Irish-American Books

I have really enjoyed reading her books they make me feel like I am in the story. I laugh and cry out loud. I really would recomend this series to someone who likes love, hate and mystery all rolled in to one. The characters to me are funny and real

Benni Harper is busy with many projects. Thereýs a new exhibit going into the artistýs co-op, sheýs writing up the story of Japanese-Americans from the area during World War II, and sheýs helping put on a senior prom at San Celinaýs retirement home. As the dance draws to a close, she finds two of the residences murdered. What did they have in common that would lead to their deaths? Meanwhile, old flame Clay OýHara is back in town. His status as lead suspect starts to come between Benni and Gabe. Benni finds herself drawn into solving this case no matter what Gabe says. If she stays alive long enough to do it, will this end their relationship?

Once again, Ms. Fowler has written a captivating story told with real emotion. Itýs hard not to be drawn into this world and really care for the characters. I found myself choking up on more then one occasion, yet also smiling and laughing at many of the lighter moments. The plot seems to get a little sidetracked near the middle, but picks up speed and reaches an interesting and satisfying conclusion.

Anyone looking for a mystery with strong characters and interesting stories will love this series. I wonýt be able to stop myself from picking up the next to see what these people, I mean characters, are up to next.

In this story Benni Harper is sponsoring a dance at the local retirement home. Clay O'Hara, a handsome man from her past is in town to visit his retired uncle and wants to resume a relationship with Benni. Of course she's flattered, but she has been dating Gabe Ortiz, the Acting Police Chief for several months and they may be on their way to some type of commitment. When two of the residents of the retirement home are killed, Chief Ortiz suspects Clay of the murders. Benni's defense of her old friend Clay, causes a rift between her and Gabe.

Due to the fact that one of the murdered victims was involved in helping the local Japanese community, the author gives us the very fascinating and tragic story of the Japanese Americans who were sent to internment camps during World War II.

Earlen Fowler keeps the reader entertained with her interesting characters in her second Benni Harper Book.

It's so much fun to read about many of my favorites... I love California, love quilts, love murder mysteries and fun characters! I liked this one so much I bought the rest of the series....

This is my first by Earlene Fowler, and as a quilter, I was really looking forward to a quilting mystery. It wasn't. QUilting was extremely tangential to the plot and in fact, there's not a lot of mention of quilting at all. I could have forgiven that, but there's too little time spent on the mystery, in my opinion, and too much time spent on our heroine's love life, most of which seemed to consist of passionate urges and fights with her boyfriend (and frankly, he had my sympathy as much as she did).

The plot involves two residents of a nursing home found dead in a room. Our heroine Benni Harper gets involved because she discovers the bodies (the night of a prom she's putting on in the nursing home). Her boyfriend is Acting Chief of Police and warns her not to get involved, that it's dangerous and it's not her job to solve this murder. If she had listened, the book would have ended there.

For not very good reasons (mainly, that she's stubborn and doesn't listen to anyone), Benni begins poking around investigating these murders. At the same time, she re-establishes relationships with a couple of men who have reappeared in town, including an old flame (who is, of course, one of the prime suspects -- but does that slow her down any? not our Benni -- she continues to find herself alone with him despite her boyfriend's warnings.)

The book was good enough that I kept reading it and finished it in a few days, but to be honest, I was disappointed because I'd heard such good things. Maybe people who like a lot of romance and not much quilting or mystery will like this book a whole lot more than I did.

Irish Whiskey, the third of Andrew Greeley's Nuala Anne McGrail mysteries is not as successful as its predecessors. The mystery deals with the mysterious death of an Irish bootlegger, Jimmy "Sweet Rolls" Sullivan and once again Nuala has the feeling something is not quite right with the story. But the mystery plays second fiddle to two sub-plots; the upcoming wedding of Nuala and her stalwart Watson, Dermot, and a case against Dermot concerning how he achieved the financial independence he has. The former is a problem due to the machinations of Nuala's oldest brother; the latter is caused by a vindictive figure from Dermot's past. Both these storylines take away from the original mystery, which plays second fiddle to these soap opera plot lines. While Greeley continues to make Nuala and Dermot enjoyable and believable characters this was a disappointing sequel.

Nuala Anne and her finance are wandering through an old cemetery when they happen upon the tombstone of a notorious Chicago gangster. Fiance proceeds to tell the story of this man's demise, however Nuala Anne tends to disagree. Her extra Irish female intuition is at work and claims that all is not what it appears to be! The twosome adventure through quite a detective story that rattles old bones well-kept in closets. They find themselves in the mix of the current day Mafia and having conversations with people who have mixed emotions about keeping decades old secrets in the skeleton closet where they belong.

Dear reader is delighted to enjoy an interesting work of fiction loosely connected to Chicago Mafia history. Repeated Irish outburts by the indefatigable lass keep us smiling continuously. The story is well-written and encourages investigation of other works by Greeley.

I've liked Greeley's work ever since a friend handed me _God Game_ almost two decades ago. Now, however, I'm formally and officially in awe of the man's craftsmanship. I read the book in a headlong, two-days-and-one-night rush, all the while thinking: "This story *shouldn't* be working . . . but it is." It works because Greeley's storytelling abilities salvage a plot that would, in the hands of a lesser writer, have ended in the literary equivalent of a train wreck.

Like the two earlier volumes in the series, _Irish Whiskey_ sets Dermot and Nuala both a historical mystery to unravel. This time, however, the mystery takes more exposition than usual to set up and--once set up--pays off in an unsurprising solution that Dermot and Nuala don't so much reason out as stumble over. Resolution comes in the form of still *more* exposition. Yawn.

