settling in sleepy Raveloe where he seeks to be left alone. Betrayed by his best friend and rejected by his fellow worshippers at Lantern Yard, Silas loses faith in God and people. He means to live the rest of his life in Raveloe, shielded from the God who failed him and from people who would only disappoint and hurt him.

He passes the next 15 or so years of his life, shunning society who responds to this odd-looking stranger by alienating him. Silas finds solace in weaving, weaving, weaving, accumulating gold for his work, and transferring his love to these gold pieces.

Silas' core is shaken again by a shocking event, and he is in danger of soon dying a broken man. He is restored when a little girl with golden curls toddles into his life. He comes to believe the gold he lost came back to him in this "golden-haired replacement." And from then, Silas is slowly drawn back to life, back to society, back to faith in God. The little orphan he saves and names Eppie ends up saving him.

Sounds like a simple almost sappy story, no? Under George Eliot's pen, it's a wonderful telling of faith (in God, in people, in life) lost and found because of unconditional love for a little child. But it's also much more than that. The story explores themes of alienation, societal rejection of otherness and being different, questions of where one fits in society and how that role is interdependent on one's participation in society as well as its acceptance of one on what terms, love of course as a restorative panacea, love between a father and his adopted daughter trumping all, and so many different aspects of life and its challenges and rewards.

All of these ideas are so expertly presented and turned over, my eyes were sometimes stopped dead in their tracks by a passage that I would then reread several times to appreciate the beauty of its truth and language. I'm about to date myself (I'm currently in my late 30s), but I just had to share one of the most memorable observations I'd read in a long time. It's about Godfrey Cass, a man who seems to have everything, except a child to call his own:

"Meanwhile, why could he not make up his mind to the absence of children from a hearth brightened by such a wife? Why did his mind fly uneasily to that void, as if it were the sole reason why life was not thoroughly joyous to him? I suppose it is the way with all men and women who reach middle age without the clear perception that life never *can* be thoroughly joyous: under the vague dulness of the grey hours, dissatisfaction seeks a definite object, and finds it in the privation of an untried good."

I don't think George Eliot is saying here that Godfrey is silly for wanting a child when he has everything else a man could possibly want. It is the idea of many men and women never being able to be truly happy and forever chasing some thing, which they find is lacking in their life at that time, because they're sure that thing will make them happy. This is the classic middle crisis, but it is universal in us all to desire what we can't have and to think our happiness depends on us getting it. It doesn't of course.

I say this book is a precursor to Middlemarch because we start to see in this novel George Eliot's beginning of writing novels with distinct townsfolk full of characters as memorable as the main characters -- folks that populate a village and are as recognizable as your kind neighbor, local bartender, neighborhood elder. I'm thoroughly entertained George Eliot's creations here: Mr. Macey, Dolly Winthrop, Squire Cass and his brood, Nancy and Priscilla and their respectable kin.

So why did I not give this 5 stars? Honestly, it was too short. Much time was spent on Silas and his life before finding Eppie, but not enough was flushed out in the story after. I loved the chapter when Eliot described how this old bachelor is suddenly befuddled by the two-year-old he's adopted and becoming a father to her. Where does he begin? And when Eppie turns 3 and mischievous, it's hilarious to follow Silas as he tries to discipline his precious...and can't. Those little nuggets are treasured by this newish mom. But it comes to an end too soon and Eppie is next seen as an 18-year-old girl about to embark on her new life.

The second part of the book feels hastily completed. Loose ends are tied up; difficult conversations improbably take place and are resolved in one day; Silas' journey to his old life at the former Lantern Yard and back home to Raveloe is rushed; and Eppie's story has its happy ending.

Had George Eliot wanted to keep writing to flesh out all these paltry scenes, I would have happily kept reading and delighted to have given this book a 5-star rating.

When I read, I tried instead of condemning Silas Marner, to see the book through his eyes. And as the book went on, I almost felt myself getting dimmer,more cut off from society. It was rather sad.

