When I began to read "The Turn Of The Screw" by Henry James, I made the assumption this book would be different from all other books which I have read. I thought it would be different because it is considered an American literature classic. Although Henry James is among many great authors, he is without a doubt, a one of a kind.
In this book his unique writing style has me wondering why such thoughts went through his mind. His wordy and elaborate writing style presented his strange subject matter in a style that could be accepted in his time. While it is sometimes difficult to follow the story it allowed James to express what would have been a controversial topic.
At times in this story you become anxious and excited, while at other times you are left picking and choosing what you think is going on, and when you least expect something to happen you become surprised, and become more interested in the book.
The ending surprised me. What I thought was going to be a happy ending turned into a perverse finale and a total tragedy. From beginning to end, Henry James wrote a book that is different from all other books.

I had been informed, before reading The Turn of the Screw, that it would not provide many answers to the questions it provoked. After finishing the novel, I would pass this along to future readers as well. The Turn of the Screw is an excellent story with wonderful details and an extremely creative plot. It is the first book I have ever read that has caused me to be frightened. Many times while reading the story late at night, I would find myself with my hand on my chest, holding my breath because I was so intrigued with the story line. Although it had a wonderful plot, Henry James does leave many questions unanswered. This allows the reader to interpret the events in whatever manner they choose. The complexity of the story depends on the complexity of the thought the reader puts into it. The Turn of the Screw is an excellent book and I would strongly recommend it to anyone. It is a clever novel for a clever reader.

I had long heard of Henry James and his short novella, The Turn of the Screw and decided to read it, thinking that at only 88 pages long, it would not take more than one evening. Three evenings later, I finished the text and I must admit slightly confused. I had to reread the ending several times to truly understand what had happened. Thankfully, I had the critical edition, which included several essays on the story, one in particular by Edmund White which profoundly changed my opinion of the story.
A simple ghost story on the face of it, but in reality a pre-Freudian tale of sexual repression. Narrated by an unnamed governess who ventures to a country house to take charge of two young orphaned children, it soon becomes a tale of ghosts, mysteries and secrets. Always alluded to and never talked about at face value, the governess becomes convinces that the ghosts are after the children and she alone can save them. But are there really ghosts? The reader must go beyond the plot and carefully read the language...all the language. James writes like no other author I have ever read. The best word to describe it is "dense". With almost no dialogue, the narrator can spend pages describing her thoughts and feelings, yet these are so "coded" as to decipher her real meaning takes much concentration on the part of the reader. I know that James himself thought the story an amusement only, but the critical essays I read after the book deeply impressed me that the story has hidden depths which make it all the more interesting.
I would recommend this novella to anyone with the patience to read it thoroughly and with an open mind as to its meaning. I would strongly recommend the critical edition which helps the reader better understand the story's meaning and importance in literature.

Admittedly, Begala is not the most objective person in the world, and that alone will probably keep many from reading this book. But that doesn't change the facts, which Begala has meticulously documented. He uses the words of Bush's own supporters, like Larry Lindsey. He cites studies done by objective third parties, such as The New York Times and The Dallas Morning News. He talks to people close to the issues he discusses who have worked with W, like Texas legislators. If you cut through all the "ask Karl Rove" jokes (which I really enjoyed), you'll see that Begala has gathered strong evidence against W.

For all his talk of Al Gore's character, it's clear that W is not exactly the exemplar of moral fortitude he claims he is. And I won't even mention his intellectual laziness or the fact that his success stems strictly from his family connections, both of which speak for themselves. The bottom line is that those who discount Begala's book simply because of who he is are just as partisan as he is, but even worse off because they blindly follow W without considering his record and what it shows about the kind of president he'll be. Thanks for lowering the bar for us all, W.

I would tell anyone who is even thinking of voting for George W. Bush
to run out and read this book cover to cover and then see if you
really want to vote for him!