Also like the two earlier volumes in the series, _Irish Whiskey_ gives Dermot and Nuala personal obstacles to overcome. Up until now, the problems have been mutual--two lovers working out the tempo and texture of their relationship. This time, however, the problems are separate and external, taking the focus off the Dermot-Nuala relationship at a crucial time in their lives (just prior to their wedding). It doesn't help that the characters responsible for their problems (Nuala's obnoxious brother, Dermot's slimy ex-school-chum, and a politically ambitious prosecutor) are two-dimensional caricatures in a book whose main characters act like living, breathing human beings. Greeley, who can motivate characters with the best of them, barely bothers here. The "bad guys" are rotten to the heroes because . . . well, because *somebody* has to be for the plot to work. The lawyer is particularly ill-served by this. Throughout the last third of the book she repeatedly does boneheaded things for no other reason than to keep the plot moving and set up a big courtroom showdown.

And yet . . . (as herself might put it), doesn't the good Father Greeley make it a fine read altogether? Nuala and Dermot are still two of the *nicest* fictional characters this side of Spider Robinson's "Callahan's Bar" stories, and their dialogue is still delightful for its unfamiliar rhythms (unfamiliar to Yankee ears, anyhow), its humor, and its affectionate verbal jousting. The courtroom scene is riveting, and it's a pleasure to see Dermot's sister (the lawyer in the family) come into her own as a character. I finished the book the way I finished the first two: Smiling broadly, and wishing I could wangle an invitation to dinner with Dermot, Nuala, and their extended families. Ah, now wouldn't that be a time?

I now have read all three of this lovely trilogy and hope and pray to Nuola for the stories to go on and on and on and on.

I have probably 2/3rds of the Greeley novels, including Irish Lace and Gold. After the first few pages I thought this was going to be a quickly slapped together journal of the events leading up to the nuptials of our heroes, Dermot and Nuala. In fact, I put it down, and only picked it up again after some unexpected down time.

For those of you who presevere, you will find the usual complicated mystery threads, that always tie together quite nicely by the end.

I love Greeley's lack of pretension. I live on the "fringes" of the Chicago Irish community. By that I mean I belong, by heritage, and I am enjoying the recent resurgance of anything Gaelic and Irish, but some take it too far. Many in the community tend to wrap their nationality, newfound respectability and religion about themselves, and use it as a cover to excuse immoral or otherwise bad behavior. Greeley always manages to blow these people away!

What I have always enjoyed about Greeley is his social stance. The protagonists are flawed, yet quietly pious and moral. That would describe Nuala and Dermot. Her brother Lawrence represents the other side of the coin, hiding behind his heritage as he imposes his hatred on everyone else. To me, how the lovers handled his intrusion was the far more interesting mystery of the book.

Tucker has put together a solidly researched and masterfully written history of not just Notre Dame and the Klan, but the innermost thoughts and manipulations of those who wielded the power of the KKK in its heyday. One does not have to have any association with Notre Dame to enjoy this book. Superbly done

Todd Tucker exploits one of the least known storys of the University of Notre Dame in a great way. He doesn't keep it boring, which i have found most other history books to be. It is a very easy read, but not in a bad way at all. I really enjoyed how he also brought in the history of Notre Dame, which i don't think i really would have known otherwise. Also how he talked about the beloved football team. I couldn't asked for anything less.

The true story of how the teams, faculty and student body
were able to fend off this attempt by the Klu Klux Clan to
destroy the university. An exciting one sit reading.

I am a Notre Dame graduate(class of 1959)and had heard of this clash between the ND student body and KKK, but I knew only the barest details. Therefore, this book was most welcome. It not only covers the 1924 confrontation in almost minute-by-minute detail but serves as a fascinating informal history of both the KKK, especially its post-"Birth of a Nation" spread in the North, and of the University itself from its 1842 founding date. The book should therefore be fascinating to any ND alum, including those of the subway variety, and would probably be of interest to a general readership was well.

Very interesting history of both Notre Dame and the Klan in Indiana, particularly relevant to anyone with an interest in either Notre Dane or the KKK. (We all might have guessed that a prominent member of Indiana society was a Klansman, but who knew that he kidnapped a girl and bit her to death?) Tucker's book is a little less sensational than that previous sentence implies, but this is a nonfiction book that reads with a lot of drama and excitement.

Mystery, suspense, action, friendships and romance are interwoven so well that it will make you hours late for whatever you were supposed to be doing or wherever you were supposed to be. Watch out or you will finish the book without having meant to. Do yourself a favor and start the book during the weekend!

I have read all the molloy murphy mysteries and recommend them to any good mystery buff. The books move well and the plot is well developed with great twists and turns.

The history of this book transports you back to the turn of the century New York. Molly is a women that I would like to know. In fact she might have been my great grandmother.

This is the third Molly Murphy mystery. I've not read them in any particular order, as each book will stand alone.
In this book, she is working two cases. She goes undercover in a sweat shop and is also hired by a wealthy Englishman to find his daughter, who has run away. The two cases will come together. Another woman is thought to be Molly and is murdered, Molly is in a fire and in the closing pages is almost thrown from a bridge. Molly is an Irish immigrant living in New York City in the early 1900's. You've got to love Molly and her friends.

In addition to the wonderful character of Molly Murphy, I love the descriptions of old NY (of course, I AM a NYer!) esp the conditions of sweatshops, the backbone (and scarlet letter) of the garment industry. many people think of the fancy mansions and the Astors when they think of that time period, before they think of the slums and inquality that existed at the time.

also, nice samuel clemens name dropping!