The book isn't the best representative of what life in 19th century England would have been like, but it is a very good picture of how uncultured people treat other people from other lands. It's only when misfortune falls upon that person, do they accept them.

I absolutely loved the fact that Silas found a "golden-haired replacement". That was the sweetest thing I've read in my life, how he instantly wanted to protect her and give her the best things in life. Godfrey seemed nice at first, but as the book uncovered his past, I started to like him less and less. He needed to act like a man, buck up and take control of his life, and not be constantly cowed by his father. I can understand due to the time period why he thought Eppie would come with him and Nancy, but still, the way he kept asking even after she said no the first time was rude.

The book was very uninteresting in the beginning. I had to force myself to read it. It was only after Dunsey stole Silas's money that it began to be interesting. Still, it was a sweet book and I liked it a lot.

This book is required reading for freshman in our high school. This version is very hard to read due to the Old English style of writing.

Silas Marner / 0-553-21229-X

Silas Marner always invariably compares in my mind to Dicken's Scrooge. In the height of his youth, healthy, happy, and in love, he is betrayed, cast down, and taught the 'lesson' that only the criminal and avaricious get ahead in life. Banished to a new town, he abandons all attempts to connect with the society around him and instead focuses on hoarding his wealth carefully, counting his money lovingly in the evenings. When the money simply disappears one day, stolen by a burglar, Silas is crushed. Only the arrival of an "angel" - a little orphan girl with golden curls on her head - saves him, and starts him down the long road to redemption. Given something to love, Silas flourishes and learns to join the society of people.

The local nobility, Cass, serves as a perfect counterpoint to Silas' lessons. Cass is rescued in one fell swoop from all his burdens - his inconvenient lower class wife dies suddenly clearing the way for his 'true love' and noble girlfriend, his illegitimate child is adopted by Silas, and his blackmailing brother disappears into the snow for good - and yet, Cass is doomed to a life of disappointment. His perfect upper class wife Nancy cannot bear children, and their perfect home is turned into a silent as the two simply age (they do not grow) and they find that they never really loved each other after all. When Cass realizes, too late, what a treasure his daughter would have been in his life, he finds himself rejected as the girl prefers her adoptive father to the natural one who would not claim her. And though the girl marries below her father's level of nobility, she marries a good man who loves and appreciates her, and her future seems much more rosy than that of her upper class 'parents'.

Silas Marner is a skillfully crafted novel to be enjoyed by readers with varied tastes. It was written by a woman, who found it necessary to use a man's name because of attitudes in England in the nineteenth century. It is built around problems that all of us face in our lives, such as, "How important is money?" As in all great novels, the characters change as the plot develops.

SILAS MARNER is a realistic novel because it portrays life in a real and believable fashion. The author, Mary Ann Evans, who used the pen name, George Eliot, pays careful attention to a few distinguishing details about here characters and settings.

For example, we can see Silas Marner, the central character of the novel, with his pale skin and undersized body. We know how he looks with his large, near-sighted, bulging eyes. We can see the important-looking village of Raveloe, which lives peacefully in opulent neglect.

When I was a teacher, I directed many high school sophomores to read SILAS MARNER. Most students dreaded reading the novel included in their literature textbooks. Once they met Silas and spent enough time with him to become acquainted with his unique personality, they became eager readers of this well-crafted classic.

It has some of the same qualities that made Pride and Prejudice (Vintage Classics) an endearing and enduring novel. In both works, the idyllic English countryside is an enjoyable escape from everyday life. There is romantic courtship in both, but the romance of SILAS MARNER is not the central theme; therefore it is not as compelling as that in PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. Since the readers are not required to become obsessed with yearning for romantic fulfillment, young guys who were in my class felt free to enjoy it. (Sixteen year old young men are still self-conscious about these matters.) Both books contain the same kind of satire buffered with compassion. In both novels we laugh with the local rural and village people. Because the language in SILAS MARNER is less complex, adolescent readers enjoy it more than they do PRIDE AND PREJUDICE.

