Wang Books

Ms. Wroe has come upon a seeming wealth of untouched historical data in the form of Rodez's archives. Unfortunately, she stresses the story of a pot of gold at the beginning of the book but never sticks to that main stream. She uses the "story" to bring in all sorts of fascinating information about business and social life in this French town, but these tangents don't bring us any closer to resolving her main story-line.

As earlier reviewers have stated, perhaps she should have stepped over that line into historical fiction where she could use the business and social history of the town, as well as the main idea concerning the pot of gold and constructed a fine fictional tale that would have been more pleasing, as well as having better flow.

A useful book for the information on business, law, and society in this unique town, but don't buy it expecting to find the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

Ms. Wroe has done readers a great service in bringing to life the partitioned town of Rodez during the 1300s. This is the type of historical writing that actually permits you to experience the daily life of a city beleagured by the "English," who behaved more like roving gangs than soldiers of the Crown, an image difficult to infer from the conventional textbooks that focus on macro-level, sweeping events. I much prefer this to the historical novel. While such novels always have a grain of truth; it is much more difficult to ascertain where fiction ends and nonfiction begins. Wroe uses her imagination, to be sure, but she is following archival material and, as a result, we are given allowed the opportunity to see part of an era and its people that might well have escaped our view.

Ann Wroe announces in her introduction that, "We are dealing in fact, not fiction," and that she will permit herself only the smallest liberties when going beyond the known facts. If, for instance, "we know the path a man travelled to go home (as in one case we do), and what lay along it, it seems no offense to historical truth to retrace his steps."

Fair enough. But these are not the kind of remarks that we normally see at the start of a history book, and they serve as a warning that Wroe is going to be writing something that might be mistaken for a novel. The warning is well taken: "A Fool and His Money" does indeed come across as a poor novel filled with fascinating facts. One major problem is that virtually everything Wroe truly knows about her characters is related to their legal woes. They're continually in trouble with various civil and ecclesiastical courts, and if they get a few days of breathing space, they use it to litigate against their own friends, neighbors, and family members. A second problem is that her main story line has no resolution and dwindles away at the end of the book; the facts just aren't there.

I'm glad I read the book. I learned some worthwhile things about everyday life in Fourteenth-Century France. But the experience was more of a chore than a pleasure, and I wish Wroe had written either an historical novel or a non-novelistic historical text. Come to think of it, she could use her material a second time to write a novel. If she does, I'll read it.

Why has no one made a movie of this book? A magnificent hill town in central France in the century of the Hundred Years War, a prolonged courtroom drama with gold at stake and with the whole community embroiled, a befuddled miser as the central character, his sly in-laws as the antagonists, the clergy and the bourgeousie in subtle conflict. Of course, a lot of the historical data and analysis would have to be omitted - that stuff about markets and trade, civic government, the effects of war on the economy, the efforts of people to avoid onerous taxes - and then a heady dose of imagination applied to achieve a satisfying denouement... but think of it, with Louis Malle directing and Gerard Depardieu as the judge!

I've read all six previous reviews of this book, all six complaining that too much historical information is included to distract the reader from the exciting tale of greed, all suggesting that Ann Wroe should have written anovel instead. Well, pardon me, friends, but you've missed the point. Yes, Ann Wroe writes very well and no doubt could have invented a proper novelistic ending for her narrative, but entertaining you was not her chief purpose. What she's written here is an insightful account of the life of ordinary people in an ordinary town, the sort of people who are seldom observed in history. Here's what she says about her own work:

**The story of [Peyre] Marques was preserved quite accidentally. We know about him only because a pitcher of gold was found buried in the floor of his shop. His son-in-law took it away, and ownership of the money was disputed in court. The result was a full-scale inquiry -- detailed character references, anecdotes, gossip -- about a man who was perfectly ordinary... For that reason alone, this case is precious. History keeps memorials of the great, the saintly or the vicious, but we may pine for the chance to hear about men and women more like ourselves: common folk.

Wroe's chief source for her narrative is the preserved court transcript from a trail in Rodez, France, in 1370. But Wroe also draws from other sources, principally her huge horde of general knowledge about the Middle Ages, the Hundred Years War, the history of the clergy in France, etc. In other words, the trial is only a framework for an attempt to describe the activities and values of a historical community, as little fictionalized as possible. I've studied a bit of this history also, and I've never read a book that captured an image of life in the Middle Ages more vividly yet reliably.

Like one of those reviewers who wanted a novel instead of a history, I enjoyed this book so much that I hoped for a sequel. The divided city of Rodez - the upper town dominated by the Church, the lower town by merchants - seemed so picturesque in the book that I actually drove half way across France to visit modern Rodez. Sadly, Rodez is perhaps the least well-preserved city in all the Massif Central, and much as I would like to follow the descendents of Peyre Marquez, like characters in Zola, on their journey toward the present, there can be no sequel to "A Fool and His Money" for the simple reason that no other such archival source is likely to be found. That the transcript of this trial has survived is a miracle in itself, which Ann Wroe has exploited brilliantly. With history this good, only a fool would ask for fiction.

I have to agree with the reviewer below and ask why this book was not written as a historical novel. Anne Wroe is a terrific writer but she limited herself far too much in this little book. It could have been great. Should have been great. My wife and I visited Rodez on a recent trip from Switzerland to Andorra and I must say, Wroe was factually correct and Rodez, although not conventionally "pretty" was certainly a fascinating place! Please, Ms. Wroe, write another book. Set it in France and make it historical fiction. You'll find yourself on the bestseller lists, I'm sure and you'll deserve to be there!

First I must disagree with the reviewer who calls a noun followed by an apostrophe and an "s" a possessive noun. There is room for legitimate argument here, and I prefer to call such a word a possessive adjective. To me it is far more adjective than noun and so the noun part of it can't be an antecedent for a later pronoun. Therefore, I agree with what the reviser of Follett's book says rather than with what he does. Another man, who was once an English professor at Ohio State (Corbett, I think), and for all I know may be there still, also frowns heavily on the use of a possessive noun or possessive adjective as an antecedent. One must simply find a way to reconstruct passages that tempt one to break this commandment.

I once read Follett's book from cover to cover. The man (not he) was an elegant writer. Nowadays I dip into it to refresh my memory and to find passages to use as arguments in pointing out the writing faults of others.

Description is a fine thing, but I'm a member of the prescriptive school and so am perfectly happy with Follett's edicts. When several people are working together to produce a single book or series of books, they must all be following the same path.