Watch Video Here: http://www.amazon.com/review/R3A80YKC8W7UEE New Chronology is a theory validated by astronomical research and statistical analysis of ancient manuscripts that asserts: that Antiquity and Dark Ages are phantoms invented in the 16th 18th centuries. Human civilization is barely 1000 years old!

New Chronology complies with the most rigid scientific standards:

- It gives a coherent explanation of what we already know;
- It is consistent: independent lines of inquiry all lead to the same conclusion;
- The predictions it makes are confirmed empirically;

New Chronology goes by the following basic axioms:
- Chronology is the basis of history;
- Human evolution has always been linear, gradual and irreversible;
- The "cyclic" nature of human civilization is a myth, likewise all the gaps, duplicates, "dark ages" and "renaissances" that we know from consensual history are fantasy and hoax;
- The accumulation of geographical knowledge as reflected in cartography is a gradual and irreversible process;
- The closer in time is a given manuscript to the events described the less distortions it contains;
- There is no "useless" information in authentic ancient sources.

Fomenko asserts: There was no such thing as the Tartar and Mongol invasion followed by over two centuries of yoke and slavery, providing a formidable body of documental evidence to prove his assertion. The so-called "Tartars and Mongols" were the actual ancestors of the modern Russians, living in a trilingual state with Arabic and Turkic spoken as freely as Russian. The ancient Russian state was governed by a double structure of civil and military authorities. The hordes were actually professional armies with a tradition of lifelong conscription (the recruitment being the so-called "blood tax"). Their "invasions" were punitive operations against the regions that attempted tax evasion. Fomenko proves that official Russian history is a blatant forgery concocted by a host of German scholars brought to Russia by the usurper dynasty of the Romanovs. Their ascension to the throne was the result of conspiracy, so they charged these imported historians with the mission of making Romanov's reign look legitimate.

Fomenko proves Ivan the Terrible to be a collation of four rulers, no less. They represented the two rival dynasties - the legitimate Godunov rulers and the ambitious Romanov upstarts.

As Fomenko blows consensual Russian history to smithereens, he successfully removes a crucial cornerstone from underneath the otherwise impeccable edifice of World History. Fomenko adds insult to injury, wiping out one by one: the Ancient Rome: the foundation of Rome in Italy is dated to the 14th century A. D., the Ancient Greece and its numerous poleis, which he identifies as the mediaeval crusader settlements on the territory of Greece.

The Ancient Egypt: the pyramids of Giza become dated to the 11th to 14th century A. D. and identified as the royal cemetery of the Global "Mongolian" Empire, no less. The civilization of the Ancient Egypt is irrefutably dated to the 11th to 15th century A. D. with the aid of the ancient Egyptian horoscopes cut in stone, like enormous Dendera horoscope that hangs in main entrance to the Louvre museum in Paris.

He was the first one to decipher and date unambiguously all such horoscopes, coming up with mediaeval dates in every case.

English historians rage at the suggestion that the history of Ancient England was de facto a Byzantine import transplanted to the English soil by the fugitive Byzantine nobility. To reward the English historians who consider themselves the true scribes of World History, the cover of the book "History: Fiction or Science?" portrays Tintoretto's Jesus Christ crucified on the Big Ben.

Fomenko wipes out the Ancient History of China outright. No such ancient history. Period. The compilation of the so-called Ancient Chinese History is reliably datable to the 17th 18th century only. It is perfectly recognizable as the Ancient European history, reworked and transcribed in hieroglyphs as yet another historical transplantation, this time performed on the Chinese soil by the loving Jesuit hands. The Chinese are the next in line to go berserk. Chinese history is inevitably bound to get both more ancient and more eventful, proportionally to the growing involvement of China in the world affairs. Chinese historians will keep on finding valid proof of prehistoric Chinese spaceflights until the Politburo orders them otherwise.

Islam with all its key figures appears as late as 15th-16th century A. D. as a branch of proto-Christianity. This is amply illustrated by imagery of Prophet Mahomet, archangel Gabriel, Heaven and Hell of this period. In today's Islam all imagery of the things living is taboo.

Arabic historians may find consolation in the crucial historical role of the Ottoman Empire in the 16th 17th century. The trouble is that this empire was initially a proto Christian state, with Hagia Sophia identifiable as Temple of Solomon, according to Fomenko! We can only guess if the acquisition of Alexander the Great (a Macedonian and a Christian!) as the founder of the Muslim World Empire will make Fomenko's theories more acceptable to the Arabic mainstream. He certainly does not spare any holy cows at all, claiming The Stone of Qa'Aba in Mecca to contain the lost Arch of the Covenant.


The history of religions according to Fomenko looks as follows: the pre-Christian period (before the 11th century and Jesus Christ ), Bacchic Christianity (11th to 12th century, before and after Jesus Christ), Jesus Christ Christianity (12th to 14th century) and its subsequent mutations (15th to 17th) into Orthodox Christianity, the Catholicism, Protestantism, Islam, Buddhism, and so on..

Saint Augustine was quite prescient when he said: "be wary of mathematicians,.. particularly when they speak the truth."

Henry Ford once said: "History is more or less bunk!"

Prominent mathematician Anatoly Fomenko not only proved it for a fact, but as true scientist tried to upgrade it into a rocket science.

This book will change your perception of History forever!
What if Ancient Rome, Greece and Egypt were invented during Renaissance?
What if The Old Testament was a rendition of events of the Middle Ages?
What if Jesus Christ was born in 1053 and crucified in 1086 AD?
Sounds Unbelievable?
Not after you've read "History: Fiction or Science?" by Anatoly Fomenko, the genius mathematician.
Armed with astronomy and computers Anatoly Fomenko turns History into a rocket science.

