Windsor Books

One of my best friends is always asking me for new stories he can tell. He loves to use stories to entertain those at the right and left of him at dinner parties. Presumably, if he had actually attended the dinner party that opens up this book, he would never again need another story.

The Torso in the Town is the third Fethering mystery featuring Carole Seddon (mid-fifties divorced, retired Home Office bureaucrat) and her relatively new neighbor Jude (an alternative healer who has no obvious source of income of about the same age). Carole is sedate, introverted, and concerned about appearances. Jude is a full-tilt boogier, loves people, and cannot wait to get involved in whatever is going on. They share a love of solving local mysteries, especially murders, as amateurs.

One of the charms of this series comes in the clever plots that Simon Brett puts together to allow Carole and Jude to get at the facts to make their discoveries. In this case, Jude has been invited to have dinner with old acquaintances who have recently moved to Fedborough, just up the river Fether from Fethering where Carole and Jude live. Before the meal is done, her hosts' son races up to announce that he's found a body in the basement. In rummaging around behind a wall, the boy had located an old box . . . from which dropped a shriveled human torso. Talk about dropping your turkey on the floor in front of your guests on Thanksgiving!

Carole, meanwhile, is licking her wounds after her brief relationship with local pub keeper, Ted Crisp. She feels embarrassed and doesn't want to be seen. This makes Carole even more standoffish than usual. Jude's story of the torso helps Carole ooze out of her hurting shell. It turns out that Carole had recently been consulting an interior decorator who used to live in the home where the torso was found. Carole finds it easy to drop by and find out what she can learn.

From there, the complications are quite humorous as Carole and Jude become Fedborough's newest odd couple in the eyes of the locals. Initial connections lead to pubs, more drinks, a timely dinner invitation, and lots of gossip about who has done what to whom in the past. Carole and Jude also recruit unlikely assistants (including the boy who found the torso) before the book is over.

The ending will probably not surprise you, but it presents far nicer questions of "what if" than most mysteries develop. I liked the ending best of the three books so far in the series. The ironies are pretty entertaining for those who love irony.

This book has a special treat in it for those who have wanted to know what Jude's last name is: You get two clues via the post man.

As an example of a small-scale British mystery, a "cosy," this and the others in this new series are first rate. I thoroughly enjoyed them all and recommend all of them.

Simon Brett's novel, Torso In The Town tells of a historic village, newcomers, and a mummified torso which turns the party into a morgue. The mystery involves all in a complicated search for the killer.

In this third of the Fethering mysteries, Jude, is present when a mummified torso is found in the basement of a friends house. The arms and legs and clothing are missing. In an effort to help the 14 year old boy who found the body, Jude agrees to investigate the mystery. Carole has retreated into a shell after breaking off her relationship with Ted Crisp, and Jude sees the investigation as a way to open her up again. They find a town divided between the "chubs" or locals and the incomers who think they know all there is to know about the town. The body turns out to be the missing wife of a failed businessman of the area, and of course, he is the prime suspect. Soon after he turns up dead and the mystery deepens. The danger also increases for Jude and Carole, and they must find the murderer before he or she finds them.

This is a very good series. The retired civil servant and the new age healer make a very good team. The author has depicted the atmosphere of a small town invaded by tourists and retirees admirably and the mystery is very good.

Of the three Feathering mysteries so far, I liked "The Torso in the Town" best. And not because the mystery at hand was a more complex or intriguing one that had me breathlessly turning the pages until I reached the denouncement at the end of the book, but rather because of the three, this was the one in which we get to really appreciate the differing personalities of Carole Seldon and Jude, as well as to appreciate the friendship that has sprung up between them.

Carole Seldon is suffering from the after effects of the end of her love affair with pub owner, Ted Crisp, and she's depressed. And she's also begun to slide back to her former reclusive and reserved ways; enough so that her friend and neighbour, Jude, is quite concerned about her. So that when at a dinner party at Pelling House (in Fedborough, a neighbouring town to Feathering), the discovery of a mummified torso is made in the basement of the house, Jude naturally feels that the solving of this latest mystery is exactly what Carole needs in order to work her way out of her depression. Trying to figure the identity of the torso, when the body was secreted in the basement, and who the possible murderer could be is a sure fire way to get anyone out of the doldrums. And thanks to Jude's relationship with the current owners of Pelling House, and Carole's tenuous one with one of the previous owners, the pair are sure that they will make some headway in figuring out who killed whom and why...

"The Torso in the Town" proved to be a really enjoyable read. The joy to be gleaned from this novel, however, was not from the mystery at hand. On the whole, the mystery took quite a while to unfold, and Jude and Carole did spend a lot of time circling around the same few points over and over again. No, the joy to be gleaned form this novel came from the manner in which Simon Brett brought the character and flavour of these two small river towns, and all the colourful characters that inhabited them to life. I especially enjoyed Brett's social commentary on the changing times and the petty preoccupations and foibles of several characters. But what I enjoyed most (and what really pulled this novel together) was watching Jude's and Carole's friendship deepen and grow stronger, and watching Carole "thaw" out of her rigid mold.

For mystery buffs who enjoy samll town cozies, "The Torso in the Town" is a read that should not be missed.

But what else do we expect from the great Allingham? Margery Allingham's Albert Campion has been one of my very favourite sleuths for a long time. I can't believe that I missed reading this book when I was making my way through the entire bibliography! Ms. Allingham can tell a story, and this book will keep you on the edge of your seat throughout. In it we find Mr. Campion at a great disadvantage because he wakes up in hospital after a bump on the head, and he does not remember who he is, or why he has this sense of urgency that he needs to prevent a major disaster. He can't tell anyone his problem because he finds that everyone is counting on him to save the day, so he must muddle through and try to make sense of what is going on. We are faced with blinds and double-blinds, and the reader is kept guessing throughout just as much as poor Campion. What a wonderful story! I thoroughly enjoyed it, and would recommend this to anyone who has not experienced the genius of Ms. Allingham before.

This book has moved me a great deal twice, an eight-year-or-so gap between. It is as good as I remembered.

