Realising the dream was less easy, but constantly challenging, as he entertainingly reveals with a relish for every facet of the odyssey, from madcap outward journey and the usually warm, sometimes maddening character of his new neighbours near Hania and their coffee, olive oil and grape-fuelled lives, to the vagaries of local building regulations and lawyers' little ways, and the impact of tourism on this history-rich island. Plus the way his two dogs put the "pug" into repugnant.
Nonetheless, the scene-stealer amid the beguiling abundance is Cox himself, not too innocent, too knowing or too pushy and self-righteous. Just the classic, ever-welcome Englishman abroad. Not Hellenic, just differently civilised, happy to share his insights into a richly diverting culture and a life-changing experience.
The book is guaranteed "100% Greek myth-free", but it offers the tasty PS of a handful of recipes.
Next book Cox must let his sketching skill run beyond thumbnail modesty, perhaps illustrating a broader descriptive canvas. How about "A Funny Thing Happened on the way to Athens..."?
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Evelyn Horan - teacher/counselor/author
Jeannie, A Texas Frontier Girl Books One - Three
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Somewhere in Italy, the same time, a more representative portrait was being painted -- the Autobiography of Cellini. While it has the same honesty, it lacks the grace (written in a colloquial style), the liberality, and the meditation of Montaigne. It is probably more represantative of the Renaissance man, and of modern man altogether. Reading Cellini, one comes to understand what Camus meant by the "culture of death" at work in Western history.
Written as a novel (seen, in fact, as a progenitor of the Romantic novel), the Life of Cellini is a remarkable glimpse into the Italy and France in the times of Michelangelo and the Medici. Characters like Francis I of France, Duke Cosimo, Pope Clement VII, and artists like Michelangelo and Titian come to life in brilliant colors. But one shouldn't mistake the intent of Cellini's book as painting a portrait of his times -- no man on earth was ever so in love with himself, and HE is the subject of this book (I had to cringe every time Cellini, about to describe something fantastic, stops and declares "... that is the work of historians. I am only concerned with my affairs..." and leaves off).
I can't say for sure, but the veracity of this book must be almost incontestable, for the most part. Cellini was simply too shameless to be too much of a liar. A few times he tests our credulity: "mistakenly" leaving France with the King's silver, an arbesque "accidentally" firing and killing a man, etc. For the most part, however, we get the whole truth, and in fact more than we wanted to know.
Despite the fame and prestige Cellini comes to, he is little more than a common street rogue and villian. In the course of the book, he murders three people in cold blood, each murder worse than the last (the third time he shoots a man in the throat over a saddle dispute... on Good Friday). He delights in describing his violence ("...I meant to get him the face, but he turned and I stabbed him under the ear."), and he revels in warfare, brawling, and the misfortune of his enemies. Aside from the three murders, there are innumerable foiled and aborted murder attempts. Cellini's sadism reaches new heights when he forces one of his laborers to marry a whore, then pays the woman for sex to humiliate the man. In his descriptions of his crimes, his many run-ins with the law, and his violent disposition, Cellini seems completely unaware of himself and without shame. In fact, the intent of the book is to show him as the virtu -- a hero of divine virtue in a world of lies and deceit.
The portrayal of King Francis alone makes this book worthwhile. He is everything historical events point him out to be. Generous, jovial, and shrewd. The descriptions of the years Cellini spent as Paul III's personal prisoner are another high point, unfortunately capped by the lengthy and horribly tedious poem, "Capitolo," where Cellini clumsily elaborates on his suffering.
As a history and an autobiography, there are few greater works. But aside from its historical and literary value, the Autobiography of Cellini was just fun to read. The audacity and conceit of this horrible man is almost comical, and the loose and efficient prose makes it a smooth read.
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Anthony's ruthless and provocative account of the imaginary happening provides a lucid demonstration of how the unprecedented and the mysterious can only be analyzed and (mis)understood in terms of the prevailing beliefs of the time---its religious and philosophical convictions, the state of its scientific knowledge, its political prejudices, its popular myths and superstitions.
But this is also a novel of great humanity, with a cast of well-drawn, sympathetic, and lifelike characters whose interplay is both tragic and exalting: the soul-searching Jesuit Manoel Pessoa, a rationalist without faith, who hopes at first to defuse the dangerous situation with a cursory proforma inquiry sparing the Quintans dire consequences; his lover Berenice, a herbalist of Jewish origin, who cures the town's sick and is shunned as a witch; the kindly old Franciscan Soares, who believes in the angels; the selfish and gluttonous Inquisitor-General Gomes, who overrides the tribunal with his authority to light the pyres; the tense mystic Bernardo; the enchantingly quixotic King Afonso. "God's Fires" is a story of passion and doomed lives written with insight, biting humour, and bitterness---a far larger book than its disguising science-fiction component would immediately suggest.