I don't care what other people say of this book. Those affirmig it's fake, they hadn't ever read it. Or have some special reasons to do so. "Living is easy with eyes closed, misunderstanding all you see..." This book won't make you feel comfortable. It'll make you feel free. It'll make you feel you're "not the only one" to feel you'd been lied to for centuries.

We can so far divide the New Chronology into the following three parts:

a) The verifiable theory that proves consensual chronology wrong with the aid of astronomy, statistics and mathematics;

b) The new chronology hypothesis based on a new understanding of known historical facts and the most likely logical explanation of the most obvious inconsistencies inherent in the official version of history;

c) The history conjectures, that is experimental historical reconstructions based on assumptions that the authors believe to make sense in the light of their research and linguistic parallels - void of ironclad factual support to date.

Fomenko's theory complies with the most rigid scientific standards as a whole:

It gives a coherent explanation of what we already know.

- It is consistent: independent lines of inquiry all lead to the same conclusion.

- The predictions it makes are confirmed empirically.

Fomenko goes by the following axioms:

- Chronology is the basis of history;

- Human evolution has always been linear, gradual and irreversible;

- The "cyclic" nature of human civilization is a myth, likewise all the gaps, duplicates, "dark ages" and "renaissances" that we know from consensual history;

- The accumulation of geographical knowledge as reflected in cartography is a gradual and irreversible process;

- The chronological distance between a given manuscript and the events described therein is proportional to the amount of distortions it contains;

- There is no "useless" information in authentic ancient sources.

Why the mainstream historians do not shower mathematician Academician Dr.Prof Fomenko with thanks and laurels?

The Russians:

Because Fomenko asserts that there was no such thing as the Tartar and Mongol invasion followed by three centuries of slavery, providing a formidable body of documental evidence to prove his assertion. The so-called "Tartars and Mongols" were the actual ancestors of the modern Russians, living in a bilingual state with Arabic spoken as freely as Russian. The ancient Russian state was governed by a double structure of civil and military authorities. The hordes were actually professional armies with a tradition of lifelong conscription (the recruitment being the so-called "blood tax"). Their "invasions" were punitive operations against the regions that attempted tax evasion. Fomenko proves that Russian history as we know it today is a blatant forgery concocted by a host of German scientists brought to Russia by the usurper dynasty of the Romanovs, whose ascension to the throne was the result of coup d'état, charged with the mission of making their reign look legitimate. Fomenko proves Ivan the Terrible to be a collation of four rulers, no less. They represented the two rival dynasties - the legitimate rulers and the ambitious upstarts. The winner took it all! Over some 30 years of controversy, Russian historians have made a most remarkable transition - they were initially accusing the young mathematician Fomenko of anticommunist dissident activity and attempts to deface the historical legacy of Soviet Russia; nowadays the middle-aged mathematician is accused of adhering to "pro-communist Russian nationalism" and defacing the proud historical legacy of Great Russia.

The Westerners:

Because Fomenko blows consensual Russian history to smithereens, successfully removing a crucial cornerstone from underneath the otherwise impeccable edifice of World History. Fomenko adds insult to injury, wiping out one by one the Ancient Rome (the foundation of Rome in Italy is dated to the XIV century A. D.), the Ancient Greece and its numerous poleis, which he identifies as the mediaeval crusader settlements on the territory of Greece, and the Ancient Egypt (the pyramids of Giza become dated to the XI-XV century A. D. and identified as the royal cemetery of the Global "Mongolian" Empire, no less). The civilization of the Ancient Egypt is irrefutably dated to the XII-XV century A. D. with the aid of the ancient Egyptian horoscopes cut in stone. He was the first one to decipher and date all such horoscopes, coming up with mediaeval dates in every case. English historians rage at the suggestion that the history of Ancient England was de facto a Byzantine import transplanted to the English soil by the fugitive Byzantine nobility. To reward the English historians who consider themselves the true scribes of World History, the cover of the present book portrays Tintoretto's Jesus Christ crucified on the Big Ben.

The Chinese:

Because Fomenko wipes out the Ancient History of China outright. No such thing. Full point. The compilation of the so-called Ancient Chinese History is reliably datable to the XVII-XVIII century only. It is perfectly recognizable as the Ancient European history, reworked and transcribed in hieroglyphs as yet another historical transplantation, this time performed on the Chinese soil by the loving Jesuit hands. The Chinese are the next in line to go berserk. Chinese history is inevitably bound to get both more ancient and more eventful, proportionally to the growing involvement of China in the world affairs. Chinese historians will keep on finding valid proof of prehistoric Chinese spaceflights until the Politburo orders them to shut up.

The Arabs:

Too bad. Islam with all its key figures is datable to XV-XVI century A. D. Arabic historians may find consolation in the crucial historical role of the Ottoman Empire in the XVI-XVII century. The trouble is that this empire was initially a Christian state, with Hagia Sophia identifiable as Temple of Solomon, according to Fomenko! We can only guess if the acquisition of Alexander the Great (a Macedonian and a Christian) as the founder of the Muslim World Empire will make Fomenko's theories more acceptable to the Arabic mainstream. He certainly does not spare any holy cows at all, claiming The Stone of Qa'Aba in Mecca to contain the lost Arch of the Covenant.

The Divinity:

Despite of reiterated statement that his theory is all about chronology and not Religion, Fomenko stirs up a whole condominium of wasp nests. His collection of anathemas, fatwa, and other condemnations from all parties concerned is already considerable. Little wonder, considering that the history of religions à la Fomenko looks as follows: the pre-Christian period (before the XI century and JC), Bacchic Christianity (XI-XII century, before and after JC), JC Christianity (XII-XVI century) and its subsequent mutations into Orthodox Christianity, the Catholicism, Islam, Buddhism, and so on.