When as a student I first read SILAS MARNER in high school and when I read it with my students, I considered the coincidences plot weaknesses. Life doesn't work that way, I thought. Now that I have experienced a life of incredible coincidences, I no longer find anything in the book unbelievable. Events caused by Silas Marner's catalepsy seemed unlikely, but now they represent no problem.

Theft with its resulting bitterness provides conflict with which the readers can identify. Earlier I found it difficult to believe that the lightning of theft could strike twice, but that part of the plot is one more realistic element now. Other twists and turns with their ironic mysteries are typical of human life as I have lived it.

All the parts of the novel that seemed to be a contrived fairy tale are now a vignette of life. Even if I could not believe it all, the book would still break my heart the way Forrest Gump does with its twists and turns of satirical accounts.

When I enjoyed SILAS MARNER in my twenties with thirty teenagers at a time, I did not notice the shaping of Silas' religious beliefs as much as I do now. I remember that the students and I were indignant about the way Silas was duped by the evil church members at Lantern Yard. Now I have compassion for them, especially William, as well as for Silas.

Mary Ann Evans showed the futility of idolatry. All my students understood the disaster of worshiping money. If I could return to my students, I would like to ask them what they thought of the villagers who seemed to rely on the habits of their church to bring them close to God. Could we discuss that in the 21st century? I feel sure we would discuss the addiction to narcotics as it is realistically portrayed.

SILAS MARNER is a great English novel not difficult to read, but rich in insights. It shows what is evil and what is good in human hearts.

If you are a teacher, I would look into buying another audio version of Romeo and Juliet. I have been using it as a tool to get the students to hear professional actors and to then ask them to use the same skills those professional actors use (inflection, emphasis, etc.) The problem is it is VERY difficult to hear...to the point that you have to sit 3 feet away to hear it at times. This simply does not work for a classroom.

The notes that John Andrews gives on all the Everyman Shakespeare editions that he edits are fabulous. I think his editions are the most user friendly for any actor, student, director and teacher. Some publishing house should get Mr. Andrews to do all the plays.

Poor Romeo.

Watching Romeo meander his way through the play is like tailgating a drunk driver. At any moment he could crash, and in the end he overcorrects his assumptions by swallowing the poison, and in some ways his death must be a relief to his troubled mind.

Romeo's status in the story changes with nearly every scene, whether by his own doing or by an external entity. However, his circumstance reflects in almost every case his willingness to succumb to his passions. From his love of Rosalind to his love for Juliet to his exile, he is a bundle of nerves. Taking a time out would slow the pace, and instead Shakespeare quickens it by transplanting Romeo's moment of joy with Juliet with a moment of action and consequence: the death of Mercutio.

Giving Romeo the chance to be happy might damage his character. A great tragedy yet today. What makes it great is that the basic storyline pulls everyone in, and once the story captures, we can start to appreciate the minor characters, like Capulet and the Nurse.

Shakespeare defines teen angst in this romantic tragedy. 14-year-old Juliet and Romeo falls in love at a party despite their family's feud. There are movies made from this play, but nothing beats reading the play itself to relish the writing of Shakespeare. Heart-wrenching and beautiful.