The basic impetus behind the story is, I fancy, as old as these "lost prince growing up as swineherd or kitchen boy until he discovers his identity when called upon to kill a dragon/save a princess/rule his country" tales. This sense of finding out that one is estranged from one's intrinsic and important identity is very powerful. No doubt we all have wished at one time to discover how important we are. Now we in Britain and America no longer believe that heredity or aristocratic birth itself confers value on an individual (although some vestige of the notion perhaps drives some adoptive children to try to find their "real" selves with their birth parents), we have to wait until a person develops their identity in adulthood, then find some way to estrange them from it. Amnesia will do. Our hero wakes up, knowing nothing about himself, but quickly finds out that, although he doesn't remember what it is, he's been entrusted to prevent a calamity of national proportions--and he's got two (or three?) days left in which to do it.

I compare this book to the Bourne Identity, which I think I like for almost exactly the same reasons, except that in the Bourne Identity, the identity of the amnesiac is the main issue, whereas in Allingham's Traitor's Purse, the question of identity is rapidly swallowed up in the mission that "Albert Campion," whoever he might be, was carrying out. Perhaps Allingham could have done a little more with the identity business. But the process of discovering Campion's mission is drawn out very efficiently, using about every technical device of delay you can think of. The mission itself, when you come right down to it, isn't perhaps quite as flashy or ingenious as the long build-up has prepared us to hope for--but, as is so often the case for mysteries, the solution is an efficient, not the primary, cause for the book; it merely gives the author excuse to realize characters, witty dialogue, a lush little village.

The long procession of reasons why Campion can't tell anyone about his amnesia, the succession of ways he extricates himself nimbly from sticky situations his ignorance generates, the frequent charitable assumptions friends make to explain his blank looks, the periodically perfect questions he puts to people who chattily tell him exactly what he needs to know to take the next step in his walk through mental darkness, the handy twin cracks over the head--all this strains credulity, at times, yes--feels a bit like a technical tour de force of plotting, not something that could have happened. But emotional verisimilitude makes up for all that. It is a very sweet love and morality story in which our hero, through his amnesia, learns to avoid the developing character flaws that might have eventually led him down the same path as our villain. It helped give a name to the feelings I had for my wife, when we were recently married, eight years ago, and it brings them back from where they are still stored--and aired, as pleasure that's slowly maturing with age--like the Masters' cache of wine deep in the hill. Those are the kinds of things it's lovely to discover are part of you already. Allingham is witty, although Campion is decidedly more grown up than in previous instalments. She uses all sorts of clever tricks, symbols, echoes--the unfinished Cockney couplet being one of the best. Also the use of the clock in the prison scene is a bit obvious but agonizingly effective. A smart author telling a good story that plucks at a heartstring most of us have, I think. Well worth the time to read, and to come back to.

A stranger wakes up in a hospital with no memory of his identity. He overhears a nurse talking to a policeman and discovers he is wanted for murder. He escapes down the hall, dresses himself in some fire protection gear and makes for the exit. In the confusion of the alarm he sets off, he manages to escape, steals a car, and heads off into the night...to a formal dinner.

And so begins "Traitor's Purse," another in the long series of Albert Campion adventure/mystery stories. Campion, handicapped by a memory that is only partially functional, must discover what horrible plot he had uncovered and how to stop it. All he remembers is that it involves the august Bridge Institute where some of England's most important war research is done. When the first person he meets with is promptly murdered and the second, a beautiful woman named Amanda, tells him she wants to break of their engagement, Campion finds himself facing insurmountable odds.

But face them he does. With a bit of fakery and the aid of the beautiful Amanda, Campion gradually makes headway. Leaving a trail of brutalized policemen and baffled menservants Campion manages to hide from his pursuit while uncovering the mystery. In doing so, he must face everything from muscle to madness, and live to talk about it.

I am not generally a fan of the 'lost memory' plot device. While "Traitor's Purse" is not my favorite Allingham tale, she manages make good use of Campion's disability and keeps the action and mystery churning. In addition, Amanda (who originally appeared in "The Fear Sign") provides a unique romantic twist that is unusual in a Campion story. Lugg does a fine job in his appearances as well. In truth, my only issue is that a Campion who doesn't remember who he is, isn't quite as much fun as one who does.

In truth, there's nothing to be grumpy about. "Traitor's Purse" is actually a finely crafted tale, with many twists and turns. Because Campion's character is somewhat suppressed, Allingham spends more time than usual developing the other denizens of the institute and it's surroundings, much to the reader's delight.

Quite typically of Allingham, the aptness of the book's title is apparent only in hindsight. Incidentally, Francis Matthews is very sound on narration; in addition to his unabridged recording of this story, try his narration of _Pearls Before Swine_.

_Traitor's Purse_ is set during WWII, and begins with Campion in hospital in a sleepy little English town, suffering temporary but severe amnesia from a head injury; he doesn't remember his own name. (On the other hand, he's had so many aliases that that *would* be a strain on a sick man.) Overhearing some chat in the hall outside his room, he realizes a policeman is on guard, gathers that he apparently has been involved in an assault on an officer, and promptly makes tracks.

The only person Campion half-recognizes when he makes contact with others is Amanda Fitton, which *really* hurts old Lugg, his long-time sidekick, who in turn is the only person who realizes that Campion's memory isn't working. When Amanda mentions early on that she's been "going to marry" Campion for 8 years (from context, readers can gather that they've kept in close touch since _The Fashion in Shrouds_, unlike the gap between the first two books featuring Amanda), he figures that while the head injury is recent, he's been a lunatic for quite some time - particularly when Amanda's next remark is to ask to be released from the engagement. (Lugg, of course, weighs in with a devastatingly practical observation when *he* hears about that.)

Amanda appears to be taking a more personal interest in the research director of the Bridge Institute than an aircraft designer needs to - but is she *really* interested in him romantically, or does she know more about Campion's assignment here than he can remember? (The director is charismatic, brilliant, and masterful, but he's pompous into the bargain, and very full of himself. Still, there's no accounting for taste.)

Campion in this story, like Daniel with the king of Babylon's dream in the Old Testament, not only has to reconstruct his interpretation of the problem, but figure out what the problem was in the first place, and at the same time cope with how much Amanda has come to mean to him. Since Campion concentrated on Intelligence work throughout the war, both in and out of Britain, far more may be at stake than usual.

Considering how elaborate Campion's emotional defenses are - this is a man who doesn't even use the same alias with respectable art experts as he does in his freelance adventuring life, let alone his *real* name - this situation may be the only way to shock him into resolving his relationship with Amanda one way or the other. (I admit frankly that the emotional entanglements within the story interested me rather more than the mystery Campion needs to unravel; the resolution of *that* aspect of the story seemed rather rushed, although the treatment can be justified in context.)