My only objection to Follett's book is the lack of an index. His section titles are not always straightforward or descriptive, so some things are hard to find.

Wensberg's revision of Follett's Modern English Usage is one of those "Do as I say, not as I do" usage books. Careful readers of this book will have no trouble finding examples of Wensberg violating his own proscriptions. One example should be enough for this forum. On page 29 Wensberg writes "Perhaps the possessive noun is the part of speech most often mistaken for an antecedent. `On the Vice President's arrival at Kennedy Airport, he explained to reporters that...' The pronoun `he' could represent `the Vice President' (no 's), because both are in the nominative case. But the possessive `Vice President's' is no `he;' it serves as an adjective." Yet in his introduction on page viii he writes "I have gained both space and speed by trimming prolixities from Follett's prose and by making some explanations a bit simpler than he left them." So much for a possessive noun not being an antecedent to a pronoun.

The idea that a noun is the genitive case is an improper antecedent to a pronoun is erroneous. A noun in the genitive case is noun, not an adjective. In fact for as long as there has been an English language the case of antecedent noun has been irrelevent to a pronoun.

And that's all you need to know.

As one who thinks it necessary to own every major English usage manual from Fowler on, I here state the firm opinion that Follett is the best of the reasonably contemporary examples and second only to Fowler. Follett is more erudite, more complete (not more comprehensive, I grant), and more analytical than the rest. (Yes, Bryan, this means you). For example, compare his treatment of the indefensible "in terms of" to any other.
Someone speaks here of "disagreeing" with Follett's remarks on prescriptivism. Well, if you're not a prescriptivist then you oughtn't be reading usage manuals, and if you are one yet still disagree, you'd better find arguments more persuasive than his.
Another critic says Follett isn't terribly useful as a quick
how-to guide. Well, true, but the genuine articles never are.

A poor, incomplete and unwieldy reference. "Modern American Usage" fails to deal with many of the everyday issues people struggle with in their writing -- the list of omissions is long and varied -- and those that are included are sometimes addressed with a lack of thoroughness or clarity. Too often, and too irritatingly, entries merely redirect users to other headings, when the issue could easily have been resolved under the original entry-heading. Those involved in creating this edition seem not to appreciate that a little duplication goes a long way in making what is, first and foremost, a craftsperson's tool user-friendly.

This is a very handy book. Some will have different views of the guidance this book provides, but for the general writer this book can be very helpful. There is an essay in the back: "On Usage, Pedantry, Grammar, and the Orderly Mind". The more you agree with this essay the more you will like this book. And the more you find yourself disagreeing with the essay you will find yourself disliking this book.

It is organized in a way that looks like a dictionary, but you may or may not be using the same word or phrase as the book to find a specific topic. So, there is an Inventory of Main Entries in the front of the book you can quickly scan to find what you are looking for and then turn to that term in the main part of the book.

There is a lot of personal preference in deciding whether you like Fowler or Follett and which edition of either of them you choose. But I think any of them is better than struggling on your own. Even if you disagree with the book's recommendations you will have made a more informed choice. You will find your writing more confident and more clear. Isn't that enough?

This book starts out with the mention of "King Manuel I of Portugal presenting Pope Leo X with a white elephant from India". I know that Professor Zemon Davis (ZD) didn't intent this as irony but it is. Most of this book, a white elephant in itself, is based on heresy, guesses and flights of fantasy. The only parts of the book that she is truly able to document are the nine years that 'Leo Africanus: Giovanni Leone" spent in Europe, with seven of those being in Italy.

While in Italy he is purported to have written "Description of Africa" which was considered one of the few books written in Europe in the sixteenth century to document the Geography and sociology of North Africa. The book was written in Italian by the slave "Yuhanna al-Asad" who was born in Granada (Spain), brought up in Fez (Morocco) and captured by Christian pirates and given as a gift to Pope Leo X. This is the extent of what is known about our hero.

ZD spends over two hundred and seventy pages telling us this story that could be contained in a paragraph. The rest of the book are her musing on the Roman Catholic Church and the machinasation of the church curia over how to counter Martin Luther and to recapture North Africa and the Holy Land from the Moslems.

If your interested in this book read the Intro and the Chapters on Italy and the Comparison between Islam and Christianity, and skip the rest. As an example of the 'wistfulness' of this book, ZD spends sixteen pages on his 'return' after telling us that nothing is known about what happened to him after he left Italy.

This book isn't really history or biography for that matter. Its an in-between kind of book that wants to imagine a past into existance based on speculation rather than evidence or fact. The factual details of the life of Leo Africanus would make a chapter. And even the facts we do have about his life are colored by a particular point of view which has to be questioned.

Natalie Davis does her best based on all sorts of other material to imagine a public and private life for the man. As speculative fiction, it works. The only problem being that ignorant readers will begin to take this book as if were fact rather than a created story. The fault I find is that the book doesn't draw enough distinction about what is being imagined versus the actual facts of his life.

The book is very good, but its not history or biography and should not be read as history or biography.

To read a really excellent book about Leo The African, I recommend the far superior "Leo Africanus" by Amin Maalouf, a winner of several literary awards and an amazing book.

One star, there being no zero. While the wish to explore the subject is understandable, the outcome is confusing and boring. Read it if you want to find out how an interesting subject can become dull.

TRICKSTER TRAVELS: A SIXTEENTH-CENTURY MUSLIM BETWEEN WORLDS could also have been featured in our 'travel' section for its fascinating travelogue entries; but is reviewed here for its value to any studying 1500s history. Al-Wazzan trveled widely as an ambassador and merchant throughout Africa in the early 1500s, was captured by Spanish pirates and presented to Pope Leo X, where he converted to Christianity while explaining Islam to his puzzled audience. The charged politics and turmoil of his life and times brings history to life, with history professor Davis using manuscripts of the times - including some previously unknown - to explore fully al-Wazzan's image and importance. Unfamiliar with his name? Try 'Leo Africanus', author of the first geography of Africa.

Diane C. Donovan
California Bookwatch

A reviewer from Bangalore hit the nail on the head when they said this book was meant to be an introduction into understanding China. This book is very easy to read and does an excellent job providing the reader a very general overview on China. If one is more interested in China's economy, something written by Nicholas Lardy or other economists with works on China would be appropriate; Minxin Pei is well known for his work on rural unrest in China, and so on and so forth. Bottom line, there are well known individuals for their work on China that can provide more details for certain areas. Mr. Starr leaves the reader to go out and deepen their knowledge.