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The theme of this book is centered on early Africa, early Africa's stolen legacy and early Africa's contributions to civilization. It also puts an emphasis on how those early contributions was translated into today's American society. In chapters 1-3, Mr. Browder talks about the people of early African civilization. He tells where they came from, who they were, what they did, and when they existed. He puts a special emphasis on the many accomplishments of the early African people. In chapters 4-7, Mr. Browder talks about the stolen legacy of early African civilization. He shows how other civilization took what the early African contributed and made it its own. He goes to great links to show and prove that what the Europeans claim as theirs was actually African in origin and rightfully belong to the African. In addition, he explains how American society has adopted early African symbols into its government structure. The finally chapters 8-10 are designed to assist the African/African-American mind to cope with the information given in chapters 1-7. The last chapters all have to do with building pride and understanding where we still must go and what we still must be.
The period of this book stretches from about 4000BC into the present. The book is structured as to give a chronological development of early African history and its gives you a progressive pattern of how this history has contributed to civilization.
The first seven chapters of this book are excellent. I have read many books on the subject of early African history and its contribution to civilization. This book is the easiest to read and understand. I believe that my son when he reaches the age of 10 would be able to read and comprehend this book. The only weakness of this book is chapters 8-10. These chapters I feel are an extension of his earlier books The Browder File Vol. II and I. I feel as though these chapters have nothing to do with the basic theme of this book, which is centered on early African history and its contribution to civilization
Overall, I think that this is a very good book for young children or for adults who have an interest in learning about early African history.
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Neruda has been labeled in many ways, "poet of love", "politic poet", but he was beyond all this shallow aliases, he was a true poet in all the sense of the word.
This volume is a good (but not quite perfect) aproximation to the works of the poet if Isla Negra, it lacks some poems, so the selection could have been better, and also it has translation mistakes (like not translating "calle maruri" in "Maruri street". This book is an entrance to the poetry of Neruda, but not the definite word.
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In stark contrast, the latter half of the book contains Peake's best (I think) work of the entire trilogy, culminating in the hunt for Steerpike - which is superb. Definately a book of two halves, (bad cliche) but the reader is rewarded for their effort in the end.
This second volume continues to follow the adventures of the murderously ambitious Steerpike, the maturity and self-awareness of Titus Groan, with some colorful side-trips into a courtship, the revelation of a creature completely antithetical to all that Gormanghast stands for, and a natural disaster that heightens the intensity of the conclusion.
I would heartily recommend starting with Titus Groan (it seems the only available edition has all three volumes in one), and working through them in sequence. But make sure you avoid all the scholarly apparatus that follows Titus Alone until you've finished all three: there are a few spoilers there.
As for the comparisons to Tolkein, I'm afraid I don't see it: they as different as can be. This is not a hero's quest and where it does come down to good versus evil, it's more to do with survival: the world of Gormenghast is a world of murk and shadows, with no clear delineations or values. Titus Groan's self-awareness and the choices he makes are what drive the story. In The Lord of the Rings, there's a sense of destiny to the decisions and actions: Gormenghast is much more personal, with Steerpike's ambition, Sepulchrave's sense of duty, Flay's vigilance, Titus's maturity all helping to propel the action.
Now go read this monster.
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"It was admitted by all her friends, and also by her enemies--who were in truth the more numerous and active body of the two--that Lizzie Greystock had done very well with herself." The second sentence further clarifies Lizzie's character when it goes on with, "We will tell the story of Lizzie Greystock from the beginning, but we will not dwell over it at great length, as we might do if we loved her."
Lizzie Greystock--eventually to become Lady Eustace--is a fascinating combination of cunning and foolishness, of avarice and pitiable character, of steely backbone and whimpering fits. She reminds me so very much of both Emma Bovary and Scarlett O'Hara. Her determination to keep the Eustace family diamonds entirely for herself is what sets the novel in motion, and with this rather simple device, Trollope goes on to spin out a tale which encompasses morality, greed, Victorian social mores, the corrupting influence of money, and the blindness it can cause to everything else of value.
Lizzie is contrasted, with every shade under the sun, with the sweet and constant Lucy Morris. Picture the contrast as one very much like that of Scarlett O'Hara and Melanie Wilkes. "The Eustace Diamonds" is a deliciously satisfying book, and a classic for a very good reason: despite having been written in the 19th century, what it has to say reverberates as soundly now as when Trollope first published it. I can't recommend it highly enough.