Bradford Books

This book contains Thoreau's journals from July 2, 1858 to February 28, 1859. In addition to the journal entries, it also includes black-and-white photographic plates of cobwebs in Barrett's Mill, water-lily, October reflections, Walden in early winter, and alder catkins in winter, all taken around 1900.

Thoreau spent much of this year honing his observation skills, commenting, "It is a good policy to be stirring about your affairs, for the reward of activity and energy is that if you do not accomplish the object you had professed to yourself, you do accomplish something else. So, in my botanizing or natural history walks, it commonly turns out that, going from one thing, I get another thing." Though man proposeth, God disposeth all." (Sept. 8, 1858) "Objects are concealed from our view not so much because they are out of the course of our visual ray...as because there is no intention of the mind and eye toward them. We do not realize how far and widely, or how near and narrowly, we are to look. The greater part of the phenomena of nature are for this reason concealed to us all our lives...Nature does not cast pearls before swine. There is just as much beauty visible to us in the landscape as we are prepared to appreciate,--not a grain more. The actual objects which one person will see from a particular hilltop are just as different from those which another will see as the persons are different. The scarlet oak must, in a sense, be in your eye when you go forth. We cannot see anything until we are possessed with the idea of it, and then we can hardly see anything else" (Nov. 4, 1858) "Not only different objects are presented to our attention at different seasons of the year, but we are in a frame of body and of mind to appreciate different objects at different seasons. I see one thing when it is cold and other when it is warm." (Nov. 17, 1858) "A transient acquaintance with any phenomenon is not sufficient to make it completely the subject of your muse. You must be so conversant with it as to remember it and be reminded of it long afterward, while it lies remotely fair and elysian in the horizon, approachable only by the imagination." (Feb. 13, 1859)

Thoreau greatly valued his home surroundings, noting, "Think of the consummate folly of attempting to go away from here! When the constant endeavor should be to get nearer and nearer here. Here are all the friends I ever had or shall have, and as friendly as ever. ...A man dwells in his native valley like a corolla in its calyx, like an acorn in its cup. Here of course, is all that you love, all that you expect, all that you are. Here is your bride elect, as close to you as she can be got. Here is all the best and all the worst you can imagine. What more do you want?" (Nov. 1, 1858)

On writing, he muses, "It is of no use to plow deeper than the soil is, unless you mean to follow up that mode of cultivation persistently, manuring highly and carting on muck at each plowing,--making a soil, in short. Yet many a man likes to tackle mighty themes, like immortality, but in his discourse he turns up nothing but yellow sand, under which what little fertile and available surface soil he may have is quite buried and lost. He should teach frugality rather,--how to postpone the fatal hour,--should plant a crop of beans.... It is a great art in the writer to improve from day to day just that soil and fertility which he has, to harvest that crop which his life yields, whatever it may be, not be straining as if to reach apples or oranges when he yields only ground-nuts. He should be digging, not soaring. Just as earnest as your life is, so deep is your soil. If strong and deep, you will sow wheat and raise the bread of life in it." (Nov. 9, 1858)

On health, Thoreau urges, "Measure your health by your sympathy with morning and spring. If there is no response in you to the awakening of nature,--if the prospect of an early morning walk does not banish sleep, if the warble of the first bluebird does not thrill you,--know that the morning and spring of your life are past. Thus may you feel your pulse." (Feb. 25, 1859)

In a rare entry referring to news of the day, Thoreau notes, "Last evening one of our neighbors, who has just completed a costly house and front yard, the most showy in the village, illuminated in honor of the Atlantic telegraph. I read in great letters before the house the sentence "Glory to God in the highest." But it seemed to me that that was not a sentiment to be illuminated, but to keep dark about. A simple and genuine sentiment of reverence would not emblazon these words as on a signboard in the streets. They were exploding countless crackers beneath it, and gay company, passing in and out, made it a kind of housewarming. I felt a kind of shame for [it], and was inclined to pass quickly by, the ideas of indecent exposure and cant being suggested. What is religion? That which is never spoken." (Aug. 18, 1858)

This book contains Thoreau's journals from March 2, 1859 to November 30, 1859. In addition to the journal entries, it also includes black-and-white photographic plates of Ball's Hill and river flood from Ponkawtasset Hill, ripples on Goose Pond, large juniper on Fair Haven Hill, view from Pine Hill over Walden Pond, toward Mt. Wachusett, and tufts of adropogon lighted by the sun, all taken around 1900 by Gleason.