The book tried to cover a lot of areas, which I think, has done quite superficially. And it seems to me that the author wrote the book to prove his points, and not exactly as the title suggested, to help understand China.

He gave a comparison of data between China and USA (which is good for american readers), however, as soon as the comparison does not support his point anymore, he would happily omit the data on the US and jump to his "conclusion" on China. As an example, to show his point that China's "huge" defense budget might be a concern for the stability of the region, he omitted the US defense budget to prove his point, as opposed to explain why/why not China needs such as budget. One has to look at the geographical size, and complexities of borders of China to see why China's defense budget is not that huge after all, as compared to the US's.

And there are a lot of areas like this in the book, or presented in a way that made Chinese people look like aliens, or made the country looks like it's FUBAR.

It is true that China has its fair share of problems. However, objective presentation is still in rigueur, especially for academic research.

It is disappointing, as you consider Starr's background, and the institution he is associated with. I'm not saying that he does not understand China, but he does not portray China in a way that help readers to understand China. Instead, it will just perpertuate the stereotyping.

This is a typical book, written by a "westerner", to prove a point. Readers who have very little knowledge of China should take it with a big grain of salt.

This book is a very neat compilation of facts and figures about China. It is also important to note what this book is not, which is a comprehensive dossier on China as it is today. The book's scope is introductory & to that end, it succeeds to a great extent.

The readership gets a lot of factual data about all that defines a country - its history, geography, politics, biggest issues, the military, environmental concerns & foreign policy. Although, I never suspected the author to back an established propaganda - the book is essentially erudite - I still do not discount a possibility that certain analysis & conclusions might, at times, seem coloured. I maintain, however, that if such is the case, it is probably more of a mistake than deliberate misleading.

Also, this densely information packed nature of the book can sometimes seem a positive handicap. Certain times, there is more information than is required to form an idea of the topic under discourse; & it is possible that a reader - who is not really concerned with research type material on China - might be actually burdened with this information overload. Chapter summaries or key points would have been great, given the depth of detailed data in this book.


I also maintain that China, or any country, is a trifle to complex to be "understood" by reading a book, but if it is an introduction that you're looking for, this book is a very good read.

S!

A political science professor of mine lent this book to me when I was batting around ideas for a term paper. I enjoyed this book for what it is and it doesn't claim to be the comprehensive body of knowledge on China's culture, history, politics and contemporary society. If you want that, spend your entire life in college studying it, but don't expect it from a book of this size.

This book is a wonderful tool for those who have a "beginner's interest" in China. This book inspired me to not only conduct my own research but to also read both broader and deeper into China's politics and history.

What is fascinating about this book is how much the author is able to cover. It's a very dense book full of information. If you're looking for insight and analysis, you might find it scattered between the paragraphs that have been well-researched.

One could easily know the necessary facts of Chinese culture and history after reading this book. It is also an accessible and well-organized book. I've used in research and it has helped to direct me to other bodies of research based on its content.

You will be satisfied with how adequate and resourceful this book is. If you're interested in just reading about China, or you're a student doing research, or a professor looking to brush up on China essentials, or even if you're just curious about some of the events in China's history, this is the book I'd recommend first and foremost.

This book accomplishes what it promises. It's a permanent member of my library and I have lent it to three people in the last two months, one of whom was another professor, who found it critical for her teaching of comparative Chinese politics.

Mr. Starr seems know a lot about China, but I don't think he understand China based on what he wrote in his book. His conclusion that "an abrupt collapse of the Party-state" is unlikely to happen. Just like those who predict Hong Kong will be a chaos after return to China's rule, Mr Starr failed to realize the fundermental change in China these days which will lead to a more stable China.

How often do we hear - or utter - the frequent complaint: "Why is life so complex?" However, as any evolutionary biologist would be pleased to remind you, this hasn't always been the case. Wallace Arthur takes up that fact forcefully in this book. Life began very simply and stayed that way for a very long time. Earth's population remained simple bacterial forms, some DNA stashed away in a protective enclosure, he reminds us, for over two billion years. Diversity, the foundation of the evolutionary process, seemed non-existent, yet this remains the core of biological teaching today. Arthur endeavours to set this record straight, doing so with an almost conversational delivery.

Keeping with the theme of simplicity, Arthur urges us to shed unnecessary philosophical thinking, opening with a chapter titled "Hand luggage only". The phrase recognises that most of us have preconceived notions of how life works. The core of that notion is that humans, just because they are complex creatures, sit somehow at the top of the evolutionary "ladder". The ability to think about life, which seems to be unique in our species, doesn't convey superiority. We are, after all, far outnumbered by the descendents of those simple organisms of long ago. Our species did emerge, and Arthur wants us to understand how. Instead of ladders, he uses the analogy of a lawn, level and with few disruptions.

Explaining life, to Arthur, is an exercise in pragmatism, not ideology. Using the cell as a starting point, his tour takes us to the embryo [he's a zoologist, hence the emphasis on animals instead of plants]. The embryo is a key feature in his theme, since it is here that cell duplication and diversification are best demonstrated. How does a fertilised egg know how to build a finished body from so elemental a beginning? The author explains how genes express proteins to guide the formation of organs and structure. Once it was thought that genes only expressed on one direction, but developmental studies now show that genes interact, even between distant cell hosts. Almost more importantly, he shows how, within limits, embryos bear evidence of their evolutionary roots. Complexity, arising from simple beginnings is a traceable process. Arthur shows how modern evidence allows tracking that path for such organs as nervous systems, hearts and circulation and other features.

In many ways, this is an admirable work. Arthur's chatty presentation makes one wish for a trip to Galway where he teaches to hear him discourse on this topic over a pint. He makes wonderful imagery in showing how our concept of "life" might need some re-thinking. What would a Martian arriving on a beach to discover a sand-castle think of such a regular structure? He returns to this idea in building his vision of complexity. Regrettably, he does this in a rather patchy manner, skipping about to address his topics. The novice reader will find this book something of a chore as a result. The book cries out for illustration - how many of his readers have seen graphics of the process of "gastrulation" which creates your insides? Why are trilobites important body forms? Although he provides a Glossary of terms, his "Further Reading List" is almost a joke.