Margery Allingham's TRAITOR'S PURSE is a great mystery. Francis Matthews does the reading, and he is very good at maintaining the different English voices needed for the array of characters in this story. A good reader is vital to the enjoyment of an audiobook.

Albert Campion wakes up in a hospital, not remembering who he is, nor does his memory come back for most of the story. He's constantly on the run, which keeps it exciting, but he doesn't know exactly what he's running from. Campion doesn't want to reveal his ignorance of the facts, so he plays along with the people who know him, gathering bits of background information. Lucky for him, he remembers all in the end, and saves Great Britain from a terrible conspiracy to bring it down. I highly recommend this audiobook!

The "Mary Deare" was a 6000-ton freighter which emerged one night from severe Biscay gales into the English Channel, and into the newspaper headlines. It falls to John Sands, a salvage operator, to investigate what had happened to her. The damage sustained by the ship in the forward holds, the water making headway against the pumps, the shoring of the stoke-hold bulkhead, the fire in the radio shack, the disappearance of crew member Dellimare, the fire in number three hold and the subsequent abandonment of the ship by all except the captain. A disaster resulting in the death of twelve men during a mad scramble to get away from the "Mary Deare" that, in point of fact, was in no immediate danger of sinking...

I first read this book 30 years ago, when I was a kid; I've reread it a few times since and have loved it every time. Innes had a long career and I've enjoyed many of his other books, but none were quite this good.

Everything clicks -- from the opening chapter, when an apparently unmanned freighter, the Mary Deare, nearly runs down a sailboat; to the courtroom drama where the captain is tried for the loss of the Mary Deare; to the return to the wrecked ship, stranded and breaking up on a reef, where the mystery is solved. The story is exciting and very believable. If the action doesn't keep you turning the pages, the mystery will.

If you like classic adventure stories, read this book.

Classic! Like several other reviewers, I just stumbled on an ancient paperback copy of this in a used bookstore, and what a little treasure it is! hard to believe that in 1956 you could pick this book up for just 35 cents, the same book I just bought for 2.50 (though at a mere 4.7% compound interest I guess it's just as well I bought it now, and not in 1956). I'm so happy to see it's still available; keep your expectations low and this is a fast-moving, cleanly written little sailing adventure that stands the test of time; absolutely perfect vacation, travel, or relaxing read. If you're looking for more: I still have not read the highly touted classic `Riddle of the Sands' but I imagine it's very similar.

My wife picked up this book in a used bookstore in Seward,Alaska, while on a bike trip. We were looking for a cheep read and were shocked that we had bumbled onto a timeless classic. Half way through my wife, who is a professor and creative writer herself, got so exhited about the storry that she cut the book in half so that I could start on the beginning half of the book. The storry is outstanding (and I generally am not a fan of maritime themes), the writing rivals the great authors of the century, and the research is flawless. A must read. It is the second best book that I have ever read, behind "To Whome the Bell tolls"....this one is a lot less depressing.

I picked up this book as a 13 yr old at a country fair and have been completely heart broken since I lent it a friend who lost it about five years ago. To explain how good it is I have spend these last 5 years doing my damnedest to find a copy. This book should be on every school curriculum. Fascinating, exhilarating, saddening, frustrating - this book brings out every emotion humanly possible. The style of writing leaves you feeling the spirit of the Mary Deare and the shifting of her along the reefs of The Minkies. Fantastic! I cannot wait to get my hands on it again

A good Rex Stout. Lots of intrigue. Archie and Nero are up to good stuff here.

If you're interested in an audio edition, the unabridged recording narrated by Michael Pritchard is good. I look forward to the day A&E adapts it for the TV series.

The advertising firm Lippert, Buff, and Assa (LBA) lost the creativity that made them successful when Lippert died some years ago. Their best hope was a rising young star, Louis Dahlmann, who named a new perfume for Heery Products, Inc., one of their best clients: Pour Amour. He also came up "the biggest prize contest in history": each week for 20 weeks, a new 4-line verse appeared in newspapers and magazines, describing a woman in history known to have used cosmetics. He also wrote the verses to break the first tie (72 people) and now the 2nd and last tie (5 people, who were brought to New York to receive the verses from Dahlmann personally). Unfortunately, along with his creativity, Dahlmann had a wild streak; after handing out the verses, he brandished a paper from his wallet, saying it had the answers, and he mustn't accidentally give it to anyone. Within twelve hours, he was found shot dead in his apartment, the wallet and paper both gone.

The next morning, the members of the firm arrive at Wolfe's office, and they don't care who killed Dahlmann. They want Wolfe to extract them from the wreckage this will make of the contest, by finding out what happened to the paper before midnight, April 20th (the last contestant's deadline), so they can scrap the existing questions and come up with new ones.

But of course, as Inspector Cramer points out soon afterward, it'll be difficult to catch the thief without exposing the murderer.

The idea of woman-hating Wolfe getting involved with a perfume contest is in itself worth reading. (Some of the verses are given, and the later ones are nice puzzles.) The five contestants are well-drawn characters, all quite different, some likeable, some not. The members of the firm verge on hysterical, calling Wolfe for progress reports at all hours of the day and issuing conflicting orders. And of course, the mystery: Dahlmann, a womanizer, possibly a threat to some or all of the senior partners, and (last but not least) the verses (if that's what was on the paper). All leading up to the climactic confrontation in Wolfe's office with all the suspects - which doesn't come off quite as usual.

BEFORE MIDNIGHT

Rex Stout never wrote a dull book in his life, but to love his books you have to really love irascible old Nero Wolfe. Stout's corpus depends on personality to a damaging extent and, granted, while the chemistry between Wolfe and Archie Goodwin is well done (especially in this book, where Archie makes a sizable number of funny wisecracks), it wears thin, now, finally, after seventy years or whatever it is. I know that's sacrilegious to say, but I never got it and now it just seems lame. Why is he so disagreeable? Why is it so hard to pry him out of his apartment? The orchids, the fat, the acerbic wit-are these the decorations an aspiring author hung on his creation to differentiate him from a mass of other sleuths (a la Ariadne Oliver's vegetarian Finn detective, Sven Hjerson) or do they amount to a recognizable personality? For me, no; for millions of other Stout fans, yes indeed.