Caution Scalawags: May Cause Pulmonary Failure!, July 29, 2004
Reviewer: Professor Emeritus Percy Q. Johnstone (Darkest India) - See all my
reviews
Yes dear reader, it is I, Professor Emeritus Johnstone. As you may have
divined, as Professor Emeritus of American Literature, I am well versed with
dramatic writings from our sister nation, England. Now, many of you are
unfamiliar with the work, as William Shakespeare is relatively unknown in
the bumpkin-ridden land you call "The Colonies". However, you
lucky few will discover a goldmine of quotes such as "Alack, Alack,
Alack" and other favorites. But I, Professor Emeritus Johnstone,
diverge. Yes yes. For those of you who wish to pursue the god-given purpose
of the most noble art of teaching American Literature, you must be familiar
with the works of Shakespeare. As you are stupid, and not a professor, like
I, Professor Emeritus Johnstone, you undoubtedly do not understand, but no
matter. The story of "Romeo and Juliet" is simple. it opens in a
court yard in Venice where the political rebels, Pyramus and Thisbe are
plotting to overthrow the evil fascist government (oh how I, Professor
Emeritus Johnstone know that feeling. I confess, dear reader, that once I,
Professor Emeritus Johnstone, lived in America until government stooges
exiled me to darkest India for poliical subterfuge. Suberfuge! Bah!). Alas,
Lord Capulet's men break into the meeting and arrest poor Pyramus and
Thisbe, casting them into the darkest dungeon. Ah, but fortune smiles on our
two heroes, for in the cell next to them are the "Star-burned
lovers" Romeo and Juliet, who were imprisoned for plotting to overthrow
the evil Capulet. Together, they escape the prison, kill all the
fascist-swine guards, and blow up the prison, bringing us, dear reader,
rather neatly to the end of Act I.
Act II opens in Lord Montague's (Lord Capulet's chief of security) hall,
where he has just made posters offering 5000 marks for the heads of the four
rebels. Enter the villain (mustache and all) Tybalt (cousin to Count Paris)
the bounty-hunter. Tybalt, in a scene that moved even I, Professor Emeritus
Johnstone, gives a heartrending "soliliquy" in which he mourns on
he pain of killing those whose politico agendas you support. Thus ends Act
II. In Act III, we find...ROMEO WORKING FOR LORD CAPULET! He has become a
traitorous lap-dog to the very system he despises (oh reader, how I,
Professor Emeritus Johnstone, know this feeling!). Pyramus and his rebel
army storm the palace, and in the final scene, Pyramus kills his traitorous
lover, Romeo, driving a dagger through his jugular...only to find out that
Romeo was a spy. Pyramus then jumps out the highest tower in penance to end
the play.
Genius. Every potential collegiate scamp should read this edition, for it
has a preface by one of the greatest scholars of our age...none other than
I, Professor Emeritus Johnstone.
Hark, I hear my Biddy calling me to gruel and morning prayers. As Hamlet
said, "Adieu Fair Readers!"

Bitterly,
--Professor Emeritus Percy Q. Johnstone

This was my first Toni Morrison book, and has remained my favorite. You have not experienced fiction until you have read this book, or any of her books, for that matter. I'll just say she writes purely and poeticly, I couldn't give the story away.

I believe that this book really shows Toni Morrison's genius because she is able to combine several different themes into one book without it becoming confusing. I also like how she has main character for chapters, but gives justice to Sula throughout the book. I enjoyed how the book was metaphorical because it put importance on the different aspects of the book; like the characters, the role of religion, and the community as a whole. I truly enjoyed this book.

Perhaps for the use of a few words in each line, an economy that always brings grandeur to a work of fiction, Toni Morrison makes one visit the black town of Medallion Hall and meet Sula and Nel, two young girls whose lives are going to take the rest of the book to explain. Not as the difficulty I found reading Jazz, as Gabriel Garcia Marquez`s No one writes to the Colonel and The Old Man and the Sea, Morrison shows a wonderful mastership of the written art. I recommend it as a tender, human book. Undoubtely one of Morrison`s best works.

Toni Morrison's Sula is a moving novel about knowing one's true self while dealing with issues such as race, family background, and relationships. Up in the Bottom, which is the hilly area of Medallion where the colored community inhabits, the freindship between conservatively ordinary Nel Wright and emotional yet independent Sula Peace develops and evolves greatly over time and with the events that they experience as they mature. Morrison's own life as a child growing up in a mildly-racist town is incorporated into the story and is an aspect which greatly enhances her work, as well as her unique writing style. She has the ability to mesmerize and captivate the reader with her intriguingly beautiful wording and flowing dialogues. Sometimes, though, it is easy to lose track of what is going on with Morrison's overly descriptive ways, but overall she is a fantastic writer and Sula is indeed a worthwhile piece.