Through his long years of nature studies, Thoreau was on the brink of comprehending the place of seasons in nature. He writes, "There are various degrees of living out-of-doors. You must be outdoors long, early and late, and travel far and earnestly, in order to perceive the phenomena of the day. Even then much will escape you. Few live so far outdoors as to hear the first geese go over." (Sept. 13, 1859) "A man must attend to Nature closely for many years to know when, as well as where, to look for his objects, since he must always anticipate her a little. Young men have not learned the phases of Nature; they do not know what constitutes a year, or that one year is like another." (Sept. 24, 1859) "There is a season for everything, and we do not notice a given phenomenon except at that season, if, indeed, it can be called the same phenomenon at any other season. There is a time to watch the ripples on Ripple Lake, to look for arrowheads, to study the rocks and lichens, a time to walk on sandy deserts; and the observer of nature must improve these seasons as much as the farmer his. (April 24, 1859)

Thoreau also had some insightful remarks about humanity and religion, noting, "All our life, i.e. the living part of it, is a persistent dreaming awake. The boy does not camp in his father's yard. That would not be adventurous enough, there are too many sights and sounds to disturb the illusion; so he marches off twenty or thirty miles and there pitches his tent, where stranger inhabitants are tamely sleeping in their beds jut like his father at home, and camps in their yard, perchance. But then he dreams uninterruptedly that he is anywhere but where he is." (Aug. 26, 1859) "The moods and thoughts of man are revolving just as steadily and incessantly as nature's. Nothing must be postponed. Take time by the forelock. Now or never! You must live in the present, launch yourself on every wave, find your eternity in each moment. Fools stand on their island opportunities and look toward another land. There is no other land; there is no other land but this, or the like of this. Where the good husbandman is, there is the good soil." (April 24, 1859) "The deep places in the river are not so obvious as the shallow ones and can only be found by carefully probing it. So perhaps it is with human nature." (July 5, 1859) "It costs us nothing to be just. It enriches us infinitely to recognize greater qualities than we possess in another." (Oct. 21, 1859) "Men of science, when they pause to contemplate "the power, wisdom, and goodness" of God, or, as they sometimes call him, "the Almighty Designer," speak of him as a total stranger whom it is necessary to treat with the highest consideration. They seem suddenly to have lost their wits." (March 8, 1859)

On learning, he writes, "It is only when we forget all our learning that we begin to know. I do not get nearer by a hair's breadth to any natural object so long as I presume that I have an introduction to it from some learned man. To conceive of it with a total apprehension I must for the thousandth time approach it as something totally strange... You must be aware that no thing is what you have taken it to be." (Oct. 4, 1859) "I am invited to take some party of ladies or gentlemen on an excursion,--to walk or sail, or the like, --but by all kinds of evasions I omit it, and am thought to be rude and unaccommodating therefore...They do not think of taking a child away from its school to go a-huckleberrying with them. Why should not I, then, have my school and school hours to be respected? Ask me for a certain number of dollars if you will, but do not ask me for my afternoons." (Sept., 16, 1859) "There is always some accident in the best things, whether thoughts or expressions or deeds. The memorable thought, the happy expression, the admirable deed are only partly ours. The thought came to us because we were in a fit mood; also we were unconscious and did not know that we had said or done a good thing. We must walk consciously only part way toward our goal, and then leap in the dark to our success. What we do best or most perfectly is what we have most thoroughly learned by the longest practice, and at length it falls from us without our notice, as a leaf from a tree. It is the last time we shall do it,--our unconscious leavings." (March 11, 1859)

Thoreau also began dreaming of a public park system, a dream that John Muir would eventually follow through to fruition, "Each town should have a park, or rather a primitive forest, of five hundred or a thousand acres, where a stick should never be cut for fuel, a common possession forever, for instruction and recreation...There is meadow and pasture and wood-lot for the town's poor. Why not a forest and huckleberry-field for the town's rich?" (Oct. 15, 1859)

This is a 14-volume edition of Thoreau's daily journals, the first edition in which the journals were published in their entirety. It begins with some of Thoreau's earliest journal entries, before he went to live at Walden Pond, and continues up to his last entries before his death in 1862. Each volume contains about 500 pages of textual material, as well as a selection of 6 black-and-white photographic plates of topics mentioned in the journals taken by H. W. Gleason from 1899-1906. The last volume contains a general subject index following the regular journal material.