Finally, almost lamentably, Arthur falls into the trap of trying to reconcile his studies with the notion of "creationism". Although he dislikes "creationists" as dishonest and abrasive, he concedes their numbers, particularly in the US. Instead, his final chapter is a declaration of his "agnosticism". He has already taken a swipe at Richard Dawkins over how "gradual" natural selection works. Here, he delivers what he clearly thinks is a telling blow, linking Dawkins' non-theism with a form of "faith". Declaring there's "no evidence either way", Arthur turns to John Maynard-Smith's observation that some fish with tails spotted like stellar constellations might be suggestive of a divine being. Since that sort of evidence hasn't appeared, the author thinks he can let the matter rest. It's a very insubstantial way to conclude what is otherwise a generally delightful read. [stephen a. haines - Ottawa, Canada]

Arthur Wallace's book is an informal account of how biological complexity has arisen in the evolutionary history of life. The book is written in a conversational style and the individual chapters are short, giving the reader the satisfying feeling that he is `getting somewhere'. It is clear that Wallace, a professor of zoology, knows his subject well. While I agree with the author's thesis that the evolution of complexity can be largely explained through Darwinian evolution by natural selection (that is, without invoking additional mechanisms or anything supernatural or mysterious like an `intelligent designer'), I found the book generally disappointing in its lack of detail concerning the evidence supporting the account he proposes (which I feel could have been encapsulated in a brief essay instead of a full-length book). Wallace notes that a basic strategy for creating novelty and for building biological complexity can be expressed in just a few words: Duplication, Diversification, and Co-option- old genetic tools and morphological elements doing new tricks. Co-option (or `exaptation') is the process by which a structure or system with an original function adds or changes to a new function, a process which is enabled by redundancy and duplication. These ideas are not new, having been discussed in greater depth by a number of other evolutionary biologists and geneticists. While it is good to see them summarized succinctly in this book, there is a frustrating paucity of detail concerning specific examples of this evolutionary process. Wallace stresses the important role of alterations in developmental pathways as engines of evolutionary novelty, an idea which is also not new and embodied in the field of "Evo-Devo" (the study of evolution from a developmental perspective). However, discussion of Evo-Devo in the book is frustratingly limited (for readers seeking greater depth, I recommend Sean Carroll's book, Endless Forms Most Beautiful).

Wallace concludes that evolutionary history, at least in its broad strokes, is probably more predictable than has been acknowledged by other scientists stressing evolutionary contingency and divergence (e.g., S.J. Gould). Replaying the tape of life on Earth or on other Earth-like planets would probably yield similar (though certainly not identical) biological designs and would likely display similar evolutionary trajectories, at least on a coarse-grained scale. The fact of evolutionary convergence is often cited as evidence in support of this prediction (see Simon Conway-Morris's work for a rich account of evolutionary convergence). While I generally agree with Wallace's assessment, I found Wallace's case for evolutionary repeatability to be unsatisfying (for readers seeking a more persuasive and detailed argument for the repeatability and predictability of biological evolution see David Darling's book, Life Everywhere).

The author rightly dismisses so-called intelligent design (ID) as an explanation for life, biological complexity, and adaptation, claiming that the processes of divergence, duplication, and co-option occurring within a framework of Darwinian natural selection are sufficient to account for the evolution of biological complexity. While this may very well be the case (and I tend to agree), Wallace devotes little attention to how specific biological structures claimed by ID supporters to be "irreducibly complex" could have evolved via the strategies he mentions. Instead, he simply dismisses ID as "crass nonsense", without detailing precisely why it is so. In my opinion, it behooves the author to provide a much deeper critique of ID than he offers (for some excellent critiques of ID, see Young and Edis's Why Intelligent Design Fails, Perakh's Unintelligent Design, and Shanks' God, the Devil and Darwin: A Critique of Intelligent Design Theory).

Finally, Wallace describes himself as "a committed agnostic" with regard to God's existence and asserts that "committed atheism" is just as much of a faith position as is "committed theism". He cites Richard Dawkins as an example of a "convinced atheist". Dawkins may be "convinced", but he is not "committed", however. At least according to his most recent book, The God Delusion, Dawkins admits that he would give up his atheism if there were powerful evidence in support of theism. But Dawkins's atheism is hardly a dogmatic position- rather it is an intellectually honest and sensible one, which derives from following reason and evidence wherever they may lead. Wallace suggests that there is no evidence either for or against God's existence and that therefore the appropriate position is that of agnosticism. However, there is indeed evidence, both direct and background, which counts against the God hypothesis, thereby rendering the existence of God more improbable than not (for instance, one piece of evidence against the God hypothesis is that minds and intelligence are the derivative result of biological evolution- not primary- and that thought requires a physical substrate, e.g., a physical brain, in order to occur). How Wallace's "committed agnosticism" is not itself an example of "faith-based" dogmatism is beyond this reviewer's capacity to comprehend. Is there no evidence that in principle could sway him either way on the question of God's existence? Is Wallace a "committed agnostic" concerning the existence of fairies, ghosts, goblins, a host of pagan gods, and the "Flying Spaghetti Monster"? Does Wallace truly evaluate the probability that these extraordinary entities exist to be at 50 percent? If not, then what is the warrant for Wallace's "committed agnosticism" concerning the existence of God?

Wallace also blames Stalinist atrocities on the "faith of atheism". Overlooking Wallace's mistaken view that atheism (at least that which is the outcome of careful reasoning and an honest consideration of evidence) is "faith-based", Wallace's suggestion that Stalin's acts were done in the name of atheism is uncritical at best and misleading at worst. Arguably, the massacres of Stalin's reign were committed in the name of Socialist ideology, not atheism. His atheism (if indeed he was an atheist) appeared to be largely incidental, and not an essential motivation for his barbarous acts. At least Wallace's condemnation of atheism as the cause of Stalin's atrocities deserves a far more critical analysis than is offered in his book. And even if atheism was the primary motivation behind Stalin's acts (which is debatable), this does not thereby make theism or agnosticism any more intellectually defensible.

I was excited to read this book. I believe that we are "creatures of accident". The author failed at his goal to "demonstrate... that the rise of complex creatures can be explained with ease".

Evolution has a few simple concepts:
- Natural selection
- Survival of the fittest which allows inheritance of acquired characteristics. (Genes)
- Mutations, divergence of species (bad genes)

I am not a scientist, but I've been interested in creationism and evolution since 7th grade. I am now 43, and othen read literature on both subjects. This book failed because the author did not maintain his point of view. His thoughts turned into a litany of digressions; that made it difficult to get a concise understanding of evolution.

The first chapter titled "Hand Luggage Only" directed the reader to leave bias and preconceived notions behind and to read the book with an open mind. I'm not sure he made a point in the first chapter that set the course of the book or gave good reason to have an open mind. He continues the discussion with an explanation of life's lawn and life's ladder that became so confusing I considered whether it was worth reading more.