I had a great time reading this book. Saturday morning with a cup of tea I sat down with this book and didn't get up until I had finished it. It's easy reading and a good story. You can really see and feel the characters.

I enjoyed Bloom's book because it succeeded in one of its chief aims: to inspire the reader to open or go back to the books he describes. His enthusiasm beams from every paragraph. He obviously loves literature, and this passion conveyed itself clearly to me, triggering like feelings.

However, his book also irritated me. I can overlook the constant use of his favorite words: "declined," "agon," "proleptic," and "exuberant." But the constant rantings about the "School of Resentment," which would be feminists, Marxists, Foucauldians, and multiculturalists who reduce literature to ideology, got on my nerves and struck me as its own brand of resentment. I wish Bloom would have stuffed it all into an appendix or saved it for a book I would not have had to purchase.

Harold Bloom is one of the best living critics. There, I said it. He's controversial, he's sometimes infuriating, but by God, he's right, and he never ceases to illuminate.

I was first exposed to the idea of the Western Canon about four years ago, in my 11th grade English class, where we compared the ideas of Harold Bloom and Henry Louis Gate, Jr. on the (actually nonexistent) canon. I didn't make much of it then, as I wasn't quite the literature junkie I am now, but it gave me a taste of the academic battle that is raging right now.

Gates, whose criticism I have no read, but who seems an admirable man, is a proponent of a more inclusive canon, that gives weight to works based on their writers. Bloom is much more of a purist, and I agree with him far more, in that he demands works be included strictly on the basis of the work alone. The author is almost nonexistent in the question of inclusion; all that matters is the quality of the work. Ever the controversialist, Bloom points out that the current "canon" is being watered-down by what he terms the "School of Resentment"; namely, the multiculturalist, feminist, Marxist, deconstructionist, etc. literary theorists. He is sensationalist at times, declaring in his `Elegy for the Canon' that he doesn't believe literature will ever return to its previous, exalted state, but for the most part he hits the nail on the head.

As an English majour forced to take many classes expounding the "School of Resentment" theories, I admit I have a bias toward Bloom and probably see it as more of a crisis than most. However, there is a sense in which literature is in danger. The number of readers of great literature seems to be decreasing, and when compared with the number of TV viewers and partakers of other, cheaper forms of entertainment, reading is all but disappeared. The "School of Resentment" is yet another undermining factor to the already endangered art of reading great literature, seeking to supplant the Wordsworths and Miltons with sub-par writers, simply because these sub-par writers happen(ed) to belong to a particular group. This is flat-out wrong, and makes English departments nationwide a laughingstock, in many cases.

But enough of my English majour's complaining: the criticism in THE WESTERN CANON is what matters most for many, and it tends to be good. I have had a general issue with Bloom in his at times anachronistic comparisons of authors, or application of ideas that don't always belong (Gnosticism seems to be his favourite, but I'm not sure it applies as widely as Bloom believes it does), but he is unparalleled in the land of general critics. One will not get anything extremely in-depth, as this is a book of general criticism, but many of the connections and erudite ideas Bloom expounds are stimulating, and encourage reading or re-readings of the great authors.

And perhaps, as some other reviewers have noted, that is what matters most about Bloom. His enthusiasm for reading, his religious devotion to literature, his unparalleled sense for the importance of the great authors--these are the factors that make him great. Reading Dr. Bloom--I call him that with intentional reference to Dr. Johnson!--is like finding an especially enthusiastic (and yes, opinionated) friend, with whom one can sit and share a cup of tea and discuss literature. He inspires you to read, and to think, and to think about what you read. All the complaints about the "School of Resentment" are right, though hyperbolic, but it is his unabashed love of literature that makes Dr. Bloom a critic of the ages.