According to the historical introduction found in the 1981 Princeton University Press edition of the journals, Torrey and Allen did not simply print the journal entries as found in Thoreau's journals. Instead, they neatened up the text somewhat, in some instances correcting syntax errors and making punctuation usage uniform. They presented the material as chapters divided by month, and abstracted a general topic for each page, which appears in the top margin of right-hand pages, as well as a table of contents listing these topics. As additional assistance for finding specific entries, dates of the entries appear in the top margin of left-hand pages. In cases where Thoreau revised his work in the journals, and thus there are several possible versions of text to choose from, Torrey and Allen selected the one that had the smoothest sound. While such tinkerings with the text may be anathema to academics studying the underpinnings of Thoreau's writing, they all contribute to a version of the journals that is a genuine pleasure to read.

Indeed, once I began reading the journals in this edition, I could hardly put them down. Thoreau comes alive through his daily entries--it seems at times that the journal itself was his best friend, the one individual with whom he could share his intimate observations, the one who would understand his wonder at the natural world and not criticize how he chose to spend his time. Daily entries range from notes on the blossoming of flowers or the ripening of fruit, to material from an essay on John Brown, to metaphysical musings of the highest sort.

Highlights include:
--"A man must attend to Nature closely for many years to know when, as well as where, to look for his objects, since he must always anticipate her a little." (Sept. 24, 1859)

--"The forcible writer stands bodily behind his words with his experience. He does not make books out of books, but he has been there in person." (Feb. 3, 1852)

--"My profession is to be always on the alert to find God in nature, to know his lurking places." (Sept. 7, 1851)

"You must love the crust of the earth on which you dwell more than the sweet crust of any bread or cake. (Jan. 24, 1858)

--"My greatest skill has been to want but little." (July 19, 1851).

--I buy but few things, and those not till long after I begin to want them, so that when I do get them I am prepared to make a perfect use of them and extract their whole sweet." (April 9, 1854)

--I like best the bread which I have baked, the garment which I have made, the shelter which I have constructed, the fuel which I have gathered." (Oct. 20, 1855)

--"In my experience I have found nothing so truly impoverishing as what is called wealth, i. e. the command of greater means than you had before possessed, though comparatively few and slight still, for you thus inevitably acquire a more expensive habit of living, and even the very same necessaries and comforts costs you more than they once did. If instead of gaining, you had lost some independence, and if your income should be suddenly lessened, you would find yourself poor, though possessed of the same means which once made you rich. (Jan. 20, 1856)

--"I must say that I do not know what made me leave the pond. I left it as unaccountably as I went to it. To speak sincerely, I went there because I had got ready to go; I left it for the same reason." (Jan. 22, 1852)

--"Resolve to read no book, to take no walk, to undertake no enterprise, but such as you can endure to give an account of yourself. Live thus deliberately for the most part." (Aug. 23, 1851)

--"I have no time to read newspapers. If you chance to live and move and have your being in that thin stratum in which the events which make the news transpire, --thinner than the paper on which it is printed,--then these things will fill the world for you; but if you soar above or dive below that plane, you cannot remember nor be reminded of them." (April 2, 1853)

--" What right has my neighbor to burn ten cords of wood, when I burn only one? Thus robbing our half-naked town of this precious covering. Is he so much colder than I? It is expensive to maintain him in our midst.(April 26, 1857)

--"We are wont foolishly to think that the creed which a man professes is more significant than the fact he is. (Dec. 1, 1856)

--"The effect of a good government is to make life more valuable,--of a bad government, to make it less valuable. (June 16, 1854)

--"Each town should have a park, or rather a primitive forest, of five hundred or a thousand acres, where a stick should never be cut for fuel, a common possession forever, for instruction and recreation. (Oct. 15, 1859)

To truly understand Thoreau, one must become thoroughly familiar with his journals, and this edition of the journals provides a wonderful record of his ideas, his studies, and way of life, even if it is not the most accurate edition for close academic study.