Begala does an excellent job of
showing the real facts of what Bush has done as governor of Texas, a
record Bush claims he's proud of!? Hmm...more tax cuts for the
wealthy, yet he opposed health insurance for 200,000 more children and
a Patients' Bill of Rights. Bush claims some people choose to be
uninsured.

That's only the tip of the ice, Begala shows how
Gov. Bush made it legal to carry guns to church in Texas, put
voluntary pollution controls in place for big corporations (who are
also fudning his election), opposed a bill that would ban Texas from
executing the mentally retarded, and the list goes on and on. ....

... If more people had read this book and known all this stuff BEFORE the presidential election in November of 2000, Resident-Select Shrub would not be living in the White House today. I'm sure it is no warm consolation to Paul Begala to be able to say, "I told you so." Nevertheless, all is not in vain. What is in this book will come in real handy for the UPCOMING presidential election of 2004.

... About then presidential candidate, George W. Bush, Paul Begala writes, on page 40: "George W. Bush's economic plan is a return to the trickle-down days of the 1980s. He wants to cut taxes for the rich, gut the social safety net, turn more and more power over to giant corporations, and limit the rights of working people. ... You're reading this, and you're thinking: Didn't we try this before? And didn't all that trickle down result in a few rich folks and corporations getting the gold mine while the rest of us got the shaft? Didn't those Reagan-Bush economic policies run up the debt, cripple our competitiveness, and drive us into a recession?"

... About then vice-presidential candidate, Dick Cheney, he writes, on page 133: "And in case you ladies thought Dick was on your side, he also voted against the Equal Rights Amendment. Apparently full equality for women was an idea whose time had no yet come for Mr. Cheney. In his defense, Cheney says he opposed the ERA because he feared it would require that women be drafted. Hey, Dick: we haven't even drafted any men for twenty-five years. But at least he's consistent: Cheney was so opposed to the draft during the Vietnam War that he got several deferments. He never spent a day in uniform himself, but he was eager to ship my cousin Dennis (a Marine sniper) off to Kuwait to do Cheney's fighting for him."

... Ah, you've got to hand it to Paul Begala, he knows how to maintain his sense of humor in the heat of battle. Indeed, for battle it is - political battle - over the future direction of our country. Read this book ( as well as his newer IT'S STILL THE ECONOMY, STUPID ), and you will be very well informed about "the enemy" before going into battle. I will never forget what my friend, Danny ( a US Marine who fought at Kae San in Vietnam ), once said to me about his political enemies in union politics. He said: "I love my enemies. I really do. It's EASY to love your enemies and be a Christian. WHY? ... Because they're SO STUPID, they make you look good!" ... Danny was right - and Paul Begala is right. Read this book, love your enemies, and think victoriously about the future presidential election! ... YOWZA! - The Aeolian Kid

I realise my title might be seen a criminal to fans of the erstwhile Dirk Pitt, but I can't favor him over Kurt Austin, or vice versa. Cussler is a formulaic as ever but it works! From the opening taster with Austin's counterpart love of high speed boats to Dirk's of antique cars, Kurt sets off with his own Giordino (Zavala) to find out why whales are dying in super-heated water. They run up against Brynhild, Gogstad's Scandinavian corporate meglomaniac with a penchant for controlling the world's freshwater, a Viking fixation (the references to Valhalla throughout are a nice echo of the latest Dirk Pitt installment) and dubious taste in hirlings (the Kradzik brothers). Throw in the husband and wife NUMA team of Gamay and Paul with a sizable side trip of their adventures in Venezula rescuing the local white goddess, Professor Francesca Cabral, a trip into Mexico and all culminating in a battle at Lake Tahoe and you have a rip-roaring Cussler yarn.
Sure, some will still favor Pitt over Austin but Paul Kemprecos' addition to Cussler's skills have created no poor imitation at all. Hopefully Kurt and Joe's adventures will be as long as Pitt's. Valhalla told us Dirk Pitt was getting older. Kurt Austin is his younger counterpart.