I found the last chapter on "Big Questions" most interesting. It showed that the author has his own baggage and failed to check it before attempting to explain a concept as intriguing and enlightening as evolution.

I do not agree with this author that atheism constitutes a system of faith. He seems angry at religion and seems to have a biased view of any opinion not his own. This is what constitutes a belief system; the notion that your understanding is correct and that everyone should/must agree with you. It is such dogmatic views that allow others to murder and slaughter their fellow human brothers and sister.

This book did not add to my understanding or appreciation of evolution, it revealed nothing.

Creatures of Accident: The Rise of the Animal Kingdom comes from a renowned professor of zoology in Ireland who delves into the weighty-sounding science of 'evolutionary developmental biology' - and while it may seem like this book is for college-level holdings, it will appeal equally well to general public library collections with its easy introduction to evolutionary theory. From analyses of the structure of life forms and the complex methods of evolution which are neither predictable nor straightforward to conflicts between creationism and evolutionary theory, this book provides both general reader and science readers with an easily-understood set of explanations, making it a top pick for both public and school holdings.

Diane C. Donovan
California Bookwatch

I read a lot of magazine and Internet articles about science and written in plain English for general readers. The science is usually vague and often inaccurate. Wallace Arthur manages to get across real science while avoiding jargon. For example, the old biology cliché "ontogeny recapitulates phylogeny" is rendered as "development repeats evolution". This is followed by a few paragraphs of explanation. And he covers a number of topics which are important for understanding evolution that aren't generally included id beginners' books.

The most important of these is gene duplication. The machinery that manages our DNA sometimes makes extra copies of one or more genes. The duplicate copies may then undergo mutation and take on new functions while the old ones remain unchanged. A LOT of evolution involves gene duplication. Arthur doesn't say how gene duplication happens - that requires biochemistry - but it is important to know that it happens.

Another topic is development, from egg to adult. This is critical for understanding the evolution of complexity. Some genes involved in development, such as the Hox genes that Arthur mentions, are important in evolution. Copying of Hox genes is a major factor in the increasing complexity of animals; some more advanced books have charts showing the parallel between Hox gene duplication and increasing complexity. The interaction of genes and proteins is another important topic. And there are other topics, too much for me to cover in a short review.

Arthur frequently pauses to relate a current topic to what came earlier in the book, or to suggest what is to come. People who read a lot of science books are used to doing this for themselves and might be annoyed by Arthur's doing it. But for true beginners, this will probably be helpful.

Creatures of Accident provides only a beginning look at the natural processes that give rise to complexity. A number of other books - all more advanced - go into the subject in more depth. I have reviewed several of these and I recommend them. Click above on "See all my reviews" for more. There is also a brief summary in my Listmania list "Natural Processes That Promote Evolution". To find it, click on my name, above, and scroll down my profile page to that title. I will mention here that Sean B. Carroll's The Making of the Fittest is an excellent next book for someone who has read Creatures of Accident; a reader who has had a decent HS biology course might want to start with that book. Carroll's Endless Forms Most Beautiful would be suitable for a college course, but is suitable for readers who are not bio students. Darwin in the Genome by Lynn Caporale looks at the evolution of those natural processes themselves. There are a number of very good books ranging from elementary to some suitable for graduate bio majors.

Creatures of Accident won't convince anybody that the ID claim is false; there's not enough detail for that. But it will give beginners a start to learning what evolution is really about. And that means the prospect of a lot of exciting reading ahead.

It wearies to hear once more that Barthes' "The Empire of Signs" is an example of hypocritical cultural imperialism. It's been said too many times, and further it's an inaccurate assessment of the actual text to begin with. I don't see the need to apologize for this book before recommending it - simply a need to introduce it in terms of what it actually pretends to accomplish as well as what it never imagined it could do. In a word, it's hardly as though Barthes was a Heidegger.

As the reviewer mentions, Barthes' shows his hand from the very beginning and does not attempt in the least to produce an objective or scholarly account of Japan. Who could imagine that Barthes, no stranger to genuine historical and anthropological analysis (though he wrote none of his own) would ever have imagined to himself that, here, he could have produced, spontaneously, a passable work of scholarship in a slim volume containing no documentation or critical notes whatsoever?

If Barthes is working within any genre at all here, it's not that of scholarship but rather of the essay as first established by Michel de Montaigne. Montaigne's writings on indigenous Brazilians were in no way expected to provide an objective picture, much less construction, of life amongst the cannibals. Montaigne rather finds in the accounts he has heard of the Caribbeans an occasion to reflect on the concerns of his own culture, in particular epistemology, history and the value of the values of civilization. Montaigne was well aware of what he was about, as was Barthes.

There is clearly no need to question the merit of thorough anthropological and historical research. However, those disciplines do not exhaust the possibilities of writing on other cultures. That we possess the methods necessary for the production of objective accounts of cultures, does not mean we no longer have a need for more subjective (or perhaps more non- or pre-objective) forms of investigation. Reason and the understanding cannot take from the imagination what is its proper due.

It strikes me that the kind of phenomenological reverie evinced in Barthes' encounter with Japan (his "love affair" with chopsticks, which is openly fetishistic and evokes a dual, maternal phallus which is not-one, which does not slice but rather unswaddles or snuggles a dumpling) is highly indebted not only to Montaigne's writings but also to Bachelard's later critiques of objective science. This sort of literary entry into a "paradis artificiel" does not come without a price. And certainly the cost of entry to, or residence in, this world of maternal jouissance was one which not only Baudelaire himself, but also numerous other writers, as antique as Augustine or as recent as Barthes himself, were perfectly willing to admit, and indeed make the problematical focus of entire books and careers.

Barthes' "The Empire of Signs" is not only a welcome complement to more conventional scholarly writing, but is in fact conditioned and called for by it - as Barthes says elsewhere, the only proper response to writing is more writing. If Barthes had not written this book, someone else would have had to write it instead.

Barthes tells us about Japan but I would recommend his exploration into another culture as a pattern to follow in your next travelling. Signs and meanings behind the surface.

Barthes talks of an emptiness of language necessary to reach enlightenment, but occasionally emptiness is just emptiness. Exhibit A: "Empire of Signs."

