I would recommend this book to anyone who enjoys cooking.

Florida isn't merely a drab slab of limestone; instead, it is a surprisingly complex and interesting geological lab. For example, most of what we now call Florida was once a part of Africa! In this book, the many chapter authors (edited by Randazzo and Jones) cover the evolution of the Florida platform from the origin of its crystalline basement in paleo-Africa, through its docking with the North American plate, innumerable sea level changes, and the reef building, barrier island migration and mining impacts of the past few thousand years. This text is stuffed with information! The Keys even merit their own chapter -- a wise choice.

This is a university level text; and as such, it contains some of the typically academic dryness of writing and technical terminology which probably wouldn't appeal to the mildly curious reader. But for anyone who is seriously interested in either Florida geology or in carbonate platforms in general, there can probably be no better resource. Because of its thorough coverage of the processes which have built Florida, and its rich scientific bibliography, geology students and librarians will find this book to be a solid reference.

Much has been written about the communal, liturgical aspect of Orthodoxy. Drawing upon the rich resources of Sacred Tradition this book shows how faith is also personal; prayer is personal; the sacraments are personal; the creed is personal; Sacred Tradition is personal; spirituality is personal; the Trinity is personal, etc.

In fact, if faith is not personal it is not real. The ultimate purpose of this book is to help every Christian establish a daily personal relationship with Jesus.

I highly recommend this to everyone!

Over the years, Anthony C. Winkler's rollicking novels of Jamaican life have given me considerable pleasure and insight into Caribbean sensibility. He writes with a great affection for the island nation's people, reveling in their culture and contradictions, equally amused by and compassionate toward all the social strata. However, I'd been curious about the writer himself since first reading THE LUNATIC years ago, after a St. Kitts-born friend and mentor pressed the book into my hand with a smile, saying "You must read this!" The brief bio in his books mentioned he was a native Jamaican and scant else. Who was he? I wondered to myself about his background, his roots, his understanding of Jamaica.

GOING HOME TO TEACH answered my questions and delivered a lot more. At heart, it's Winkler's memoir of his mid-1970s stint, when Michael Manley's "democratic socialist" administration ruled, as an instructor at a government-sponsored rural teacher training school. His return is part altruism, part nostalgia: As the author of successful, widely used college textbooks, he's got tidy sums squirreled away in American banks, so he can afford to return home and work for a pittance. On the other hand, at the time he's thirty-something, divorced, and he's spent thirteen years away from home to study and teach in the U.S., whose society bewilders him.

The meat of the book, though, is both personal and general. Winkler is a raconteur, a griot--a natural born storyteller--and he regales you with stories about his family (particularly his eccentric grandparents and crazy aunts), his encounters with hidebound administrators and bureaucrats, striking students, madmen, and the impossibility of finding competent repairpersons. And then again, there are his observations on American society and culture, the contrasts with Jamaica, and the cultural idiosyncrasies that he attributes to the history of slavery and English colonial rule. GOING HOME TO TEACH is a dense stew of memorable people, incidents and conclusions, richly seasoned with rib-tickling anecdotes.

Indeed, what makes the book really work is Winkler's humor and humanity, his conversational tone, his equanimity whether describing the absurd or the nearly tragic. He's not shy about his foibles, his family's or his countrymen's, and completely droll even when revealing the unpleasant side of paradise. Be cautioned about reading this book in public: you risk indelicate stares for laughing out loud, as I did particularly as I was reading his account of "night life"--the panoply of insects and other critters--in the Jamaican countryside.

There's also the bittersweet. Winkler's ancestry is European and Middle Eastern--which adds up to "white"--but he's Jamaica-born and bred (patois is his "native tongue" much as any other Jamaican's), and that's the land he loves. It results in a certain "double consciousness," which I find ironically analogous to the lot of "Black Americans":

"To be white in a black country with a long English colonial history is to be a pariah, an ambiguous entity. It is to be simultaneously respected and despised, to arouse suspicion and curiosity, to evoke defiance, rudeness, envy, and condescension. It is to be separated from that inalienable birthright every white American enjoys in his country: the expectation of being treated with indifference in a public place....

"The hardest thing about growing up white in a black country is the nagging feeling of not belonging.... Jamaicans of all races who have lived abroad for any length of time also suffer it after returning home, but for the white Jamaican the feeling of not belonging is a cross he must bear even if he has never set foot out of his own country."

If you're already a fan of Winkler's writing, I believe you'll also love this book. If you're not already acquainted, this should be a fine introduction to the man and the land. A highly recommended, rewarding read.