By: Clive Cussler and Paul Kemprecos

Blue Gold is an exquisite book written by Clive Cussler and Co-Authored by Paul Kemprecos. This New York Times best selling series is 378 pages long with a captivating plot that can rival Michael Crichton or JRR Tolkien. Cussler is an amazing writer who always manages come up with colorful eco-terrorists, megalomaniacs with their ambitions primed for world domination, and a few regular old criminals thrown in for good measure.

In this new exciting adventure the National Underwater & Marine Agency's Special Project's Directors, Kurt Austin and Joe Zavala, nearly die during a powerboat race for a fundraising event when a pod of dead bloated whales float onto the course. An investigation into the death of the whale pod take them to a secret underwater facility disguised as a Tortilla factory. As one event leads to another the duo soon uncovers a diabolical plot to monopolize one the world's most important resources by a 7 foot Valkyrie.

Meanwhile in the dense jungles of the Venezuelan rain forest a mysterious tribe with the legend of a white goddess. Kurt and Joe have hunch that this so called "white goddess" might be the key to unraveling the plot to take over the world. Helped by a husband-wife NUMA team who've already made the goddess's acquaintance; Kurt and Joe must solve this mystery of suspense, blackmail, and murder.

Reading this book was like listening to one of Beethoven's symphonies, every event was detailed and prepared the way for the next conflict perfectly. Anyone who enjoys James Bond flicks or adores action/adventure will love this book. This is the perfect gift for the holidays.

Clive Cussler's knack for writing tales that seem beyond belief astounds me. In Blue Gold, he weaves such a fantastic tale that one wonders if it might possibly be true - were there trans-Atlantic ocean crossings that brought many different ethnicities together? How can one explain the different facial features in the rock carvings around the world, representing cultures that have never been found to exist in places like Mexico? Fantastic story, completely believable!

Cussler's new tag-team of agents smoothly take over where Dirk Pitts and Al Giordino leave off. In fact, in a humorous way, Cussler works Pitts & Giordino into the storyline throughout; Joe Zavala and Kurt Austin are strongly written characters with all the zeal and gusto that we have grown to love about Pitts & Giordino. This is not a tale about the new guard replacing the old at NUMA, but rather a fascinating new wrinkle that makes me hope that eventually Zavala and Austin will team up with Pitts & Giordino in some lavishly written novel that requires each man's special talents (more so than the brief involvement that Cussler has allowed Dirk and Al in Blue Gold).

I read this book way too quickly - and was disappointed that I had finished it so fast instead of savoring every page like a delicious dessert. I sincerely hope that soon Cussler will have the opportunity to see his works developed as motion pictures, as I thoroughly enjoy how his books play out in my imagination!

Peace Out.