Heterosexual horndog Archie Goodwin's always hot after the prettiest woman on every case, while Nero Wolfe looks on his progress with a ill-concealed leer. He's into it, but he disguises his lust with a "Pfui!" exclamation. BEFORE MIDNIGHT, from 1955, is the 18th Nero Wolfe novel and, incidentally, the first Wolfe novel that Stout wrote as a follow-up, or maybe a corrective, to his famous "origin story, " THE BLACK MOUNTAIN, in which we found out much more than ever before about Nero Wolfe's Serbian or Montenegro past. The world of advertising into which Stout plunges us in BEFORE MIDNIGHT is almost ludicrously "contemporary," Madison Avenue satire that was so popular in the 1950s, it's almost as though Stout was afraid he had offended his audience with his previous, brooding, "serious" revenge novel and then wanted to make amends by making BEFORE MIDNIGHT more lightweight or at any rate jokey than usual. One million dollars in prizes is a pretty hefty sum, and what it must have been like in 1955 money I don't even like to think! No wonder there are five major suspects and a short list of a few more.

The fact that the victim had all the answers in his wallet, and only in his wallet, and everyone knew it, tweaks the plausibility meter but face it, if it wasn't for this far-fetched circumstance we wouldn't have much of a book now, would we? In fact we love these plots, especially the ones that real life wouldn't countenance. BEFORE MIDNIGHT is one of the best of the bunch. It reminds me of a story that might have been written by another favorite bygone author, Patricia McGerr.

The plot is ingenious, surrounding an advertising agent and its perfume contest. This scenario gives Stout ample opportunity to present greed and jealousy as a motive from suspect to suspect to suspect, and I did find myself wondering "whodunit" and how until the murderer's identity was finally revealed. There's also a wonderfully witty plot twist at the end that made me smile. And I also came away thinking that Robert Parker should curl up with a few Wolfe mysteries. I used to love his Spenser books, but now the banter between Spenser and Hawk and Spenser and Susan has become tired, old, and often childish. Rex Stout manages to take the familiar characters and remain both true to the interpersonal relationships (Wolfe/Archie, Archie/Stebbins, Wolfe/Cramer, etc.) and consistently entertaining and readable. Stout is a master of this genre and perhaps it's unreasonable to expect another author to reach such heights.

It would be great to see this one brought to life by A&E (if they had not abandoned one of the classiest TV productions of the last five years). The greatness that was old New York was so deftly portrayed by Rex Stout and, I guess, he could be forgiven for romanticizing it a wee bit.

Live in the ethereal world of orchids, brownstones, fine food and - ahem - no women in his literature.

I love all the books in this set. They are wonderful. I do believe in the "borrowers". I bought the whole set for my 11 year old granddaughter. Hopes she loves them as much as I do.

Long before there were Littles or anyone shrunk their children, Mary Norton had written this warm and wonderful series about a race of tiny people who live hidden in quiet country houses and "borrow" their livings from the human inhabitants. Their lives depend on remaining unseen and unsuspected.

But little Arietty Clock, who lives with her parents (Pod and Homily) is a naturally curious girl and lonely besides. When, on her very first trip out to Borrow ("The Borrowers," 1952), she is "seen" by a little human boy, she becomes friends with him and sets off a chain of events that will threaten her family's very existence -- and make staying in their home beneath the kitchen floorboards impossible.

In this third tale (1959), Pod, Homily and Arietty are forced once more to move when their new home, the gamekeeper's cottage, is closed. They begin the search for Little Fordham, a mythical miniature village where they can live in safety under the noses of human tourists. Their journey takes them first down a drainhole with tidal waves of bathwater; then downstream in a rusted-out kettle and in Spiller's "boat" (a knifebox with a butter-knife paddle). It is a dangerous journey for such tiny people, and the crisis comes when their boat sinks and a human discovers them stranded on a heap of flotsam in the middle of the river. Once more, they must adapt and overcome if they are to survive long enough to begin a new life in Little Fordham.

With her "Borrowers" series, Mary Norton accomplished what few writers are able to do: she created a group of characters that become real through her words; and a fantasy world that is so realistic that readers young and old will be lost in it, and will look at their own world differently forever after. Though each stands alone, the first four tales read as fluidly as if they are all parts of one larger book -- indeed, they have been published as a single volume in the past -- and can be read consecutively without excessive and tiresome rehashing of the previous plots.

The books are billed by booksellers as written for 8-10 year olds, but they are ideal for reading aloud to younger children; and adults too will enjoy the sheer fun they contain. I first read them when I was ten -- long before "Avenged" was written and answered my longstanding questions about the Borrowers' fate. All five books remain in my reading cycle, to be reread every few years in their entirety. By stages funny, thrilling, and poignant, these lovely books will capture your imagination and keep you turning pages all the way to the end.

In this book, "The borrowers afloat" the Clocks once again venture out of a their brand new (rundown) house. This is their 3rd house in the 3rd book. This book tells how they manage "afloat" to get away from the empty cotttage, and "SPECIAL" relatives. Will they get to their dream house?

One time I saw a movie it was called The Borrowers. I thought it might be a little bit like the book. I thought it would be about borrowers who were on the river in a teapot. The cover gave a large hint. Borrowers are tiny people only about six inches high. Borrowers can not live without people. A family of three borrowers are living inside of a cotige wall,then the owners suddenly move out. There is one place called Little Fordham where borrowers live so they set out to find it. There were some parts that were slow but it got better toward the end. If you like books with little people mabye you want try it?

In this, the third book in the Borrowers series (after The Borrowers, and The Borrowers Afield), the Clocks (Pod, Homily and Arrietty) find that they must leave the safety of their new house and venture forth once again into the great big world. Setting their sights on Little Fordham, a miniature model town, the Clocks follow young Spiller out. But the world is a dangerous place for someone as small as a Borrower, and their voyage is filled with excitement.

Once again, Marty Norton has produced a story that is a lot of fun. Containing both plenty of adventure with a heartwarming story. My children and I loved this story, and you and yours will too.

Havent seen the movie for awhile, but have a question about it? Was the movie taken place in Africa and if so, where was the river Kwai? Is it in Kenya? Thanks for the help.

Less is more--usually. So I admit with some shame that this is one of the rare occasions where I actually enjoyed a film more than the book that was its inspiration.

Ironically, the film's screenplay, although credited to the book's author, Pierre Boulle, was written by two uncredited blacklisted writers, Michael Wilson and Carl Foreman. This was not corrected until decades later, so when the screenplay won an Oscar, Boulle (who did not speak, let alone write, English) accepted the award.