According to Fomenko we know strictly NOTHING about the events that predate the X century A. D.

St Augustin was prescient when he spoke unto us: "be wary of mathematicians, particularly when they speak the truth."

Like Erich von Däniken, the Creationists, and the legion of sensational conspiracy theorists, this book makes huge claims based on speculation founded on the most superficial and selective reading of the historical record.

Most insulting to one's intelligence is the claim that C14 dating could be so far off the mark. This method has been tried and tested for 50 years. It is based on the known decay rate of an unstable isotope, that occurs in fairly predictable amounts. Calibration merely raises the accuracy from around 10% to 1% error margin. Even without calibration, the measurement of various isotopes has given civilisation a history of thousands, not hundreds of years.

Tree rings are a well understood phenomenon in biology. These can be used to obtain accurately dated samples more than 4000 years old. C14 dating can be calibrated with these samples to adjust for slight variations in C14 levels due to the solar cycle. This enables us to date to within a couple of decades samples dating back to early classical times.

However, this is only a part of the evidence, there is layering of earth above sites, known geological events like volcanic eruptions, traces of natural and human activity all correlated. How do we explain Pompei? If we want to apply Occam's razor, is it really easier to believe in a huge medieval conspiracy, that was able to construct a consistent history, complete with archaeological evidence that had not yet been found? And that all of the thousands of scientists involved in dating have been misled?

I can only conclude that this book was written as a money spinner to hook the gullible, like so many other conspiracy books.

Here is a serie of books which turns "the whole world" upside down. I learned a lot of it and I hope that a new book from A.T. Fomenko will follow very quick. A absolute must for everybody who is interested in history or even a little bit from it.

A Midwinter's Tale, Andrew Greeley's first book in the O'Malley series, is the adventures of a young man growing up in the great depression and World War II. Charles Cronin O'Malley, the main character and narrator, tells the tale. Chuck (called Chucky by most folks) is the center of the story. The narrative begins as he is a young boy and briefly talks of middle school and Catholic High School years, then records his service in the Army. Most of the book concerns his military life stationed in Bamberg Germany (1946-7).

I liked the adventures in Bamberg. I was stationed in Germany myself, many years after Chucky, and I love the little towns and picturesque villages . As Chucky cruised around the German countryside and walked the streets, I felt I was again in Germany enjoying the people and the culture. For a veteran, Chuck's activities with the Army are hilarious.

This is a chronicle of a boy coming of age. The story emphasizes Chuck's psychological and social growth and adjustment. Greeley provides artful character development and intrigue, especially in Germany, where Chuck serves with the Constabulary Forces of the American Occupational Army. Chuck's exploits, mostly well intentioned and frequently comical, lend excitement and interest to the story.

An excellent account of the development of a boy. Interesting details about living during the great depression and post war Germany. A pleasant read.

A coming of age, a little romance, a little suspense, a little mystery-- Father Greeley has put a little of everything into this coming of age story of a young Irish American. As in many of Greeley's stories, this "accidental" hero soon grabs the heart of the reader. The yarn of adventures wrapped around the characters as young Chucky grows up keeps you hooked, and will entice you into reading through the whole series to see what Chucky Ducky and the "crazy O'Malley's" will do next. I highly recommend.

This is an unusually (sorry, Father) cleverly written book. Lots of
narrative, sentiment and good lines. One of my favorites is on
p. 300. Greeley has this warmly naive fraulein say to the story's
hero, whose car is running out of gas, "May I ask you a question,
Karl?" Answer: "I have to concentrate on driving the car,
Trudi. Please don't bother me." And Trudi says, "But does
the E on that gauge mean empty?" Dry wit at its best!

Greeley's
history is wonderfully accurate. I wish he would have mentioned one of
my wartime favorites, the eponymous H.V. Kaltenborn. I would have
liked a little less sarcasm (mild tho' it was) and less G.I. obscenity
(tolerable tho' it was).

This book deserves a movie contract- with
Father Andrew directing!

I enjoyed this book, spending the better part of a Sunday afternoon to finish it. It is the beginning of a series focused on bright and personable young Chuck O'Malley. The young man has the gift for detective work that is a common trait of Greeley's protagonists. While the setting and character types are familiar from other Greeley novels, the story is a pleasant exploration of familiar territory. This story provided a nice balance of action, suspense, and good characters. It's frustration is that it is the first installment in a series and just when you want more the book ends. Of course, the next installment is available as I write this belated review. Chuck O'Malley may just end up on my favorite character list along with Blackie Ryan and the Coynes (Dermot and Naula Ann).

Father Greeley introduces us to new and captivating fictional (but don't we know real-life folks similiar?) Irish-Catholic families in Chicago and deftly interweaves them with suspense in Post World War II Germany. But, here's a *WARNING* I wish I would have known when I started this book: this is "Part One" of the saga. Unlike the Blackie Ryan or Nuala Ann books, it is NOT self-contained. One must read the 2d of this series, _Younger Than Springtime_, to have even a glimmer of how it all ends. Order both now, so you won't have to pester your Postperson to keep reading ;-) I hope, to complete the saga (still not wholly resolved at the end of _Springtime_,)that there will be a _Summer_ and _Autumn_?

This shows the greatest love in the world: a mother's love for her son. As a result of this love, her son has a great desire to please his mother and a need for her to be proud of him.====Growing up in a New York City neighborhood during the 1940's and 1950's is very difficult for Dennis because of peer pressure and also because he is very resentful and resistive of all authority in his life, but grow up he does!====You cannot read this well-written narrative without some laughter and some tears,but you do come away from it with some understanding of the universal mother-child love.====If you read and loved Frank McCourt's "Angela's Ashes", you will certainly love this wonderful memoir. Good for you, Dennis Smith!!!

