Robertson Books

This is one of the best series of books on popular musicians and this particular book packs in a lot of information into a small size. A lot of this background, however, can be found in the respective CD booklets. Good overview but a bit repetitive. Uses similar pictures to Vol 1.

For people who have loved reading Robertson Davies' books, this is an interesting and enlightening compendium of interviews with one of Canada's foremost men of letters. The reading itself is a little tedious at times (though Davies is always lively) and if you haven't read any of Davies' other books, don't start with this one.

Norman Lindsay is one of Australia's best writers - though few in Australia think so. While most Australian reviewers are too intent on Australians mimicking Europeans, USers, and Latin Americans, Lindsay is a truly Australian writer, glibly throwing off line after line of larickinism.

He's one of the world's most gifted painters and he's a natural writer. He writes small, comic novels. A Curate in Bohemia follows the path of a young man considering the priesthood, who instead spends his time and money on alcohol and food with some artists.

This isn't a book that one reads for the plot. Lindsay has that rare ability to use words originally and properly. He has D.H. Lawrence's spirit, with an earthy sensuality. He also has a laconic, larikin, dry sense of humour.

He has written better books than this one - Redheap is his classic - but they are not all on the website. If you get a chance, read it. He's the modern Mark Twain and the only original novelist Australia has probably produced.

A generation ago Upfield wrote a series of books about his Australian detective hero, a half-Aborigine police detecitve named Napoleon Bonaparte. A brilliant, mystical, and fragile character with an understanding of both the white man and aboriginal culture, all the books are readable, although they do vary widely in plausibility.

This is the best one I've read. It's high summer in the outback, and there's a murder at an isolated station near an intermittent lake that's about to evaporate in the deadly heat. Everyone at the station house suspects and resents each other, feelings which grow and grow as the book builds and builds. It's a dangerous place for a detective in disguise.

But the best part of the book isn't the mystery. Upfield's greatest talent was in describing the natural life of his Australia, he can bring the beauty, mystery, and power of an overwhelming land vividly to life. As the tension in the house grows and the danger increases, the temperature soars to 120 degrees and above, the lake outside dies by inches, the water level sinking by feet per day, acres of lake vanishing, the wildlife fleeing or dying. It's a hard trick to put this much nature in a book without being heavy-handed or having it come accross as bad metaphors, but it's very successful here. The lake is the star, the people merely provide a story. Way cool!

Alice James interests many as not only the sister of two great writers but as an example of a writer struggling to make her voice heard against the torrents of misogyny and dreadful illness. Her diary is ably edited by Leon Edel, and contains a lot of shrewd portrait-painting of her brothers (including the third, not-famous brother who sparkles throughout this diary, even though he left this life without a shadow), as well as some general philosophy. She is ever ready to remind herself that she is a child of privilege, and yet a trace of self-pity remains, like some stubborn stain that proves unexpectedly difficult to scrub out.

"What an awful loss it is that we can't see our own follies," James writes, "they must be so much more exquisite than any one's else, but as vanity is what keeps the world agoing, after one or two convulsive laughs, the game would certainly be up!

"Shall I ever have any convulsive laughs again! Ah, me! I fear me not. I had such a feast for 34 years that I can't complain." Anyone who wants to know about American writing at the turn of the century should get a copy of this book. "What difference is there in the spiritual essence of two viragoes fighting on their door-steps over a coal-ticket, left or not left by the district visitor and that of two great ladies at daggers drawn over their seat at some function or other?--all simply scrambling for something they haven't got."

I was given this book as a present when I was a child. It is the story of a boy and his dad who travel together and are best friends, until his father is killed in a car accident and the boy has to go and live with his Uncle and Aunt on their remote Australian Farm. With his cousins away at boarding school, he spends the summer slowly recuperating from his injuries and grieving for the loss of his father. Human relationships are too complex for him to fully embrace and it is a dingo (wild dog) that first helps him to recover, by taking a relationship back to the basics of need and help. This is reciprocated with the Boy helping the dingo out of trouble as he gradually blends with his new environment.

Similar stories have been told before, but as a child this rang very true to me. The writer has written a very honest and accurate account of how it feels to be a lonely boy, and the prose is descriptive (from the well-meaning relatives, to the beautiful but isolated locations), so that the story is fully involving.

A little too depressing for younger readers, perhaps, but a lovely tale that slightly lonely children should be able to relate to well.

I'll never part with my copy.

Sobering to realise that it is now 32 years since Whitlam was sacked by the Governor General. This book, written just a few years after the events, is an evocative recall of the tumultuous year of 1975. While the rest of the world was riveted on other matters, Australia endured its most divisive peacetime years.

The book explains how Whitlam constantly ran into his lack on numbers in the Senate. Especially frustrating to him and other Laborites, because they'd spent a generation out of federal power, and had an ambitious agenda to implement. It was certainly daring of him to try to govern after the Senate rejected his budget ("Supply"). We see arguments as to who flouted convention. Was the Liberal-Nat coalition in the Senate justified in rejected the budget, from a party that had decisively won the lower House in 73? One answer, by Labor, is that the coalition should have acceded to this electoral result. And that in not doing so, it was perverting the democratic process.

The coalition's rejoinder was that they had a constitutional right to review and, in this case, reject Whitlam's budget. That it was Whitlam who grossly ignored convention by not calling an election, and instead trying to govern when his money was running out.

All this is covered by the book. Brings back memories for some of us.

The illustrations in this book are gorgeous and are a good reason to buy it for your dragon fans. In the story the boy rides his dragon to an evil castle where a wizard is hoarding and freezing dragon eggs of every variety. The boy helps save the dragon eggs while riding his own dragon. A nice fantasy story.

I met John Robertson (one of the authors) during the late 1960's. Since I was working as a Research Assistant on a National Institutes of Health Research study on the long term effects of LSD on "normal" adults, I was privy to share my perceptions of LSD and marijuana with the author. The author of the study on LSD, William H. McGlothlin, Ph.D, had previously written research papers and monographs on the use of cannabis. At the time the book "Drugs and Public" was written, the climate of drug use in the United States was very, very different than it is now. Most of the people I knew who were using LSD and marijuana were intelligent, sophisticated, educated adults who were using these substances to gain more insight into themselves and society. Those of us who used LSD to obtain "transcendental" experiences gained tremendously from the experience. Unfortunately, due to the politics of the time, any drugs that allowed you to perceive "reality" was a threat to the society, and thus banned. The banning of LSD probably set back brain research about 20 years. It's an interesting book, but keep in mind, it was written at a time when "drug use" was totally different than it is now. Today, for example, people who use acid, use it "for kicks." These people are missing the whole point, and one can understand the prohibition for it's use. LSD should NOT be used by children and adolescents. Plus, if one is going to use it, they need to be very well prepared. It is not a "fun" drug. It will "shove you down your own throat." If you don't want to gag on it, be prepared.

This book thoroughly explains each commonly used electrotherapy modality, the physiological indications for its use, and gives thorough guidelines and principles for the dosage and application of each.

It is presented in traditional textbook style and makes use of clear diagrams and graphs to aid one's understanding of concepts. After reading each chapter you will be able to apply principles in a logical way to decide on appropriate treatment for your patient's specific condition.

It is however not an "quick reference" book where you can quickly find the dosage to use for a particular modality. The book is aimed at giving the reader a thorough understanding of why and how to use a chosen modality and would not be easy to use at a glance in a busy practice.

Recommended for students and those with time to read chapters thoroughly.