The film took liberties with the plot. It was released in 1957, which meant that not only could writers still be tarred by a McCarthy-era brush, but it was also a time which demanded a big-name American star in a lead role as a box-office draw. So a British commando character became an American played by William Holden. The great actor Alex Guinness played the role of the gung-ho British colonel with his usual distinction. In the film the individuals, even the volatile and incompetent Japanese colonel, all come across as better than they might have been.

But the same people in Pierre Boulle's original account were not so quite so stylishly spirited. Even while Boulle praises a character on the one hand, he cuts him down to size with the other. Boulle's book reads "true," yes, and touches on interesting moral dilemmas. As a former prisoner of war in South-East Asia himself, Boulle has only the lowest of opinions for his brutal captors, no doubt justified, but there is no tempering of his characters. And even while he recognizes admirable British qualities, he has equal quantities of disdain for aspects of their ethos. It is too bad he has no French characters in the book to see if he would be as merciless with his own countrymen.

Despite his clear bias, Boulle's writing has a grand sense of socratic irony to it. At times, even through the filter of our contemporary mores, we may still marvel at his brilliant and scathing depiction of human nature.

Unfortunately, the story's structure is plodding and ponderous. Whether or not this is due to the English translation, it can be a somewhat convoluted "read." And while Boulle is clever, his characters lean to the archetypal and they are somewhat two-dimensional.

Yet, sadly, his story is probably more like life really is than the rather sugarcoated but splendid film that was made of it.

I think this is one of the best books you can ever read. It is decriptive and exciting. A sure prize if you can get one. The story being set in Thailand (formerly Siam) is wonderful because it sets the scene for many of the dramatic events. It is my absolute favorite book, and anyone who gets the chance should read it.

Boulle's Bridge Over the River Kwai is a passion play and insight into the moralities of senior British officers and a Japanese commandant using a remote Japanese P.O.W. camp in Siam during WWII as a backdrop.

Camp commandant, Colonel Saito, a drunken, loathsome miscreant of unfulfilled expectations is fond of using starvation and torture to keep prisoners in line. He has been ordered to build a bridge spanning the Kwai river which will link up a Burma-Siam railway in 6 months time. Colonel Nicholson, the ranking British P.O.W. is a "by the book" throw back to British colonial times. He is highly motivated to bolster the morality of his men by building a bridge which will be a testimony to British ingenuity. Under horrendous conditions, Nicholson's men put their backs into their work much to the dismay of the more moderate Major Clipton, the camp medical officer.

The prisoners and Japanese are both unaware of a commando mission lead by British Force 316 which will attempt to destroy the bridge once it is completed along with the train it will be supporting. Led by Major Shears we see the mental interplay between the commando team bent on destroying the bridge versus the British officers and Saito who are proud of it construction.

Although the book differs slightly from the superb movie, Boulle in concise, succinct writing style, somewhat reminiscent of Hemingway pens a very good psychological study of men in times of war.

We live in an age when "art" has become horrifically bloated. Every major movie is three hours long, even the insipid Summer blockbusters. Authors from Don DeLillo to Tom Clancy crank out enormous doorstop-like novels of 700 to 1,000 pages. The artist Cristo doesn't just paint pictures, he wraps entire islands in pink cellophane. It is as if artists had lost confidence in their capacity to say anything meaningful and so they opt instead to try to bury us in pure volume. Heck, Bill Clinton's State of the Union message this year--a message which until modern times President's were content to simply write out and send up to the Hill--resembled a Fidel Castro harangue, lasting over an hour and a half. Apparently, if you're not sure about the quality, make up for it with quantity.

The results have been predictably uneven--on the one hand, the perfectly adequate 1934 comedy Death Takes a Holiday, which ran under 80 minutes, was recently turned into the interminable vanity project, Meet Joe Black. But on the other hand, Tom Wolfe's terrific A Man in Full (see Orrin's review) actually had one of the best set pieces he's ever written, Ambush at Fort Bragg (see Orrin's review), excised from the final novel. It seem that, just as we would expect, the sheer size of these projects bears no relation to the quality of the finished product. It is still the case that great writers and directors can produce outstanding longer works, but mediocre artists can not salvage their's, no matter how they inflate them.

All of which brings us to Bridge on the River Kwai. I'm sure that everyone is familiar with the story from David Lean's 1957 masterpiece, starring Alec Guiness, William Holden, Jack Hawkins and Sessue Hayakawa. Lean was the undisputed master of the movie epic--with films like River Kwai, Doctor Zhivago, Passage to India and Lawrence of Arabia to his credit--and his film version of Boulle's novel is a mammoth, 2 1/2 hour, panorama. It is unquestionably one of the greatest movies ever made.

Boulle's original, while every bit as great, is a spare, economical novel, which compacts vexing moral questions and ethical confrontations into a small but powerful package. It stands as sort of a demonstration that artists who actually have something to say need not resort to gigantism. The only major element that differs from the movie is that Lean needed an American actor for promotional purposes, so the whole scenario with William Holden escaping the camp and then returning with the demolition crew was added. All of the moral quandaries that make the story so memorable and timeless remain, despite the brevity of the book.

In fact, some of the themes emerge more forcefully. Pierre Boulle was himself captured, imprisoned, set to forced labor and then escaped from such a camp in Malaysia and one of the strongest undercurrents in the book is the author's obvious contempt for the Japanese. This is in many ways one of the most racist (I mean that in a non pejorative sense, if such a thing is possible any longer) stories ever told. The underlying assumption is that the two colonial powers find these places in a state of primitive savagery. The Japanese merely seek to exploit them for their own purposes and do so in an accordingly slipshod way. The British, meanwhile, attempt to bring the highest standards of civilization to bear and try to reengineer the wilderness so that it will stand as an eternal monument to British values. Boulle uses the construction of the bridge to demonstrate that the Japanese are brutal incompetents and that the British, while they are the world's master builders (both of engineering marvels and of civilizations), are so warped by their own rigid codes of duty and honor that they are blinded to ultimate issues of the propriety of their actions.

I must have read this book or seen the movie dozens of times since I was a kid. One of the really remarkable things about the story is how different facets stand out each time, or is it just that at different ages or in different social circumstances certain themes seem more important than at others. When you're a callow youth, the whole thing is just a bang up military adventure. In the late 60's and early 70's the point of the story seemed to many to be simply anti-war--"Madness! Madness!" as Clipton says. Today, I read it and see a Frenchman dissing the Japanese and the British. That Boulle achieves this kaleidoscopic effect with such brevity is a remarkable accomplishment and should serve as a reminder to all that increased size is no substitute for substantial ideas.