I READ THIS BOOK IN ONE WEEK END WHILE VISITING MY DAUGHTER. IT WAS A DELITE FOR ME . ALTHOUGH RAISED IN THE CITY OF CHICAGO , AND BEING FEMALE, THE TIME PERIOD MATCHED AND SO DID THE FELLOWS THAT GREW UP IN MY NEIGHBORHOOD. WE WERE EITHER IRISH, ITALIAN OR JEWISH. HE REALLY TAKES ONE INSIDE THIS LITTLE FELLOW AND WOULD CERTAINLY GIVE ANY MOTHER WITH A REBEL SON HOPE. I LOVED IT!

Encore, encore. . . what a beautiful, wonderful story. I did not want this book to end I enjoyed it so thoroughly. What a brave and determined woman Mary was, and such an incredibly loving mother. This book is such a touching tribute to her, as well as a gut-wrenching look at growing up dirt poor and finding your own way in life. I loved this book and highly recommend it. Bravo Mr. Smith!

This book brought back many memories of growing up on the East Side of Manhattan in the early 50's. It's a poignant, yet loving look at "coming of age". I highly recommend it...

Dennis Smith's "A Song for Mary" is a powerful, emotionally gripping memoir that is one of the finest published in recent years. Along with Pete Hamill's "A Drinking Life", and Frank McCourt's "Angela's Ashes", it belongs in the first rank of great memoirs written by Irish-American authors. Speaking of Hamill, it is a Manhattan version of "A Drinking Life", replete with the chaos and woe associated with growing up poor and Irish in New York City. Smith's vivid prose conjurs up the Irish-American neighobrhood that was once the East Side of Midtown Manhattan. We see a young, bright Dennis Smith almost drawn into a life of petty crime, yet saved by love and devotion from his mother and local Catholic priests. Eventually the book ends positively, with his arrival as the rookie fireman at Engine Company 82, setting the stage for the events he described two decades ago in his bestselling memoir "Report from Engine Company 82". I am surprised that this fine book hasn't earned the wide audience it deserves. Anyone who has fallen in love with Frank McCourt's "Angela's Ashes" should also fall in love with Dennis Smith's "A Song for Mary".

Thy merit hath my duty strongly knit,
To thee I send this written embassage,
To witness duty, not to show my wit.
(Sonnet 26.)

How to do justice to the legacy of literary history's greatest mind -- moreover in such a limited review? Forget Goethe's "universal genius" and his rebel contemporary Schiller; forget the 19th century masters; forget contemporary literature: with the possible (!) exception of three Greek gentlemen named Aischylos, Sophocles and Euripides, a certain Frenchman called Poquelin (a/k/a Moliere), and that infamous Irishman Oscar Wilde, there's more wit in a single line of Shakespeare's than in an entire page of most other, even great, authors' works. And I'm not saying this in ignorance of, or in order to slight any other writer: it's precisely my admiration of the world's literary giants, past and present, that makes me appreciate Shakespeare even more -- and that although I'm aware that he repeatedly borrowed from pre-existing material and that even the (sole) authorship of the works published under his name isn't established beyond doubt. For ultimately, the only thing that matters to me is the brilliance of those works themselves; and quite honestly, the mysteries continuing to enshroud his person, to me, only enhance his larger-than-life stature.

The precise dating of Shakespeare's sonnets -- like other poets', a response to the 1591 publication of Sir Philip Sidney's "Astrophil and Stella" -- is an even greater guessing game than that of his plays: although #138 and #144 (slightly modified) appeared in 1599's "Passionate Pilgrim," most were probably circulated privately, and written years before their first -- unauthorized, though still authoritative -- 1609 publication; possibly beginning in 1592-1593.

Format-wise, they adopt the Elizabethan fourteen-line-structure of three quatrains of iambic pentameters expressing a series of increasingly intense ideas, resolved in a closing couplet; with an abab-cdcd-efef-gg rhyme form. (Sole exceptions: #99 -- first quatrain amplified by one line -- #126 -- six couplets & only twelve lines total -- #145 -- written in tetrameter -- and #146 -- omission of the second line's beginning; the subject of a lasting debate.) Their order is thematic rather than chronological, although beyond the fact that the first 126 are addressed to a young man -- maybe the Earl of Pembroke or Southampton, maybe Sir Robert Dudley, the natural son of Queen Elizabeth's "Sweet Robin," the Earl of Leicester -- (the first seventeen, possibly commissioned by the addressee's family, pressing his marriage and production of an heir), and ##127-152 (or 127-133 and 147-152) to an exotic woman of questionable virtues only known as "The Dark Lady," even in that respect much remains unclear; including the nature of Shakespeare's relationship with the two main addressees, regarding which the sonnets' often ambiguous metaphors invoke much speculation. #145 is probably addressed to Shakespeare's wife; the closing couplet plays on her maiden name ("['I hate' from] hate away she threw And saved my life, [saying 'not you']:" "Hathaway -- Anne saved my life"), several others contain puns on the name Will and its double meaning(s) (exactly fourteen in the naughty #135: "Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy Will;" and seven in the similarly mischievous #136), and the last two draw on the then-popular Cupid theme. Sometimes, placement seems linked to contents, e.g., in #8 (music: an octave has eight notes), #12 and #60 (time: twelve hours to both day and night; sixty minutes to an hour); and in the famous #55, which praises poetry's everlasting power and as whose never-expressly-named subject Shakespeare himself emerges in a comparison with Horace's Ode 3.30 -- in turn written in first person singular and thus, denoting its own author as the builder of its "monument more lasting than bronze" ("Exegi monumentum aere perennius") -- as well as through the number "5"'s optical similarity to the letter "S," making the sonnet's number a shorthand reference for "5hake5peare" or "5hakespeare's 5onnets," echoed by numerous words containing an "S" in the text.