This is a study of a selection of Yeat's poems in manuscript. The complete version in hardcover contains material on his plays and prose writings as well. Bradford notes, "With many late poems it is possible to study the entire external process of composition, beginning with their prose sketches and continuing through successive drafts until Yeats corrects the final typescript." This book reveals the steps in this process. This is an extremely interesting book for anyone interested in the process of creation. My favorite quotation is from the final page. It explains in part the success of a great poet. " . . . he never allowed his equipment to rust unused. Early and late he worked at his art strenuously. It is this continued faith in works that in part distinguished him from lesser poets, that and an unusual ability to stay at a poem until it came right."

What an amazing concept! My nieces loved the way they got to personalize the alphabet with everyone in their lives. It's real easy to do, and a great "quality time" project - we looked through pictures of people that they know and placed them in the slide-in pockets of the book. It's fun, it's creative and it's an incredible learning tool

I have to say that this is by far the BEST book that I have ever read in my life. If you are debating whether to buy it, don't even think twice about it. Trust me, you won't be sorry. I fell in love with Amber from the very beginning of the book. Her strength and determination to survive is inspiring. I did feel like slapping her when she begged Bruce Carlton for his love. Still, her love for Bruce is something you will never forget. I can't believe I had this book for a year before I read it. The minute I finished the book I came online convinced that there was a sequel. No such luck! However, there is a movie that was made in 1947.

I read this book based on recommendations since readers often compare its Amber to my favorite heroine, Scarlet O'hara. I differ. I think Amber mostly reminds me of Thackery's Becky Sharp (Vanity Fair) - someone I sometimes route for (when I can manage to feel sorry for her), but most the time I route against. I'll save a plot synopsis for other reviewers. There are only two words to describe my feelings while reading this novel...emotionally spent. This book is a delicious page-turner, yet I felt wretched, exhausted, tight, and anxious after every chapter. In that regard, Winsor accomplished what a great auther should - a stirring of emotions (but, the unhealthy kind). I think the only character in this novel without an ice-heart was Catherine of Braganza (and I grieve for her). Winsor's description of the Restoration is intriguing: she paints a picture of a period in which there is no conscience, no morals, and no integrity. I ponder why the world didn't self-destruct in the 1600s. The Plague didn't even affect a change in (the court's) lifestyles. Winsor taught me more about that period than I ever knew. All I can say is that I'm greatful, for once, that this is only a book; I sincerely don't yearn to experience any of it for myself.

A friend of mine got me into historical romances. I am more interested in the history behind it then the romance but I have to say that Forever Amber was such a page turner. You can't help but to adore Amber, be repulsed by her, feel sorry for her, be excited with her.
I love this book and I am looking for more like it. I found this one in a trade in book store and boy am I glad I did. Excellent reading.

If ever a book was written that required a sequel, it was this one.
Sixteen year old Amber St. Clare, ward of a yeoman farmer and his wife, falls instantly in love with a handsome cavalier who happened to stop by her tiny village for refreshment. Almost immediately, she surrenders her virtue to him and begs him to take her to London. "I won't ever marry you, Amber," he states and he keeps his word in spite of fathering three of her children over a ten year period. During his numerous absences, she manages to land in Newgate Prison for indebtedness, be rescued by a notorious highwayman, marry several men for their money or titles, take up a tarnished career as an actress and become one of King Charles II's favourite mistresses.

(Warning--could be a spoiler here)

Throughout it all, she maintains her love for the devastatingly handsome, Bruce Carlton. To my mind, Lord Carlton is the real villain of the piece. His vacillating between his obsession with her beauty and his desire to marry "quality" is annoying and unfortunately the "undoing" of Amber. It is a sad commentary of what a woman alone in that period had to do to get along in the world. She may have become hardened and scheming due to her circumstances, but she more than proved her mettle during the terrible London plague. I wonder if Kathleen Winsor or her estate has ever had any thoughts of a follow-up novel.

For all it was banned in Boston in the 1940s because of Amber's immoral life style,there is nothing explicit or graphic in this book. I could have liked it immensely, simply for the wonderful research the author did with regard to the 17th century Stuart Restoration period. One experiences that time and place as in no other book I have read about the era. As it is, like many other readers, I hated the ending which left me with an overriding feeling of aggravation.