GRADE: A+

I read this book in 1971 when I was 19 years old and
I still remember it fondly. You come to really
care about the characters. I think there's at least
one character in this book tht we all can identify
with

Growing up in So Cal during the late sixties early seventies, I have never seen another book capture the period so perfectly as this one does. If you missed that period this book shows you what it was like. If you came of age at that time, this book makes you feel like you are living it again. All the divergent groups of people each taking different paths are realistically portrayed. They all come together to make for an unforgetable ending.

Like the Southern boy who falls for a black woman. Like the prom queen who's involved with a Nisei boy and her parents are trying to put up a pose of "enlightenment", but still...Like the Nordic jock who's such a beach hunk that it takes conscious effort on his part to be a person. Like the school nerd who hides gay tendencies (kind of betraying two of your own prejudices in one shot, aren't you, Jackie?). I think of my own membership in this "generation" and I squirm over how pretentious so many of us were back then. The "political correctness" crowd of today are nothing but those of us who haven't come to terms with the way human nature really is. This book may be a sort of "alternative American Graffitti", but a TV spinoff could never be called "Happy Days". I'm not surprised that it's out of print--to say that the concept is dated nowadays is to put it mildly!

It's the swinging sixties and the California Generation is out in full force! I first found this book at an used book store in the summer of '80. I was 17 years old and devoured this book! I found it in paperback soon after and read it every couple of years. I was only a little kid in the 60s but reading this book makes me feel like I was right there with Clay, Marshall, Stryker, York, Odessa, R.G., Dorot and all the rest. There are two different endings - one ended in 1968 and the updated version is from 1980, I believe. It would be great if Briskin brings the California Generation back for the millennium!

It's the swinging sixties and the California Generation is out in full force! I first found this book at an used book store in the summer of '80. I was 17 years old and devoured this book! I found it in paperback soon after and read it every couple of years. I was only a little kid in the 60s but reading this book makes me feel like I was right there with Clay, Marshall, Stryker, York, Odessa, R.G., Dorot and all the rest. There are two different endings - one ended in 1968 and the updated version is from 1980, I believe. It would be great if Briskin brings the California Generation back for the millennium!

Ellis Peters, the pseudonym for Edith Pargeter, has carved a special niche with the Brother Cadfael mysteries. She is able to bring to life twelfth-century England, mixing monastic daily life with the very real threat of murder and mayhem, which there seems to be a lot of in the town of Shrewsbury. "Dead Man's Ransom" is the ninth chronicle of Cadfael's sojourns into sleuthing and it offers readers a unique mystery.

With border clashes an ongoing problem between the English and Welsh, a young Welsh prisoner is brought to Shrewsbury. Hugh Beringar is now in charge of the town since his sheriff has been captured by the Welsh. He hopes to exchange his prisoner for his sheriff, which he manages to do, but not before complications arise. For the sheriff's daughter falls in love with the prisoner, and they know that her father's return will tear them apart. Shortly after the sheriff returns, he is found murdered in the abbey where he had been recovering from his wounds. The likeliest suspect is the young prisoner who had everything to gain if the sheriff was out of his way, and now he must try to clear his name on foreign soil.

"Dead Man's Ransom" is a quick-paced read and an interesting mystery that may keep readers guessing. At times Peters' prose is weighed down with too much effort at capturing twelfth-century English turns of phrases, but Brother Cadfael is a unique detective and one that keeps readers interested.

In the tenth installment of the ever-so-popular Brother Cadfael series, author Ellis Peters proves a winner once again with "Dead Man's Ransom."

Set in the year 1141, civil war runs amok in Britain between King Stephen and the Empress Maud, and it appears that the end of the twelve year old struggle is in sight. The war has taken its toll in many areas, as civil wars do, and the people are quite weary of it all. Maud's forces, however, now have captured the king himself. The sheriff of Shropshire, too, has been taken captive. This means, in those days, that in all likelihood an exchange of prisoners will take place.

Alas, one of the captives is now dead and it is our Brother Cadfael who senses that, indeed, it is murder, and, just as naturally as Peters would have it, it is he who is given the responsibility to solve the case and to try to bring about the release of the king.

Brother Cadfael is the former crusader now a Benedictine monk, who specializes in herbal medicines, solving murders, and compassion. Peters (Edith Pargeter) has developed her Cadfael through this series of medieval whodunits into a man of the cloth easily admired and respected. He is a man of firm, and devout, principles; a man who seems to carry the weight of the shire on his own Welch-born shoulders!

Peters has made grand the area of Shropshire, and especially the town of Shrewsbury there on the Welch borders. She has also created an exciting family of literary characters to complement Cadfael: Hugh Beringar (deputy sheriff of the shire and Cadfael's closest friend) and his wife Aline, Abbot Radulfus (the venerable patriarch of the abbey, and other members of the abbey. It is not essential that this series be read from the start (with "A Morbid Taste for Bones"), as this book could easily be read first and it would still hold up as a book on its own; however, readers generally will want to read them in order, as the presentation of character, of historical events, of character-interaction does show development in the series' genealogy. Peters died a few years ago and apparently there are no more Cadfael episodes aside from the twenty or so published, but each of the books extant bring the reader a treasure of reading adventures.

Billyjhobbs@tyler.net

I am an avid fan of the Cadfael series and I enjoyed this book very much. The ending is terrific, though some people may not agree with me. Am deducting one star because of the character of Millicent Prescote. She is extremely disloyal and changeable. I truly wondered at the end if her marriage will be a happy one.

During the course of the ongoing civil war between the followers of King Stephen of England and his rival to the throne, Empress Maud, Sheriff Gilbert Prescote of Shrewsbury, is wounded and taken prisoner by the Welsh. An exchange of prisoners is agreed upon, with Elis, a young member of the Welsh nobility, at present in the hands of Deputy Sheriff Hugh Beringar, to be exchanged for Prescote. The wounded Sheriff is returned to his home in a litter and placed in the infirmary at the Abbey of St.Peter and St.Paul, in the care of Brother Cadfael. Less than a day later, Prescote is smothered in his sleep, leaving the finger of suspicion pointing at Elis, who was seen entering the sick man's room. Elis had fallen madly in love with Melicent, daughter of Sheriff Prescote and intended to ask for permission to marry her, but is shattered when she declares him a murderer and wants nothing more to do with him. Among the Welsh soldiers who returned the Sheriff to Shrewsbury is Eliud, cousin and foster brother to Elis, and who is ordered by Owain Gwynned, a prince of Wales, to remain in Shrewsbury until the murderer is found and brought to justice. Marauding bands of outlaws, taking full advantage of the state of civil unrest which exists because of the war, burn and plunder neighbouring farms and threaten even a local convent, so Beringar joins forces with their previous enemy, the Welsh, to restore order to the area. The rather convoluted love stories between the two Welsh noblemen and their chosen ladies becomes so threatened by war, murder and danger from the law that happy endings seem impossible and would have been, without the clever assistance of Cadfael who finds the murderer from the most minute clues and once again ensures a happy ending.