That might be a little harsh. It might be better to say that Empire of Signs is an example of art for art's sake. Barthes claims to be attempting to isolate a number of features, treat them as signs, and create a system called Japan. Barthes does indeed make good on his promise (or is it a threat?) and paints a very vivid, creative system he calls Japan. He admits that he has little knowledge of Japan to begin with, and so his observations are primarily reflections of his own imagination and not the country that actually is called Japan.

At this point red lights should be flashing and loud alarms should be going off in the reader's head: what Barthes admits to doing is exactly what he claims to abhor--Orientalism. Empire of Signs is a beautifully written, intelligent book (which is why I give it two stars instead of one), but by no means is it anything more than an essay on Japan According To Roland Barthes. Furthermore, although Barthes claims to have an indifferent opinion toward Japan, it become clear right away that he is in love with Japan when he starts his odes to pachinko and his love poems for the chopstick. The good news is that Barthes doesn't seem to be taking himself too seriously: the tone of the book is light, almost stream-of-consciousness in style. I just can't help but shudder to think that there are people out there who are trying to think of Japan and the Japanese in terms of the ephemeral realms of the sukiyaki pot.

For anyone interested in the Japanese perspective and analysis of the "signs" of Japan, I would recommend Jun'ichiro Tanizaki's "In Praise of Shadows" or books by Alex Kerr ... Edward Said's "Orientalism" is an interesting (if not a little dense and controversial) look at orientalism ... but if you really want to know a little more about this "Empire of Signs" that is Japan, pick up a travel guide. Better still, read some Japanese literature by Soseki, Tanizaki, Oe, or the contemporary writer Haruki Murakami.

Roland Barthes' "Empire of Signs" is like a very rich chocolate cake: pretty to look at, but very difficult to finish without becoming slightly nauseous.

The translation omits several of the illustrations in the original (perhaps they cost too much). As often in English translations from the French, the traps set by cognate words (faux amis) are not always avoided: respectable as "respectable" (p. 63; should be "worthy of respect"); vicieux as "vicious" (p. 68; "defective" would be better; on the same page "The Form is Empty" should be "Form is Empty"), s'inventer as "invent oneself" (p. 30; "find oneself"). Barthes offers a string of short zuihitsu-style essays, impressionistic flashes, confessing that his Japan is a fictive theoretical construct. The recurrent theme is that Japan teaches us to liberate the play of signifiers from the tyranny of the signified. The influence of Jacques Derrida's early essays, published shortly before this book, is apparent. Barthes's view of Japan is by no means as shallow or inaccurate as captious critics make out. The sure guiding hand of his friend Maurice Pinguet of Tokyo University, author of "La mort volontaire au Japon," preserves Barthes from major errors. Japan as a dance of signs referring to other signs, in a perpetual foreplay, a delicious lightness of being, may not be much in evidence in the horrible cityscapes of the present (thanks to the voracious construction and real estate industries), but that image does correspond to an aspect of the culture, going all the way back to The Tale of Genji.

The first two chapters of Roland Barthesf Empire of Signs read like a wickedly irreverent farce on the dangerous of Orientalism. However, by the following chapter it becomes apparent that Barthes made the unfortunate mistake of believing his own rhetoric. Although a highly inventive and therefore wildly misinforming interpretation of Japan, the book can serve as an informative document in a historiographical study on Western reception of the fictive Other, in this case signified by gJapan.h

An excellent, in-depth exploration of his mother's Irish past and of her coming to America as a young girl. He takes family stories and investigates them through his historian's training. Of course, many times he finds the facts don't support the story, as family stories change over time and blend different events or are shaped by changing perspectives. So then he explores the power of the story, regardless of its veracity, and then explores the facts to more fully understand the world that shaped the people from whom he is descended.

The book is a history lesson in how family's work and don't work. And it is a history lesson in the politics, morals, and folkore of rural Ireland and Chicago's South Side.

A rich, well-written book. You do not need to be Irish to enjoy it.

This is a fascinating memoir, alternating between memory and historical records. The remembrances of the author's mother of her early life in western Ireland and her later immigration to the United States are set against his searches for the actual historical documents and records of these events.
This is not a sentimental or saccharine biography, but an unflinching look at the lives of the respected-historian author's relatives and neighbors, both in Ireland and in America.
I read it over several days, and would have finished it sooner had I not found myself lost in thought so many times over what records might support-- or contradict--the stories of my own mother and grandmother. I am telling all my friends about this book.

In tracing the "representative" story of his mother's life, the author provides an insight into the motivation and experience of the Irish immigrant. There is also an interesting lesson on the difference between memory and history. Both of these items are of particular interest to the genealogist.

I did not find White's actual content all that engrossing. His historian's determination to separate fact from his mother's "storytelling" embellishments or lacunae follow the usual patterns of such explorations into the clash of contrasts. The Irish mom-meets-Jewish American dad that gave birth to White appealed to me, but reading the pages of life in Chicago in the 30s vs. his father's military stint made this book little different than a self-penned history of one's family by the designated genealogist in the clan. White does write considerably better than such amateurs, but what he writes about does not rise above the mundane or the all-too-familiar tales of peasant agitation, the old IRA, and the leaving of the village for the big city.

His eye occasionally gleans the telling detail, regardless. A petition for citizenship reveals that the husband does not know his wife's birthday, and his guess is off three years. His mother is asked as a 16-year-old at entrance to the country if she was a polygamist. The legend of St Rita, patron of the Chicago parish his family lived in tells in its own moral that God shapes you up only then to kill you off. Jack Benny and Father Coughlan were the radio shows one never missed on Sunday.

One detail shows an error on White's part: on pg. 23 he claims that his relatives had their baptismal names "Gaelicized" by the priest as Helen-Hellena and William-Guilielmo, but surely this is the customary Latinization found on many Catholic documents rather than a return to the Irish which would make Eileen and Liam?

This book reminds me of a few others that have recently delved into the Irish-meets-American immigrant encounter. Thomas Lynch's "Booking Passage," also looking at North Kerry, would complement White's book. His style in its spareness yet its eloquence reminds me of Henry Glassie, the folklorist who compiled "Irish Folktales" and chronicled a Fermanagh community in "Passing the Time at Ballymenone." Finally, books like David Monagan's "Jaywalking with the Irish" and Steve Fallon's "Home with Alice" similarly compare Irish American memories with extended Irish residences.

Too often the well written and engaging memoir is disengaged from the careful checking of facts and ordering relationships that is the mark of the historian. Richard White tells the story of his Mother's family in Ireland and Chicago, draws on the family stories that he was told, and then relates them to the historical facts and records. The result is a book that is better than it would have been had he relied on a single methodology, and the story is more engrossing than it would be otherwise. While other reviewers would have critisized this methodology, I find that his ability to show where and why discrepancies arise between memory and fact is extraordinarily illuminating.