I know some of you just love this book...and I'm happy for you...you are the good kind people who are able to go out into the world and make friends easily because you see the good in everyone regardless of how horrible and shallow and rotten they are.

I am not like you...I'm fussy, I'm particular, I'm very judgmental...and I could only stand to read 323 pages of this awful book!

I too am one of those people who thinks you should finish the book if you start it. I have never left a review about a book that I didn't complete, I'm making an exception here because 323 pages IS a book for most authors and certainly plenty long enough for me to know I wasn't going to like it any better by reading 650 more.

If you are particular like I am and you like what I like (take a look at my other reviews to get an idea) you will probably think this book is horrid drivel too. But if you liked Slammerkin you might just love this.

I did not like any of the characters, they were rotten, especially Amber. I have to like someone in the story in order to read 975 pages about them, I'm funny like that.

The character development was seriously lacking, the dialogue was horrid, the story line was barely if at all believable...And I will admit I am happy to suffer all of those things if I love the protagonist. Here, I couldn't even like her.

Save your money and borrow this from the library if you have to read it!
The two nice things I can say are the cover is pretty and it's heavy enough to use as a doorstop.

I was pleased with the "used" book I received. It was in very good shape. No dustcover, but I didn't expect one on a "used" book. The binding was in very good condition, and I received it in a timely manner.
Thanks!

An excellent book, Mary Stewart begins to tell the tale of a young
Merlin. Here, Merlin is a boy, son of a Welsh princess. A geeky type of
kid, with an interesting is learning, this marks him as odd. People
think liking this stuff is so odd they begin to talk about him as being
the offspring of a demon!

Demon geek, there you go. No one likes him, if other words, so he
has to leave. He ends up finding his father, Ambrosius, an ex-king, and
studying some more.

Then there is the whole thing with Ambrosius' brother Uther.

Mary Stewart delivers a quick read that takes the reader to the beginning of the Arthur story. Merlin develops from a young, retreating boy to a self-assured (perhaps cocky?) man who can receive visions but cannot control them. The characters are real and well-drawn (I especially liked Ambrosius) and the machinations and battles for control of Britain are handled thoroughly, but from a distance. There is a sense of build-up that does not quite pay off, but will lead the reader nicely into the next book in the series.

Exactly what I was in the market for. A well written fantasy novel that is so convincing you'll think it really happened... I highly recommend this book and the other two in the series.

The first in the four part Arthurian/Merlin Saga. Told by Merlin himself, the book introduces the reader to a divided Britain, and adds some realism to the Wizardry mythology.
The saga continues with The Hollow Hills (The Arthurian Saga, Book 2)

AWOS was the first fiction novel that I read that I fell in love with the character. Emma Harte is a terrific heroine. One for the ages. I read it over 20 years ago and I have never found a novel to compare. It's not the easiest book to read and I often had to pick up a dictionary to search for a word. Nevertheless it is a wonderful rags to riches tale. I will never forget this book.

Great for a quick tape of the best Bradford book. Note that it's "British" english.

Even if you have read this novel, you may want to pick it up again. The compelling story is not one easily forgotten.

A Woman of Substance was probably one of the best books I have ever read - I have read it twice now. Definitely a must read book!

This book changed my life. I read it when I was 15 years old. I am 30 now and I still talk about it. I found the movie on DVD and was very impressed. Emma Harte gave me the strength to be something great.

Benjamin Franklin's Way to Wealth is incredible for its practical advice explained through examples. A short and easy read, the book is full of useful information and I think as far as financial books go, this is the starting point. Before spending money on books by the newer authors, start with this one.

Franklin used the principles he spells out here to amass a fortune in the turbulent colonial economy. In his will, he left two trust funds for the cities of Boston and Philadelphia, with orders to cash them in after 200 years. When they were finally cashed in a few years ago, they were worth about 4 million dollars! Read this book to find out how Franklin did it...

I think that The Way To Wealth is very good. Benjamin Franklin includes a lot of useful saying in it like, "It is hard for an empty bag to stand up right." After he writes a saying, he explains it. It's contents could very well be true to it's title.

You read and consistently practice whats in this book and you will be on your way to wealth.

I can't say that there's any eye-opening information in here, but it's pretty neat just to take in the writing style. The best lesson I got out of this book is even when you're spending $5, think of where else that $5 can help you out. Which one is more important?