Ellis Peters is in a class by herself. Before her death at the age of 82 in 1995, she wrote a series of 20 mysteries set in England and Wales during the 12th Century. (She also wrote many other books under her real name, Edith Pargeter.) In the Cadfael mysteries, her "detective" is a former Crusader who has decided to spend his last years as a monk in a monastery in Shrewsbury. I have found the Brother Cadfael in the books to be far more interesting than the Brother Cadfael of the television series. Many of the books in the Cadfael series are as much (or more) historical romances as they are mysteries. Don't start any book in this series unless you enjoy a strong dose of romance and medieval English history mixed with mystery. The Cadfael series (like most good series) is more enjoyable if the books are read in sequence. Dead Man's Ransom is the ninth book in the series.

In Dead Man's Ransom, Brother Cadfael is called upon to solve the murder of the Sheriff of Shropshire, Gilbert Prescote. Suspicion falls on a Welsh captive and on others who have a grudge against the stern sheriff. Cadfael's investigation is hampered by Welsh raids along the border and by continued strife within England.

In his book The Joys of Yiddish, Leo Rosten sets out the distinction betwen a schlemiel (a fool) and a schlimazel (one prone to misfortune)thusly: A schlemiel is the waiter that trips while carrying a large bowl of soup to a table. The schlimazel is the person that ends up with the soup on his lap. Felx Morsom, the ptoagonist of Felix in the Underworld is the quintessential English schlimazel. Though not a fool, Felix plays an altogether passive role as misfortune falls upon him. The strength of Mortimer's book lies in his ability to portrary Felix in a charming, almost winsome manner while at the same time moving the story ahead in a plesant fashion. Mortimer has a keen eye for detail. The book is easy to read, amusing, and charming.

John Mortimer is the writer of many charming and wonderful books, although he is no doubt best known for his stories of Horace Rumpole, the irascible British barrister. In Felix in the Underworld, Mortimer showcases his comic and satirical talents most admirably.

Mortimer reminds me a little of bestselling Japanese novelist, Haruki Murakami, in that his characters in this book are quite ordinary people who live quite ordinary lives but have the absurdly bad fortune of simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The protagonist of Felix in the Underworld, Felix Morsom, is a moderately successful, quiet, sensitive novelist at Llama Books who manages to become involved, much against his will, with a man named Gavin Piercey.

Soon after meeting Piercey, Felix notices the man everywhere in his life: at book signings, during radio talk shows and, most especially, at one fateful meeting where Piercey introduces Felix to a woman named Miriam. This meeting will have serious, but hilarious, repercussions on Felix's life.

From the moment Felix meets Miriam, his life becomes one of turmoil and wild, unbelievable events. He receives a letter from an agency calling itself PROD; he is accused of a brutal murder; he becomes involved with London's homeless population.

Mortimer's handling of the plot is superb, his writing as smooth as silk and the characters, although slightly cliched, are still polished and hilarious. One of the funniest is the lawyer, Septimus Roache, the man Felix turns to in desperation when he attempts to prove his innocence in the murder. Roache is an obtuse and self-satisfied man who has little to no interest in his clients and really doesn't listen to a word Felix is telling him.

Mortimer, who himself was a successful barrister before becoming a writer, knows how to create a rollicking good murder mystery and this is part of why Felix in the Underworld works as well as it does. Another large part is Felix, himself, an engaging character we can't help but like; a man who maintains his dignity and poise even in the face of adversity of the highest, and most unexpected, order.

Mortimer calls himself a "Champagne socialist," and is a champion of the poor and the downtrodden. In this book he manages to take us on a trip through contemporary British society, especially homeless society. The book is fun, though, above all, and never sounds like polemic. We can credit Mortimer's superb writing skills for that.

The snobbish character of Simon Tubal-Smith, Felix's boss at Llama Books is contrasted wonderfully with Esmond, a homeless man who was, at one time, a manager in a supermarket. Esmond left his job and home for a life in the streets when tragedy struck. Felix, himself, spends some time as a member of London's homeless population and is reminiscent of George Orwell's Down and Out in Paris and London.

The dialogue is pure Mortimer and always fun. When Felix is temporarily residing in jail, his cellmate is a man named Dumbarton who allegedly beat another man to death. "You killed him?" Felix asks. "Thoroughly," Dumbarton replies, quite satisfied with what he did.

Felix is both self-effacing and hilarious as he attempts to cope with unhelpful lawyers who do just as much to convict as help him, as he tries to sort out the mystery behind PROD, as well as develop his budding relationship with Brenda Bodkin, his publisher's publicity agent.

Although this book is a little formulaic at times, the formula works and works well. Maybe that is because Mortimer is a master who never lets us down. Felix in the Underworld is a first-rate murder mystery, a comedy of errors and a satire of the British class system. It is always delightful and filled with surprises up until the very last page.

Written in 1996, this "non-Rumpole novel" by John Mortimer stars not a barrister but a writer. Felix Morsom, who is probably in his late thirties but who seems decades older, is a quiet widower once nominated for the Booker Prize. His latest book is not selling, however, perhaps because his books, like Felix, are so sedate, mannered, and precise. His attractive publicist tells him that he needs more drama in his life and work, but though he tries to persuade her to engage in a wild dalliance with him, she demurs, telling him that he needs to get out more.

Before going to his next book-signing, Felix listens to a tape sent to his house, detailing the brutal prison rape of man jailed for non-support of a child. When Felix later meets this same man and a woman at his book-signing, they claim that Felix is the real father of her ten-year-old son, and threaten him with jail for non-support if he does not pay up. When the man is murdered, Felix is the prime suspect, having left an ambiguous message on the man's answering machine and his fingerprints all over the murder scene.