Of indescribable linguistic beauty, elegance and complexity, Shakespeare's sonnets owe their timeless appeal to their supreme compositional values, the universality of their themes, and their keen insights into the human heart and soul; as much as their transcendence of the era's poetic conventions which, following Petrarch, heavily idealized the addressee's qualities: a form new and exciting twohundred years earlier, but encrusted in cliche in the late 1500s. Indeed, Shakespeare's "Dark Lady" Sonnet #130 owes its particular fame to its clever puns on that very style, which went overboard with references to its golden-haired, starry- (beamy-, sparkling, sunny-) eyed, cherry- (strawberry-, vermilion-, coral-) lipped, rosy- (crimson-, purple-, dawn-) cheeked, ivory- (lily-, carnation-, crystal-, silver-, snowy-, swan-white) skinned, pearl-teethed, honey- (nectar-, music-) tongued, goddess-like objects. "My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;" the Bard countered, proceeded to describe her breasts as "dun," her hair as "black wires," and her breath as "reek[ing]," and denied her any divine or angelic attributes. "And yet," he concluded: "by heaven, I think my love as rare As any she belied with false compare."

Arguably, Shakespeare's very choice of addressees (a young man -- also the subject of the famously romantic #18: "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day;" the first of several sonnets promising his immortalization in poetry -- as well as the "Dark Lady," in turn introduced under the notion "black is beautiful" in #127) itself suggests a break with tradition; and compared to his contemporaries' poetry, even the equally-famous #116's on its face rather conventional praise of love's constancy ("Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments"), echoed in the poet's vow to vanquish time in #123, sounds fairly restrained. But ultimately, Shakespeare's sonnets -- like his entire work -- simply defy categorization. They are, as rival Ben Jonson acknowledged, written "for all time," just as the Bard himself immodestly claimed:

'Gainst death and all oblivious enmity
Shall you pace forth; your praise shall still find room
Even in the eyes of all posterity
That wear this world out to the ending doom.
(Sonnet 55.)

Shakespeare's collection of sonnets is so much a part of the western cultural heritage that reviewing it is kind of like taking coals to Newcastle, but it is worth a few words. First, however, a note about this edition: it is exactly what I wanted, with a few unobstructive footnotes at the bottom of each page, an index of first lines, and two critical introductions, one offering up historical context, the other more interpretative. They enhance your reading, they do not do it for you.

Now, why you want to read this collection. Most of us come to the sonnets singly: random reading assignments, in mixed anthologies, or one is quoted provocatively some place. With few exceptions, each is a perfect example of what the sonnet form does and how form itself shapes meaning. But read straight through consecutively, they offer a close-to-the-bone narrative of Shakespeare's preoccupations. This is the source of all that speculation about his sexual preferences. We've all heard lots of opinions on the bard's relationship with the "Young Man" and the "Dark Lady" but there is nothing like getting it first hand, and I must say that my ideas changed after sorting through for myself. For one thing, love--platonic or carnal--is not the only thing on his mind. Immortality, beauty, truth and a few other problems get a work out. The most pleasant surprise is how truly readable and accessible it all is.

Shakespeare was, in my opinion, a far better poet than a playwrite. Not to say that his plays aren't good; he wrote many that are among the best I've read. But some of his others are terribly boring. Not so with his sonnets. This collection is my constant companion, I read a sonnet whenever I feel down. They catalogue the experience of a truly remarkable man in a style both rich and clear. A great collection of great poetry.

This is a nice edition, worthy of gift-giving. There is only one Sonnet per page, so you can choose one and bookmark it for a friend. The paper is quality and the binding and overall look is very good.

This is in reference to the CD (audiobook) Sonnets read by John Gielgud. Just received my copy and was pleasently surprised that the remastered 60's recording is remarkably clear. Gielgud was one of the greatest actor/directors of Shakespeare, and to listen to him read the sonnets "...trippingly on the tongue...", (Hamlet,act 3, sc. 2.) is nothing short of historical.
Listen to them at night or on a rainy day, or just follow along with a hardcopy of the Sonnets in your hand. You'll be reciting them in short order.

Barry Lopez is widely known for his books about the far north, ARCTIC DREAMS and OF WOLVES AND MEN, and for his frequent appearance in HARPERS where he has been a contributing editor since 1984. Lopez is part naturalist and part philospher and the direction of his writing circles constantly from outward observation toward introspection. Ever aware of the cultural biases that comprise our mental baggage when we venture across national, biotic, even temporal lines, he sees through the veils and helps the reader step outside assumptions that bind.
This assemblage of previously uncollected material does not disappoint. From the urban landscapes of his youth, the author carries readers to the four winds and seven continents, touching down in remote Japanese islands, Antarctica, Johannesburg, Seoul, Amsterdam, south Georgia, and among wolf packs in his old Arctic haunts. He climbs over linguistic walls, endures considerable physical discomfort, wonders at the oddments of terrain and biota, and returns again to the collective self. What are our motives? How can we better understand?
While he is best known for naturalistic jaunts, the author is nothing if not curious. What is this business of modern air transport? Start at the beginning: and so he does, visiting Boeing to watch the final assemblage of a 747 - 6 million parts that all fit, precisely. Thence to the skies: logging 50,000 miles in cargo bays and cockpits, reporting on the freight, the flights, the crews, the vibes, and always the terrain. Rockets expode far below over Chechnya, the steel grey ocean shimmers along the Siberian coast, ice runs off to forever
in the polar reaches, and new galaxies of electric illumination range across the planet. Steel pipe, ostrich meat, thoroughbred horses, Ferraris, sneakers, computers, flowers, gold ingots, frozen fish, tropical fish, and 132 tons of stage equipment for a Michael Jackson concert in Buenos Aires are the flotsam and jetsam of air transport these days.
"Perishable" has taken on new meaning as deadlines and fashion collide, making the latest shoe style as perishable as an unfrozen fish in the spoiling heat of just-in-time delivery.
A fine read, rich and alluring, thoughtful and deep.