This is a very uneven mix of short stories. Some were five star, but others were one star. Part of the time I looked at the narrator as Goofy from the cartoons. At other times - Goofy-er.

He should have waited until he had more of the caliber of "Catface" and "Dogs" before putting together a book. The other stories made me feel this was everything he had ever written. Perhaps that's a bit unfair but ....

He has talent and a very imaginative weirdness that I hope he can continue to develop.

...if you're tired of the same old thing. This book is a simple, cool, straighforward breath of fresh air. I just read some of this reviews and it's clear that some of these folks just don't get it. If you are an academic type who likes long ornate descriptions and, well, pretentious attempts at emotional depth, then perhaps you won't like "Dogwlaker". This book is the antidote to all that, really. The stories have good plots! Strange and beautiful! It's an easy, fun read, in the best sense of the word. I've been reccomending "Dogwlaker" to my friends for months and some have said, "huh?" while others are delighted. Check it out and see what side of the fence you're on.

What do a ten-pound slug, a three-legged dog, and a circus family that resembles cats have in common? Welcome to the world of Dogwalker, a collection of 12 short stories by Arthur Bradford, where digging beneath the underbelly of society is par for the course. The characters seem to have left the set of a David Lynch movie, perhaps Lost Highway - one's not quite sure whether life is real or just a dream.

Yes, dogs play a major role in several of the stories in the small volume. Besides the three-legged dog, there are mutant puppies, a refrigerated dead puppy and a breed of half-dog, half-human species. The latter appears in the story, Dog. The narrator begins, "No doubt you'll think I'm strange when I tell you I've been making love with my girlfriend's dog." Strange is an understatement as the story progresses into a science-fiction realm akin to H.G. Wells' novel, The Island of Dr. Moreau.

Disturbing as the thought of procreation via bestiality may be, it is the detachment of the protagonist in each story that will produce palpable shivers. In the opening story, Catface, a blasé attitude is apparent as the main character lists a montage of strange roommates he has shared a studio apartment with. "He breathed very heavily through his nose and when he spoke the words came out in high-pitched squeaks. Thurber moved quickly with jerks and twists like spasms and for a while I thought he was diseased." Thurber also had a strong dislike for houseplants (meaning he would toss them out the window upon first sight).

The stories are dark but there are enough peculiar laughs to keep the book from falling into pure drama. The characters are fresh and imaginative; Bradford brings them fully alive through precise dialog. You may want to peek ahead at times to satisfy your piqued curiosity. The O. Henry Award winning author has written about the extremes of society with honesty and clarity. However, there is no pity shown for the lives showcased, instead a notion of acceptance rings throughout the book. This is most evident in the story, Bill McQuill. Half a man would have succumbed to their fate with bitterness and anger (bad pun intended here, you'll have to read the story).

Dogwalker can be easily read within an afternoon as the author holds our interest in the motley bunch. Be prepared to be saddened, cheered and lose your breath for a bit while reading this satisfying surreal book of short stories.

Bohdan Kot

The Dogwalker is a collection of short first-person stories that mostly revolve around dogs. In perhaps the most bizarre of the bunch, the narrator has sex with his girlfriend's dog, which spawns a tiny man and results in several generations of dog/men mutations. Another story, my favorite, starts: "It seemed like a pretty simple trick to me. My friend Robert would hold the apple in his mouth while I, steady-handed, carved his initials into the piece of fruit with a chainsaw." Bradford walks you into bizzaro world slowly, starting out with stories I thought were a little odd and progressing to some of the weirdest stories I've ever read. What I love about the stories is their assumptiveness. It is never questioned whether or not chainsawing initials into an apple in someone's mouth is a good idea, or whether mating with canines is morally permissible. It just takes the premise and runs with it. It's a quick read, and very entertaining. It's also one of the only current books I've read which reminds me of Richard Brautigan's writing style.

Arthur Bradford deftly walks the ledge of the mundane, tipping but not quite falling into a marshy terrain normally reserved for dreams. I love his style of mixed realism and the surreal, all delivered with a safe and unaffected deadpan tone. Many weeks later, little oddities from these stories are still skulking around my mind.

Comparisons are difficult, but Richard Brautigan's "In Watermelon Sugar" and Denis Johnson's "Jesus' Son" come to mind.