Set in upstate New York in colonial times, Cooper here tells the tale of the stolid colonial scout Hawkeye, nee Natty Bumppo (don't ask), who, with his two Indian companions Chingachgook (the Big Snake) and his son Uncas (apparently newly come to manhood), stumble on a party of British soldiers conducting two fair maidens to their father, the commander of British Fort William Henry during the French and Indian War. Under the watchful eyes of the young British officer who has the girls in his charge and led by a Huron scout, Magua, the party appears, to the indomitable Hawkeye, to be at greater risk than they realize as they trek through the wilderness toward the safety of the girls' father's garrison. And, indeed, Hawkeye's judgement is soon proved right as the scout Magua treacherously betrays the hapless girls in repayment, it seems, for a stint of corporal punishment inflicted on him previously by their absent parent. Since the Hurons, Magua's native tribe, are culturally akin to the Iroquois who are the herditary enemies of the Algonquin Delawares, from whom Chingachgook and his son hail and among whom Hawkeye has made his home and friendships, a natural antagonism arises almost at once between Hawkeye's party and the Huron and this proves salutary, when danger finally strikes. The tale quickly becomes a matter of flight and pursuit through thickly overgrown primeval forests, over rough mountains and across broad open lakes as the beleagured travelers first elude and then flee the dreaded Iroquois (allies of the French) who have joined the renegade Huron in an effort to seize the two girls. After a brief respite within the safety of William Henry however, the tables are once again turned as Magua's perfidy puts the girls once more at risk. And now the story shifts to a manic pursuit of the fleeing Magua who means to carry off his human prey in order to finally have his revenge on the girls' father, on the British and on the Europeans, generally, whose presence in his native country he blames (not altogether unjustifiably) for his myriad travails. Written in the fine tradition of the 19th century romance (which, of course, is what this book is), Cooper picked up where Sir Walter Scott (the venerable founder of this novelistic tradition) left off, creating a rich historical tale of adventure, nobility and marvelously sketched characters set against a brilliantly detailed natural landscape. If his characters are less keenly drawn than Scott's they are no less memorable for, in the quiet nobility of the scout Hawkeye lies the strong, silent hero of the wilderness which has become the archetypical protagonist in our own American westerns. And the Indians, Chingachgook and Uncas, are the very prototypes of the noble savage, so much used, and over-used, today. This is a tale of action first and foremost without much plot but so well told that you barely notice, as our heroes flee and pursue their enemies in turn -- until the very quickness of the prose seems to mirror and embody the speed of the action. Nor is this book only to be read for its rapid-fire rendition of flight and pursuit, for it touches the reader on another level as well, as the bold young Uncas moves out ahead of his comrades to place himself at risk for the others and the woman he loves. Although we never see Uncas at anything but a distance and never get to know the man he is supposed to be, he is yet a symbol of that people of whom he is the last chiefly descendant, the Delaware Mohicans. Nobly born into the finest of Mohican bloodlines, Uncas faces his final trial with heroic energy and resolve in order to defeat the nefarious and twisted Magua. Yet this struggle is also the final footnote in the story of a people, marking the closing chapter for all those Indians who, with the Mohicans, have, in Cooper's own words, seen the morning of their nation and the inevitable nightfall which must follow. If you give this book a chance and bear with some of the heavy nineteenth century prose, it will prove out in the end. An exciting and worthwhile read.

Set in upstate New York in colonial times, Cooper here tells the story of the stolid colonial scout Hawkeye, nee Natty Bumppo (don't ask), who, with his two Indian companions Chingachgook (the Big Snake) and his son Uncas (apparently newly come to manhood), stumble on a party of British soldiers conducting two fair maidens to their father, the commander of British Fort William Henry during the French and Indian War. Under the watchful eyes of the young British officer who has the girls in his charge and led by a Huron scout, Magua, the party appears, to the indomitable Hawkeye, to be at greater risk than they realize as they trek through the wilderness toward the safety of the girls' father's garrison. And, indeed, Hawkeye's judgement is soon proved right as the scout Magua treacherously betrays the hapless girls in repayment, it seems, for a stint of corporal punishment inflicted on him previously by their absent parent. Since the Hurons, Magua's native tribe, are culturally akin to the Iroquois who are the herditary enemies of the Algonquin Delawares, from whom Chingachgook and his son hail and among whom Hawkeye has made his home and friendships, a natural antagonism has arisen almost at once between Hawkeye's party and the Huron and this proves salutary, when danger finally strikes. The tale quickly becomes a matter of flight and pursuit through thickly overgrown primeval forests, over rough mountains and across broad open lakes as the beleagured travelers first elude and then flee the dreaded Iroquois (allies of the French) who have joined the renegade Huron in an effort to seize the two girls. After a brief respite within the safety of William Henry however, the tables are once again turned as Magua's perfidy puts the girls once more at risk. And now the story shifts to a manic pursuit of the fleeing Magua who means to carry off his human prey in order to finally have his revenge on the girls' father, on the British and on the Europeans, generally, whose presence in his native country he blames (not altogether unjustifiably) for his myriad travails. Written in the fine tradition of the 19th century romance (which, of course, is what this book is), Cooper picked up where Sir Walter Scott (the venerable founder of this particular novelistic tradition) left off, creating a rich historical tale of adventure, nobility and marvelously sketched characters set against a brilliantly detailed natural landscape. If his characters are less keenly drawn than Scott's they are no less memorable for, in the quiet nobility of the scout Hawkeye lies the strong, silent hero of the wilderness which was to become the archetypical protagonist of the American western. And the Indians, Chingachgook and Uncas, are the very prototypes of the noble savage, so much used and over-used today. This is a tale of action first and foremost without much plot but so well told that you barely notice, as our heroes flee and pursue their enemies in turn until the very quickness of the prose seems to mirror and embody the speed of the action. Nor is this book only to be read for its rapid-fire rendition of flight and pursuit, for it touches the reader on another level as well, as the bold young Uncas moves out ahead of his comrades to place himself at risk for the others and the woman he loves. Although we never see Uncas at anything but a distance and never get to know the man he is supposed to be, he is yet a symbol of that people of whom he is the last chiefly descendant, the Delaware Mohicans. Nobly born into the finest of Mohican bloodlines, Uncas faces his final trial with heroic energy and resolve in order to defeat the nefarious and twisted Magua. Yet this struggle is also the final footnote in the story of a people, marking the closing chapter for all those Indians who, with the Mohicans, have seen, in Cooper's words, the morning of their nation and the inevitable nightfall which must follow. The book is a bit short on characterization and plotting and the prose is heavy for modern tastes, but the action is richly visualized in the flow of the narrative and the images are compelling. In the end, despite its flaws, this book of Cooper's is, in fact, the classic we have been told it is. -- S. W. Mirsky