For me, Mr. Lopez always provides a cerebral and emotional journey with his amazing use of the written word. I was introduced to Barry Holsten Lopez's writing in 1982 with "River Notes" and became a fan instantly. This latest work is less poetry and more prose; focusing on personal revelation. It provoked several emotions, including a sense of loss, throughout the chapters. The book will be a reward for fans as he reveals some personal history in the last set of chapters. When he was a visiting scholar at the University of Georgia, I was sorely dissapointed to not meet him personally, so these chapters were a consolation prize. It was also a challenge to read - more than once I had to dive for the dictionary to discover the nuances in his choice of words.
Enjoy.

I understand some people like this book very much, but I have a dissenting opinion. I did have the pleasure of hearing him read in person and he is indeed very captivating. But keep in mind what this book is about. It is basically a set of essays about places he has been and his insights and knowledge of those places. When it works, it works brilliantly. The essays I liked I could read several times over--he does some fascinating things (traveling on a cargo plane for several weeks comes to mind, or staying with a pottery community also comes to mind). However, when it doesn't work, you realize that not much is really happening and it feels very slow, maybe even unreadable. I just had to stop reading some of the essays after awhile. So it was really hit and miss with me.

What the other reviewers say about his attitude towards life and nature is right. He is very concerned with geography, not just the physical geography of a place, but also the emotional geography of a place. In a time when we don't always feel very connected to places, reading this book could help you feel connected again, to glimmer what it is like to really feel a part of the place in which you live.

This book covers a wide range of subjects that cross the threshold of memory and stop the reader in her tracks. A whole chapter on the wonder of hands - A Passage of the Hands - causes the reader to consider their own hands and those of a young child with a sense of their history and their possibility.

I recommeded the chapter on wood firing of pottery - Effleurage: The Stroke of Fire- to friends who are potters. The world of anagama kilns was opened to me.

About traveling , Lopez states:"If I were to now visit another country,I would ask my local companion, before I saw any museum or library, any factory or fabled town, to walk me in the country of his or her youth, to tell me the name of things and how, traditionally, they have been fitted together in a community. I would ask for the stories, the voice of memory over the land. I would ask to taste the wild nuts and fruits, to see their fishing lures, their bouquets, their fences. I would ask about the history of storms there, the age of trees, the winter color of the hills. Only then would I ask to see the museums."

Read this book and enjoy the journey.

This book is full of beautiful imagry, a must for people who crave to go places and see things. His essays/memoirs excell above all others. The writing reflects his thoughts so vividly you would swear you were there. If you like reading about far away places and the experiences and adventures of a very cultrued and passionate writer, than this is the book for you.

Even though I wanted more out of the book but because I so much enjoy how Pete Hamill writes I have rated this book a 5 star. Being from Brooklyn, I so much enjoy Pete's detail to the trains, the churchs, the bars, the streets and so forth. To me the book is great but I can see for others how they wanted more. I picked up the book on Christmas Eve at Strands Bookstore on Fulton Street and finished it by nightime. The book it only 135 pages long and you can finish it in one evening. The main character, a 17 year old on home from leave from the Navy comes home to what many 17 year old from that time frame faced, with girlfriends, parents, other friends and so forth. All the problems one has, feelings (he wants a gun to shoot someone who now is dating his old girlfiend, parents lack of money (no phone, just got steam heat). If you like Pete Hamill you will enjoy this book (not one of Pete's best but it still is Pete Hamill). If you can't get enough Pete Hamill read this book you will enjoy it.

Pete Hamill Never dissapoints. One beautifully told story of whats important in life. Love and Family

I love Pete Hamill and was looking forward to reading another of his stories about New York at Christmas time. This was a major disappointment.

When it all comes down to it, this is a love story. During a Christmas leave from the navy in 1952, seventeen-year-old Pete returns to Brooklyn to confront unrequited love--for his high school aged girlfriend and for the father he admires but does not know. Through this story the author expresses his love of family, of comrades, and of a Brooklyn that will always be a part of him. Hamill captures the sound of New York in the dialogue of his characters, and he also captures the dreams that so many young people have as they look toward their futures. This is an archetypal story of the American Dream, fathers and sons, and young love. The narrator at times reminds you of Tom Wingfield from THE GLASS MENAGERIE, and the visits to various barrooms may remind you of THE TENDER BAR. That is pretty good company to be in.

I told my wife, after I completed reading The Gift, that I loved the book but I thought it was a man's book and not for her. But she loved it as well, reminding her as it did of people she knew back then...friends of relatives.

I, on the other hand, see a little too much of people who sacrifice current relationships because of past bad luck. Get over it and get on with it. So having Hamill do his take on these people was good for me.

I always say that an eyeroll is sometimes involuntary. When I start to hear a story of self-pity I can feel one coming so I quickly turn my head. A friend of mine says that doing an owl-like turn of the head is every bit as bad.

But Hamill's treatment of the one who has suffered is well done. Other people, and Hamill himself, speak of his glory days and his subsequent misery, leaving the man to almost ruin in silence any relationship he might have had with his grown son.