Harold Bloom presents a robust, deep, pessimistic and impassioned defence of the canon in this vast book. His thesis is simple - the great books, with Shakespeare at the centre, and other canonical writers radiating out from him, are the ones central to life (if you don't know what they are there is an appendix at the back to get you thinking - and, no, it is not exclusive, nor does Bloom ever claim it is). The value of such books is not social, or economic, or political or moral, or anything but aesthetic. They demand to be read because they offer the highest that human literary endeavor can reach.

And bravo to Bloom for saying this. In Britain, we now have an education system where Meera Syal, a stand up comedian who has penned a couple of novels, has displaced Joyce and Pope from A level reading lists. Shame, shame and shame. Bloom follows Samuel Johnson in advancing great literature as something that makes particular representations universal. And how much contemporary fiction or poetry does this? Bloom's book, with its vast array of literary love and learning, and formidable memory links that ebb and flow like winged messengers between great writers of the ages, demands to be read more than ever. But sadly, Bloom fears he is part of a dying breed. In the conclusion, he articulates his worry that people now alive may witness a time when Shakespeare plays are no longer performed because there is no need. If this happens, then we cannot claim to be living in any sort of civilized society, no matter how democratic our leaders might claim it is.

Mr Bloom seems to have run out of gas, or whatever fuels him. He has become careless and repeats himself frequently.

He also contradicts himself. For example, on page 45 he says, "No other writer has ever had anything like Shakespeare's resources of language, ...," with which I agree. But then on page 59 he says, "Shakespeare's command of language, though overwhelming, is not unique and is capable of imitation."

I hate to say it, because I have enjoyed Mr Bloom's books, but I often have the feeling that he is just playing with words and hasn't really got the the heart (or the spirit) of the various writers he discusses, most especially, and ironically, Shakespeare himself.

Mr. Bloom's favorite critic is, I believe, Dr. Samuel Johnson. Johnson has given us the best of all critical advice about Shakespeare: don't read the critics, forget them, read Shakespeare, then read him again. I am afraid that I must second this view of the critics; in my experience they are a hindrance to one's understanding.

I wish Mr Bloom's publishers would do us readers a favor: put an asterisk at the top of each page on which Mr Bloom quotes Nietzsche's remark about what is already dead in our hearts. Enough already!

I knew, prior to reading this book, that I didn't like Harold Bloom.

I've encountered him over the years, primarily when he's condescended to comment on "popular literature," to inform us that we don't really know what we're about and are reading the wrong stuff.

I've always believed though that to truly have license to hate something, a fair hearing is required, and so I picked up The Western Canon. Maybe I would find my prejudice inaccurate (as has happened in the past)?

Not in this case, as it turns out.

There are things to be admired about Mr. Bloom. That he has built a career for himself; that he cares about promoting great works; that he sees through what he calls The School of Resentment, which seeks to redefine "good literature" according to the ethnicity/gender/social class of authors; that he has the integrity to fight the tide within his profession; that he is passionate.

This, however, is a poor book.

Other reviewers within these pages have already identified some of the reasons why it is poor -- Bloom's prose is nigh-unreadable, written (perhaps) for some incredibly rarefied audience, but not for any professor I've ever had, let alone a general reader. He uses effusive praise with large and impressive-sounding, but ultimately rather empty, words and phrases. He does all of this according to his own peculiar theories of "agon" and influence, which sometimes seem as cryptic and arcane as the criticism schools he dismisses.

His worship of Shakespeare, in particular, is just bizarre. I'm very fond of Shakespeare, but reading Bloom one gets the sense that, had Shakespeare not come about we wouldn't have a Canon to discuss at all. Indeed, Bloom seems to suggest that our very conscious lives -- yours and mine -- are somehow defined by Shakespeare's writings; that Shakespeare, somehow, "invented" us. I agree that Hamlet is a great character, but I believe that I could exist without him. Bloom apparently disagrees.