Set in upstate New York in colonial times, Cooper here tells the story of the stolid colonial scout Hawkeye, nee Natty Bumppo (don't ask), who, with his two Indian companions Chingachgook (the Big Snake) and his son Uncas (apparently newly come to manhood), stumble on a party of British soldiers conducting two fair maidens to their father, the commander of British Fort William Henry during the French and Indian War. Under the watchful eyes of the young British officer who has the girls in his charge and led by a Huron scout, Magua, the party appears, to the indomitable Hawkeye, to be at greater risk than they realize as they trek through the wilderness toward the safety of the girls' father's garrison. And, indeed, Hawkeye's judgement is soon proved right as the scout Magua treacherously betrays the hapless girls in repayment, it seems, for a stint of corporal punishment inflicted on him previously by their absent parent. Since the Hurons, Magua's native tribe, are culturally akin to the Iroquois who are the herditary enemies of the Algonquin Delawares, from whom Chingachgook and his son hail and among whom Hawkeye has made his home and friendships, a natural antagonism has arisen almost at once between Hawkeye's party and the Huron and this proves salutary, when danger finally strikes. The tale quickly becomes a matter of flight and pursuit through thickly overgrown primeval forests, over rough mountains and across broad open lakes as the beleagured travelers first elude and then flee the dreaded Iroquois (allies of the French) who have joined the renegade Huron in an effort to seize the two girls. After a brief respite within the safety of William Henry however, the tables are once again turned as Magua's perfidy puts the girls once more at risk. And now the story shifts to a manic pursuit of the fleeing Magua who means to carry off his human prey in order to finally have his revenge on the girls' father, on the British and on the Europeans, generally, whose presence in his native country he blames (not altogether unjustifiably) for his myriad travails. Written in the fine tradition of the 19th century romance (which, of course, is what this book is), Cooper picked up where Sir Walter Scott (the venerable founder of this novelistic tradition) left off, creating a rich historical tale of adventure, nobility and marvelously sketched characters set against a brilliantly detailed natural landscape. If his characters are less keenly drawn than Scott's they are no less memorable for, in the quiet nobility of the scout Hawkeye lies the strong, silent hero of the wilderness which has become the archetypical protagonist in our own American westerns. And the Indians, Chingachgook and Uncas, are the very prototypes of the noble savage, so much used and over-used today. This is a tale of action first and foremost without much plot but so well told that you barely notice, as our heroes flee and pursue their enemies in turn until the very quickness of the prose seems to mirror and embody the speed of the action. Nor is this book only to be read for its rapid-fire rendition of flight and pursuit, for it touches the reader on another level as well, as the bold young Uncas moves out ahead of his comrades to place himself at risk for the others and the woman he loves. Although we never see Uncas at anything but a distance and never get to know the man he is supposed to be, he is yet a symbol of that people of whom he is the last chiefly descendant, the Delaware Mohicans. Nobly born into the finest of Mohican bloodlines, Uncas faces his final trial with heroic energy and resolve in order to defeat the nefarious and twisted Magua. Yet this struggle is also the final footnote in the story of a people, marking the closing chapter for all those Indians who, with the Mohicans, have seen, in Cooper's own words, the morning of their nation and the inevitable nightfall which must follow. -- Stuart W. Mirsky (mirsky@ix.netcom.com