Had there been no Shakespeare, John Ford's play "'Tis Pity She's a Whore" would never have been written--but Shakespeare's tremendous example not only provided part of context of this play, but also obscures it. "'Tis Pity" is not as good as Shakespeare's very best works (the great tragedies and romances). Ford struggles to match Shakespeare's second-best works (e.g., the great comedies such as "As You Like It").

But judging Ford in comparison with Shakespeare is unfair. Perhaps a few score of writers really match Shakespeare: Homer, Sappho, Ovid, Virgil, perhaps Dante. I wouldn't give Shakespeare a five-star rating and give, say, Pope, Keats, or Austen a four-star rating. Nor would I give Ford a three-star rating next to Shakespeare's five-star and Keats' and Austen's four-star ratings.

In the bell curve of literature, Shakespeare and Homer (in my opinion) occupy the vanishingly small right side of the curve. Very few writers match Ford's achievement in "'Tis Pity." The play is powerful, cleanly plotted, and brilliantly written. In particular, Ford does a great job in creating sympathy for all of his major characters, and in particular for the incestuous lovers at the heart of the play. The play suffers only by comparison with Shakespeare and perhaps a handful of other great dramatists.

More important, the New Mermaids edition is very useful. The introduction is thoughtful and thorough; the page layout is clear (especially important with drama); and the footnotes are generally useful. The editor, Wiggins, sometimes elucidates matters that are perfectly clear--but I would rather the editor take that approach than leave me in the dark.

In short, serious students of literature will want to read this play, and the New Mermaids edition provides a well-annotated text using modern English spelling.

Incest and dirty double hearted deeds that led all to this tragedy!
In cattle and horses siblings are breed that good genes double and bad ones die out.
In humans it engenders a madness of the superego
that leads to downfall and disgrace for all.
" Get thee to a nunnery " is the other side of "Tis Pity She's A Whore".
There is no wrong save "they" said it were so.
For men are but animals and their empty morals
all useless inventions?
We would better in these latter days trust
to DNA science than outmoded conventions.

This is a highly emotional and well-written work that explores a very taboo subject matter. The play revolves a case of forbidden love, in this case, Giovanni's incestuous love for his sister Annabella. It's pretty easy to figure out after the first few pages that the play will have a tragic ending, but there are several major surprises that happen along the way, and the final scene is unbelievably violent. I'd love the chance to stage a production of "Tis Pity" one of these days...from a directorial standpoint, the script is filled with many interesting possibilities.

This play is an excellent example of incest in the Renaissance. It's also fairly short and very readable. Bergetto is an interesting character and provides much needed comic relief in this play which is ultimately quite tragic. The title is misleading in many ways, but female sexuality is problematic throughout.

I chose to read this play because firstly, Anthony Burgess mentioned it in his book "English Literature" (1857) and secondly, because it was a short play. Or maybe even thirdly - the central theme [incest] it deals with is treated in an entirely different manner from other literary works. The nature of the incest is frank and horrifying. The intensity of the unlawful relationship is compromised by the coarsening of Giovanni's love for Annabella; their ethereal relationship gradually loses its innocence in the course of the play, culminating in Annabella's pregnancy and finally her death in Giovanni's hands.

While we certainly cannot put Ford in the ranks of Shakespeare, he deserves credit for a play whose themes of sexual jealousy, revenge, violence and incent intertwine in a most heartrending way.

To my mind, a book (whether fiction or non-fiction) deserves 1 star if it is just garbage, with no redeeming qualities at all. By that standard, this book is clearly not garbage. It is serious and scholarly, it is thought-provoking and it is well written by someone who clearly has expertise in the field. Beyond that however, I had some major problems both with her premise and her remedy (or, perhaps more accurately, her absence of a remedy).

Her central premise is that by phrasing the issue of childbirth in terms of choice, we do a disservice to poor women, because when they have children, we can then accuse them of having made a bad "choice"; whereas if we think of childbirth as a "right" as we did in the 60's, then, presumably, no negative stigma would attach to poor women having babies, since they were simply exercising "rights" rather than exercising "choice".

I disagree with this analysis on a number of levels. The problem is not "choice" vs. "rights", as if it were simply an issue of nomenclature; the problem is that we happen to live in a society and in a governmental system which is simply too democratic and too capitalist (read: too unsocialist) to ever be able to solve the problem she bemoans. And frankly, I'm not sure that I even agree that it's a "problem" in the first place.

My family and friends are not close to the socioeconomic class which Ms. Solinger is concerned with. Some of our friends have no children, some have 1, 2, 3, or 4 or more. And yet, whenever I hear them discussing whether or not to have another child, the issue ALWAYS arises: Can we afford to have another child? The couple in question may decide that they can afford to, but the point is the the discussion always comes up, and reasonably so. If we felt that we couldn't afford another child--or even one child--then we wouldn't have one. And what's the matter with that?

And yet, why should that issue be any different for poor people than for middle or upper class people? At one point near the end, the author says "it seems most Americans embrace a proposition that is profoundly problematic in a democratic society, that motherhood should be a class privilege." The problem with this lament--and indeed the problem with most of the book on this point--is that the supposed solution to this "problem" is nowhere to be found.

In the first part of the book, it seemed that Ms. Solinger was primarily unhappy with societal attitudes towards poor women who have children, which explains her dissatisfaction with the term "choice" over the concept of "rights". On that score, it is my view that even if the nomenclature changed, societal attitudes would not change one iota. However, by the end of the book, she seems to be saying that it is not fair, not right, not democratic, that economic stumbling blocks should get in the way of poor people's ability to have children. In other words, there was a shift from an argument about attitude towards an argument about economics. (See in particuar the final chapter about "motherhood as a class privilege" which is more or less the guts of the book.)

But where is she going with this argument? Though she never comes right out and says so in so many words, the implicit answer is obvious--she wants the government to subsidize the poor woman's "right" to bear children. But this is simply unworkable in America at least to the degree she would like. And where does it end? As I understand her preference, it is that every poor woman should be given a "livable" stipend by the government for each child, and then presumably we should multiply that stipend by the number of children, without limit. After all, it would be completely inconsistent with her argument to advocate some kind of arbitrary cutoff as to how many children a woman can have. After all, it childbirth is a "right", it goes without saying that you cannot impose an arbitrary cutoff as to how often that "right" can be exercised.