This book will not demonstrate to most or many why they truly ought to read the books Bloom mentions -- I find Bloom's aesthetic metric of influence to be cold, and very far removed from the joys I find in reading. However, I will take it from Bloom that there is *something* to be gained in the writers he cites, and will take value in the appendices he includes as a starting point for a deeper education.

Apart from the appendices, I believe that a prospective reader's time would be far better served reading Shakespeare, or Dante, or Milton, or any of the great writers that Bloom mentions, instead of reading Bloom himself. In short, The Western Canon does not make the western canon.

I find myself, at last, wondering what Shakespeare would have made of Bloom's Western Canon. I somehow suspect that he would decide that it really didn't have much to do with the plays he was writing, dismiss it, and get back to work.

The best part about these sketches of citizens of the mythical village of Winesburg is the simple but often lovely prose. The best told parts of the story and the parts with the best prose, deal with the Bentley family, the pastor who is unable to repress his sexual voyeuristic tendencies, the young gal who on a whim runs outside naked into the rain hoping it would relieve her mental strain, and some other parts.

The book is full of gloomy individuals dealing with dashed hopes, unfullfilled emotional needs, sexual repression, etc. Some of the characters suffer to some degree from psychological imbalance. Anderson focuses a great deal on the inner psychology of these characters. His presentation is reasonably realistic and effective though he loses his effectiveness somewhat toward the end. It may be difficult for a 21st century reader to recognize behavior and ways of thinking from late 19th century rural Ohio, but I think they are recognizable enough. Jesse Bentley is an interesting character. It is understandable, I think, how a man like him, facing the harsh conditions of rural Ohio in the 19th century, might develop a religious fanatacism that crosses the border into insanity.

One thing that struck me about the book is the meager insight the reader gets into George Willard's thoughts about the sometimes mentally unstable people who make rambling speeches to him about their philosophies of life, dashed hopes, etc. Perhaps George is too naive and has not seen much of the world in his 18 years of life, all of it spent in a rural village, and so he thinks the people he talks to are merely interesting folks and very ood people. Anderson does provide psychological insight into George's striving to find love and his struggles to reach adulthood, though I don't think this insight is always well presented toward the end of the book.

Anderson clearly shows the dashed hopes of some of the female characters in the book who are looking for real love but have husbands who don't share their particular conception of love.

Winesburg, Ohio is a collection of 20+ short stories about life in the small town of Winesburt, Ohio (a fictional town). The great thing about these stories is that they overlap and many of the characters make more than one appearance. The book covers life at the turn of the century and deals with everything from: envy, lonliness, wanting a sense of adventure, love, being lost, family and just gettin' by.

It's not a fast paced book by any means, it's a thoughtful composition of every day life, which is exactly why it is so enjoyable!

Winesburg, Ohio was written by Sherwood Anderson about a small town in Ohio. Not the town now known as Winesburg, Ohio, but another smalltown called Clyde, Ohio.
I read this book in 9th grade & I could recognize some of the places in the book. They are still there in my hometown.

It isn't often I get frustrated with any classics, but Winesburg, Ohio was different. It has some moments where it just seems to get lost in the prose (the only problem is that I mean this literally). While, there are some interesting moments about George Willard, his family and those who live in the same town, the story just didn't take off like some books do.

I enjoy symbolism and other literary elements in books, and try to read between the lines in books, but I just couldn't figure out where Anderson was going with the stories. Each story paints a picture of a resident of Winesburg, their struggles, their family history, etc, but the tales just seem to lack much coherence with the previous story. I was waiting for the "aha" moment, the epiphany of what was trying to be the point, but it never seemed to come. Moments and events about George Willard, and the local townspeople, and all their dreams and failures, seem to be understated to the point where their significance becomes a mute point. I felt myself going over passages again, feeling as though I missed something significant.