I enjoy Michael Crichton's novels, but I know just what I'll get; a great, original plot with 2 dimensional characters designed to push the story along. Fine, it will still be an original story and that is enough.

Ludlum, in the Sigma Protocol, has characters of single dimension push along a one-dimensional plot. Worse, you've read it before in every single Ludlum novel you've ever read. I was about 150 pages into this book when I remembered why I stopped reading Ludlum years ago; every book is the same, every book has the same flaws. This is the best-selling worst writer out there. I am always surprised by the depths of the bad writing. It is definitely not to a professional level, and if he were just starting out now, no one would publish him. I would like to see how much the final draft was fixed up in the editing process.

Here are a few examples that come to mind:

If the characters overhear a newscast or see a newspaper, it will be pertinent to the plot, and in the next few pages. Nothing happens simply to give you a feel for the characters or to flesh out the atmosphere. This is irritating in a thriller novel because if it's there you know it will be used. There are no false clues or even slight attempts to throw you off the trail.
The dialog is interchangeable; there is no difference in style, tone or however it is that real writers do it so you know that a particular comment is from the female good-guy, or the male bad-guy. Any of them can say anyone's lines and that story won't change. I think Ludlum would change who was speaking simply because a certain numbers of lines had passed, to make it appear as a conversation were taking place. Instead, he writes what could be monologues and attributes them to random characters.
Ben and Anna, (the good guys) never take a false step, never get into a corner, never are without a highly skilled expert to call, never call and find that expert not able to pick up the phone. They are on the run and never have a problem paying for hotels, international airline tickets, food, and clothes. This plot only would work if Ben were super rich, expertly trained and a superb physical specimen. What??!?! He is?? Then let's write this ...!!!

I was a quarter of the way invested into the book when I realized that Ludlum was still as bad as he ever was, but I figured I'd see it through to the end. It is bad to the point it becomes funny. If you read it, count how many people Ben and Anna meet to get crucial plot advancing info, only to have them die violent assassinations mere moments after they leave. You'd think that after 2, 3 or at least 5 times they'd say, hey, someone may be following us, let's at least check to be sure the next guy we visit has his life insurance paid up before we lead the assassins to them.

I finished the story wondering why Ludlum wrote this. Did he need the money that badly? A contractual obligation? Maybe this was a test to see how gullible the reading public can be. I sure was.

This is the first book I've read by Robert Ludlum. And from the likes of it, I'd be encouraged to read more (there's always The Bourne Identity which comes out in theaters next summer to start with). The author's technique of covering multiple story threads occuring at the same time was well used. You could picture the scenes to a mental movie quite vividly. He doesn't give the protagonist in the story unbelievable traits. In fact, he makes the male protagonist (Ben Hartmann) downright sensitive with her interactions with the female protagonist (Anna Navarro). There were lots of twists and turns in this story, until the last few chapters. What seemed really suspenseful at the beginning, quickly degenerated into preachiness in the last few pages as the author explains the logical reasoning behind the sinister plot to preserve the world's leading industrial/political icons. The story is mainly set in Europe around Switzerland. I like the fact that the author describes his surroundings and interactions with people in these countries in their native vocabulary (usually in italics), then explains them again in English for the benefit of the reader. I'd like to think I learned a thing or two about those countries he mentioned.