Last year, Ann Critenden wrote "The Price of Motherhood", which is subtitled "Why the most important job in the world is still the least valued." In that book, she presents a whole smorgasbord of proposals which would put more money in the pockets of women and more specifically, mothers. On the last page of the book, she acknowledges that if even a few of the proposals were enacted, the result would be, in her words, "a massive shift of income to women". Nearly all of her proposals would be paid for by the government in the form of enormous tax increases. Throughout much of the book, she waxes rhapsodically about Sweden and their "enlightened" system.

I mention this because I feel that Ms. Solinger's book falls into the exact same category. While not being quite as blunt as Ms. Crittenden, she is in essence saying the same thing--the government should pay for the costs of bearing and raising children of poor women and pay them alot more than it does now. The problem is that we do not live in a quasi-socialist society like Sweden with its crushing tax burdens. Nor is that bad thing. In any society as free and laissez-faire and democratic as America, it is a guarantee that people will fall on all ends of the spectrum. But if she really wants the government to step in to the massive degree which is implicit in her argument, then perhaps she simply doesn't like our form of government. And perhaps that is her real complaint-not whether we speak in terms of "choice" versus "rights."

I consider myself pretty aware when it comes to reprodcutive rights issues, but after reading "Begger & Chooser" I realized that there was a lot I didn't know.

I think Solinger does an amazing job of presenting a historical account of how the the politics of choice have moved from a rights based issue to a consumer issue. But, I was a bit frustrated and disappointed that she didn't offer any ideas of how these problem can and should be addressed.

How do the politics of choice shape issues and laws surrounding adoption, abortion and welfare in this country? Rickie Solinger's Beggars And Choosers explores the changing language and evolving law since Roe V. Wade, examining historical distinctions between ethnic and social classes and how new politics and issues influence concepts of choice. An eye-opening presentation of how one woman's choice is another's burden.

Rickie Solinger has written several books that deal with the reproductive rights of women. "Wake Up Little Susie" which dealt with unwed pregnancy and the cultural climate which promoted adoption prior to the legalization of abortion in the 1973 Supreme Court decision of Roe v. Wade was a particularly insightful book. She has also written about women who obtained illegal abortions prior to 1973 in her book "The Abortionist".

Those who have read her earlier books will recognize some of her sources and conclusions. Although, the research she did years ago is very valuable. Those familiar with Rickie's work realize that her greatest asset as a writer is her ability to review and analyze recent history and use it to demonstrate the truth of certain hypotheses she has developed about the treatment of women.

The central premise of "Beggar and Choosers" is that society has developed a dynamic about discussing the reproductive rights of women that focuses on the word "choice". In Rickie's view, this is flawed reasoning because women and particularly poor and minority women, don't really have the "choices" we believe that they do when it comes to preventing pregnancies, obtaining abortions, or raising children when they lack the resources to do so in a manner that is culturally acceptable in America today.

Instead of focusing on "choice", Rickie believes society should focus instead on "rights". The right to decide how many children one wants, the right to decide upon an abortion, etc. Such a "rights-based model" would work far more in the interests of women than this "choice" model which only benefits those who, in her estimation, can afford the respective choices.

The problem is that while Rickie is quick to talk about what rights ought to be, she doesn't explore or discuss what the cost or consequences of granting what these rights might be. If all women are going to have the right to have as many children as they--regardless of whether they can afford to support them--someone is going to have pay for it. Presumably, these are the taxpayers who will pay through higher costs for AFDC, federal child care programs, food stamps, medicaid etc.

Rickie deals with the discrimination, stigmatization, and abuse which unwed and single mothers have faced in our society. Its not a pretty picture and attempts by political figures to assert that all people on public assistance were "welfare queens" or cheats is some of the worst demagoguery that has occurred by politicians. Nevertheless, Rickie never stops to ask about the legitimate negative social consequences that arise from phenomenon of single parenthood: increased poverty; increased crime and delinquency; and higher school drop out rates among the children. Perhaps,in light of this, society does have some interest in trying to maintain the viability of a two-parent household.

Finally, Solinger presents poor and working class women as having no choices. In reality, I don't think this is exactly correct. Choices often do exist, its simply that they aren't "good choices". What must be factored into it as well, is that all individuals have some responsibility for their choices, or lack of good choices. If we deny this, we deny the very notion of freedom and liberty. Although, such reasoning should never become an excuse to ignore the plight of the poor and underprivileged in society.

The book is well-researched and Solinger presents us, again, with an interesting point and reaches conclusions about that point. The problem is that she doesn't present the whole picture and as a result there are flaws in her conclusions. It is stimulating and should serve as a focus for discussion and questions, rather than being treated as an end itself.

Mark

Impressed by her earlier work in "Wake Up Little Susie" I purchased Ms. Solinger's reccent work with anticipation of equally dynamic thought. In this work, she suggests herself and other feminists have failed to permanently secure public policy victories previously gained because of replacement of "rights" with choice in the name of political expidiency.

Within the context of "choice" freedom is merited out to those groups of women that meet the dominant society's preferences. Race and ecconomic status have been used by politicians and political pundits to divide women from eachother---and most importantly, from being recognized as full citizens under the law.

The book's interweaving of abortion access, adequate welfare provisions, and ethical adoption is admirable, but it stands to be overshaddowed by critical ommissions and simplifications.

Identifying herself as a pro-choice woman of the baby boom generation, Solinger then audaciously claims the "Back Alley Butcher" was a PR creation, since conditions without legal abortion were never as bad as fellow feminists had suggested. Charging the phrase was rooted in political expediency, she somehow overlooks that a nation allowing women to be slaughtered and maimed wholesale in lieu of competent medical care can be easily seen to wage war on the very right of women to be treated as human beings and citizens.

This text gives the impression Solinger did not actually bother to test her political theory (adopted for whatever reason) against the gargantuan presence of illegal-abortion related injury and fatality statistics. Even though she has repeatedly reminded the reader of her staunchly pro-choice credentials, the information in this portion of the book sounds like an anti-reproductive rights broad side and therefore actually undercuts her own argument.

It is profoundly difficult to heed Solinger's call for a radical feminist overhaul of public policy when misinformation from the very classist and racist forces she opposes are held as sound historical research. Prior to the legalization of abortion, poor women of color were more likely to die from illegal procedures than their white affluent sisters.

In conclusion, this book would be acceptable when used in conjunction with a medium-sized reading list, but should never be studied as a single text on reproductive public policy.