Though the plot here is not unique--famous man accused of fathering a love-child by couple bent on blackmail--Mortimer endows the novel with unique descriptions and odd characters (from the homeless people with whom Felix eventually beds down under Blackfriars Bridge to his barrister, Septimus Roach). Proper Felix finds his life filled to the brim with unexpected activity as fate takes him by the scruff of the neck and forces him to become engaged in real life, much of it seamy, instead of simply observing the world at a distance. The characters in general are more a function of plot than fully drawn individuals, though Felix does grow and change as his situation becomes more dire.

Filled with the dry humor and word play which makes Mortimer's Rumpole series so popular, this novel is a more leisurely foray into a murder investigation than the Rumpole mysteries, and it does allow for some limited character development and some stunning ironies. Felix is not a barrister, and his inexperience with the world forces him to follow dead ends and to make tactical mistakes as he tries to find the supposed victim and stay out of jail. An amusing take on the writing life which also includes some classic court scenes between Felix and his counsel, it is easy to see that author/lawyer Mortimer had great fun writing this one. n Mary Whipple

A hapless middle-aged midlist author gets embroiled in the British legal system when he is accused of fathering a child and not paying support. You may need a certain amount of anglophilia and interest in the literary scene to fully appreciate it. The only fault I could find was that it's too short. I hate finishing books in one night before I fall asleep.

There are many things to like about this book, most of which are described well by the other reviewers. What really struck me about this book (perhaps because I listened to the unabridged tape) was how so much of the plot turned on what happens when a writer is less than precise with language. Mortimer does a masterful job of creating Felix, a writer who doesn't even realize that his misstatements are misstatements or the trouble those statements cause.

Overall, it took me a while to warm up to the book but by the end I was rooting hard for the truth to emerge. The actual ending was a little corny but ok. It's a book filled with a fun assortment of characters. More than a few humorous jabs are made at the modern publishing world and modern society in general. Not a laugh out loud book but one that made me chuckle to myself.

A New York Times notable mystery in 1997 - for those who are fond of books with credentials.

This is a fabulous book and a treasure for garden lovers. It's nice for even amateur gardeners to have a selection of books on Sissinghurst, Giverny, and now Highgrove. I especially loved this book because of the unusual features including the stumpery, which is, quite simply, fantastic. The pictures are beautiful, and I even enjoy the winter scenes.(snow+England=Dickens for me!). The beautiful statues and sculptures are unique--and range from classical to modern;they all seem well-placed in this garden. I liked the way the Prince of Wales encouraged young stonemasons to give their castoffs to add to a wall that looks to be straight out of Alice in Wonderland.
It's true that not of all of us can live like a Prince, but it apparent that his Duchy employs a number of people--and it seems he has been more than generous in opening his garden to visitors and fundraisers. If I knew how beautiful and inspiring this book was--or even that there was such a book--I would have bought it earlier (big regret). I anticipate many years of delightful viewing.

I first read about Highgrove in a magazine article ( I think it was Town & Country) several years ago. I clipped the article and looked at the beautiful pictures again and again. When I saw the book, I knew I had to have it. When it arrived last week, I was not disappointed. The pictures of the gardens are beautiful, but the story of the garden's development is even more interesting. The prose is informative and easy to read. I also have a new respect for Prince Charles as a kindred gardener. While my gardens will never match the grand scale of Highgrove (my husband and I do all of the garden work on our five acres while working full time jobs), I have found lots of inspirational ideas that I plan to incorporate in my flower gardens. This book has already given me many hours of enjoyment and I know that I will turn to it whenever I need a gardening fix!

To see a garden of this scale and design run completely organically is one the best arguments for the banishment of chemical garden practices around.
This book is a great addition to any garden library, and if you do not already garden organically this may be the book that will convert you. That is assuming you have not read A Silent Spring.
Also makes a handsome gift, dispite all the photos of Prince Charles looking very County.

If The Prince's 1993 book "Highgrove: An Experiment in Organic Gardening and Farming" was a manifesto disguised as a picture book, this title is, comfortingly, just what it appears to be: a guided tour of The Prince of Wales' very impressive gardens at his country seat, Highgrove.

Of course, there is still a strong bit of advocacy for an organic approach to gardening. But here, it doesn't edge into discussions of European agricultural policy or the historic despoiling of the British countryside. Instead, explanations of the organic method are an underlying, but essential, part of telling the garden's story

The narrative of how the garden has developed over two decades is an interesting one, and any gardener will enjoy and be inspired by the beautiful photography. And although few of us are able to garden on the Prince's scale, there is still an awful lot in here we can learn from, adapt to our own uses, or blatantly poach -- from simple decorating and arranging ideas to complex schemes of crop rotation or building construction. Helpfully, Highgrove's head gardener, David Howard, includes a chapter explaining how the transition from traditional gardening to organic approaches began, and some of the key techniques he employs and lessons he's learned. This is followed by six entire pages of listings of various types of plants cultivated in the different gardens and illustrated in each chapter. This, especially, may prove to be a handy resource for many readers.

If there's one noticeable drawback to this book, it's that there's no overall map or diagram showing where the various gardens are in relation to one another and the house. All I can think is that (assuming there is a reason for not including one) this may be for security purposes -- though that seems unlikely given the number of photographs already included. But after taking an otherwise thorough tour through the kitchen garden, the walled garden, the box garden, the fountain garden, across the terrace, past the sanctuary, under the rose arch, down the thyme walk (my favorite), along the serpentine hedge ... and all the rest, it would have been nice to have a comprehensive view of how it all fits together.

After having read the earlier title about this garden, it was nice to return six or seven years later (in publishing time) and see how it's all progressing. As the quote on the back cover says, "The Prince of Wales has created at Highgrove one of the most admired gardens in the country," and from philosophy to planning to execution, it's a garden that through this book, we can learn things from or, if we prefer, simply sit back and enjoy.

I got this book earlier this year from Amazon U.K., wasn't out here yet, and really liked it. For your money you get a fairly recent photo tour of the grounds at Highrove, Prince Charles country home. There are a lot of pictures of plant life, details of some of the buildings and even some examples of outdoor sculpture. You even learn of a treehouse built for young Princes William & Harry as well as a garden seat given as a wedding present to the Prince and Princess of Wales (nice to know that the Princess hasn't been completely cleared away), two of many details that I haven't seen on television or read in some book or magazine article. I consider the book to be worth owning (just don't expect much gardening information), I just wish there could be a book tour of the interior of the house and other buildings to go with it.