All in all, it was a fascinating read. Pick up a copy today!

This is the vintage Ludlum. Ben Hartman,an American investment banker has replaced his late brother in the firm. While in Zurich
an old college friend tries to kill Hartman killing several
innocent bystanders. This sets off a wild chain of events.Enter
Anna Navarro a field agent for the Department of Justice who is
investigating the deaths of several old men.They come into possession of an old secret file that links everything into an
organization called Sigma.Ben and Anna are being stalked by a hired assassin who is very good at what he does. The books spirals into a colossul conspiracy. This book will keep you on the edge of your seat.A very good book to read. You will enjoy it.

Martini was wise to go back to his "bread and butter" protagonist, Paul Madriani. I always enjoyed this character and I was dismayed at such books as Martini's "Critical Mass," in which Martini discarded both Madriani and the legal thriller genre. Much of "The Attorney" is exciting and compelling. Paul Madriani, the hero of the title, tries to help Jonah Hale, an older man who has made a great deal of money in a lottery. Hale's granddaughter is missing, along with her drug-addicted mother. Along the way, Madriani encounters complications relating to his lover, Susan, who works with abused children, and Paul is nearly killed by a Mexican drug lord. Eventually, a key characters is murdered and Paul is the defendant's attorney at trial. As always, Martini is very good at writing courtroom sequences. As compelling as some of these courtroom scenes are, the book drags on for over 400 pages. The most problematic element of the book, however, is the tacked-on ending. Martini loves surprise endings. He delivers the surprise at the very end of the book and it simply does not hold water. There are plot holes at the end that are enormous and the author never plugs up the holes. I still enjoyed much of the book, but Martini should be more careful in making the plot more coherent. Surprise endings work only when they make sense.

Steve Martini returns with a vengeance in his latest legal thriller featuring Paul Madriani. Set in San Diego, Madriani takes on the case of a former client, Jonah Hale. Because Jonah's daughter, Jessica, has a long history of drug addiction, Jonah and his wife, Mary, have custody of their 8 year old granddaughter, Mandy. After Jonah wins the $87 million state lottery, Jessica returns to their life demanding her daughter back with a megabucks payoff. When Jonah will not comply, Jessica gets down and dirty. Associating with Zolanda Suade, a zealous feminist activist whose agency "Vanishing Victims" makes children and their mothers disappear, the case turns deadly. As you can guess, Jonah is the one put on trial and thru all of the twists and turns of this book, you will easily be sucked into the story as it reaches its conclusion all too soon.

Steve Martini has finally returned to his Paul Madriani series and not a moment too soon. Paul, and his law partner, Harry Hinds, are two of the most endearing characters in any legal thriller. While "The Attorney" does not measure up to previous Martini books like "Undue Influence", it is still a worthwhile read.

Paul and his daughter move to southern California to be closer to Paul's new girlfriend, and Harry follows to set up a new practice there. Paul is soon retained by Jonah Hale to help find Jonah's granddaughter who was snatched from his custody by Jonah's daughter. What seems to be a clear-cut, if not easily resolved case soon escalates to murder and Paul decides to represent Jonah in court.

There are excellent descriptions of Paul's southern California locale, right down to certain street names. This tediousness detracts from the action somewhat. But like some of the other reviews noted, the killer is quite obvious less than halfway through the book. It is a mystery (excuse the pun) why a writer as skilled as Martini would give a clue as to the killer's identity that all but reaches out and slaps the reader across the face. This aside, "The Attorney" is tightly paced thriller that is suspenseful despite knowing who the killer is early on in the book. Martini is a writer that is among the ranks of Scott Turow and Richard North Patterson, and it is good to finally see him returning to the legal thriller genre where he writes best.