I can see how Anderson could have inspired authors such as Hemingway and Steinbeck in his style, as he has a simple approach in his prose, and he is able to carry a story. However, Anderson doesn't seem to have the ability to deliver the punch that Hemingway or Steinbeck did. Winesburg, Ohio is about as good as an early, unpolished Steinbeck novel. It has some moments where you really feel like something significant is about to happen, but then it kind of fades. While there is a basis for each character's story, there wasn't enough build up to care enough about the characters or their actions.

Some have found this book quite satisfying, which is great, but I feel as though the novel is average in its delivery.

Often credited as an inspiration by the renowned literati of the 20th century, Sherwood Anderson exhibited his subtle fineness and simple genius when he penned `Winesburg, Ohio' in 1919. Told as a collection of short stories, the `grotesque' inhabitants of the secluded town of Winesburg begin to relate to a young reporter, George Willard, and open up from the confinements of their society, revealing their inner hopes that will never be fulfilled, and their true sentiments that will remain repressed.

In each story, the reader is invited to observe the attempts by different townsfolk--of all social class--attempting to seek recognition, respectability and happiness within the community, while all the time internally seeking to justify their own existence in a society that does not seem to befit the effort. Cynicism abounds, as the characters either accept their failed hopes, or are seen to shrilly grasp onto the last motivation for any seemingly purposeful existence. While each character has the potential to be of some significance, all fail in achieving this, remaining inconsequential to the wider world. The opening up to George can be seen as a desperate to attempt to inject solid meaning onto their lives; unintentionally offering George (and the reader) a glimpse into the likely the future for the majority.

A book which explores the emotions behind failed ambition, despair and social cohesion, `Winesburg, Ohio' is a classic cogitation on the American Dream and the place of the individual in the greater world.

The first two sections of The Sound And The Fury have a reputation for being extremely difficult, and deservedly so. In fact, the first time I tried to read it, the Benjy Section made me feel dizzy, and I had to stop (I knew I wasn't going to get anywhere without a little orientation courtesy of Cliffs Notes, so I put it off for a while). But when I came back to it a few months later, this time prepared to do a little work to understand the chronology and characters, I felt like I was looking in on the deep south at the beginning of the twentieth century, and it was a unique and rewarding experience.

This is not to say, however, that Faulkner couldn't have made the book more accessible or easier to read. He certainly could have, and maybe that would have improved it. But to me, part of Faulkner's greatness was his willingness to experiment with form, to push the envelope of what a novel could do, so I strongly believe this book is worthy of praise just as it is. In fact, to me the Benjy Section isn't supposed to be accessible; it's supposed to make you feel just as confused and disoriented as Benjy felt. Basically, the entire section is experienced rather than processed, with no clear sense of space or time or logical connection, and that's what makes it so confusing. But to me that's also what makes it so amazing (and it's important to point out that the final two sections of the book are easy to read and very moving).

Now, I'm not saying I would recommend this book for beach reading necessarily, or as a page turner in the traditional sense. And I like to read those kinds of books too...I proudly acknowledge that I've read every Harry Potter book at least twice. But if you're looking for incredible dialogue, for symbolism, for experimentation, for a powerful sense of time and place, for imagination and a sense of humor, for an exploration of how the same events can be interpreted differently by different people, for a unique and compelling vision, for a challenge...then I'd recommend this book. It's tough, yes, but it's also a lot of fun. To me, it just depends on what you're looking for and what kind of mood you're in at the time. Faulkner certainly isn't all that accessible, he doesn't do a lot of favors to the reader, and he may be a bit pompous at times...all of that is true to a certain extent, but this time it struck me just right. Loved it.

Wanting something to read on vacation, I hurriedly grabbed the Vintage paperback edition from a dusty shelf in the back of my home office. The book had belonged to my stepson many years ago. As I thumbed through the pages, it began to fall apart.

I do not recall having to read The Sound and the Fury in college, but I knew it was famous. Other than that, I came to the book with an open mind but expecting excellence. To that end, I was sorely disappointed, despite some fine passages, but even those often contained unclear elements.