We have yet to try Martini's acclaimed defense attorney Paul Madriani series; like his first book, The Simeon Chamber, this one is a thriller with the lead character a lawyer, but little or no lawyering goes on. Instead, a prologue sets the stage for the danger-laced tale of Abby Chandlis, a published but obscure part-time author/lawyer, who somehow writes what she knows might be a best seller. Most of the book is about her earning millions for her "first" novel and related movie rights and sequel intentions, all confused because she hires a "beefcake"-type guy to pose as the winning author under the {awful} pseudonym of Grable Cooper. Her stand-in, Jack Jermaine, wows and charms all, including Abby; yet Abby's long-time friend and personal attorney, Morgan Spencer, who is handling the copyrights and stand-in contracts, is concerned enough to spend most of the book digging up dirt on Jermaine. Added to this complex tale are the murders of Abby's girl-friend ostensibly by her half-crazy abusive husband; then his murder by persons unknown; then Abby's ex-husband, probably by Jermaine. By the end of the book, the pace is hectic, our brains are swimming with clues, and Abby dodges death several times over, leading to a very neat ending that we suspect will catch most readers quite by surprise.

Our only gripe is that this story is a bit like an Indy 500 run mostly under a yellow flag. It's slow to accelerate and toddles along in low gear for 2/3 the tale. The book publishing information was somewhat interesting but didn't really add to the pace of the mystery. Judging by the fact that it took us two weeks to finish what would normally take a couple of afternoons, just be ready for a watched pot that takes an awfully long time to come to a boil. We suspect Martini's fan club is right in "Listing" this one lower than most.

The List, by Steve Martini is a very exciting and thrilling book. It has murders and mysteries, and also goes into a detail on other subjects. For instance, the main idea is that an unkown author writes a book that has the potential to become a best seller. The author, being older, thought it would be better to write the book under a pen name. She tells only her closest friends, but when one of them is murdered she begins to worry. She now has to trust the man that she thinks killed her friend. This book is very good, with an ending to die for; I never would have guessed what had happened. I would suggest this book to many people, because it was a great read.

This is the first Steve Martini book I've ever read. Are all his books this good? I found myself intrigued by the storyline. Abby Chandlis is sick of her job, has been writing a book in her spare time, and decides to try her luck in getting it published. In a twisted and sorted way, she decides to hire a man to pose as the "writer" while she plays his lawyer. In walks Jack Jermaine. In the many twists and turns throughout the story, I found alot of mystery, humor, and yes! even romance, but not too much. This story was exhilorating, to say the least. If you're ready to try your hand at "whodunnit" and to go deep inside the literary world, hold on tight to your copy of "The List" and enjoy the ride! Three cheers for Martini on this well-written and highly entertaining book.

'Hades Factor' is the first Ludlum book I have read in a very long time. I greatly enjoyed his early books but stopped reading the late Mr Ludlum's novels after his stories became too incredulous to believe. 'Hades Factor' has many of the fine characteristics of an early Ludlum but seems to have been hastily written. After I was half way through the book, I had to look back to find where the story lost me as a reader; where I started to back away from the story and no longer believed any of the characters. It was around page 70.
Sophia, Jon Smith's love of his life, dies in his arms after being injected with a virus, and in his grief, Jon ... performs an autopsy on his beloved, removes tissue samples and travels the next day to California? Huh? Wait a minute. From this incredibly unbelievable response to death onward, I read this novel from a critical distance, noting the inconsistancies in plot and lack of logic of character motivations. Yet still, I recommend this book for a quick read. Not a great Ludlum, not even a very good one, but some of the good stuff that made a Ludlum novel so appealing still manages to peek through every now and then.

Three people in different parts of the U.S. die suddenly and dramatically of a bizarre, unknown virus. What connection could there be between them? And how can this virus be stopped before it claims more victims?

That's the set-up for this collaboration between thriller-meister Robert Ludlum and relative newcomer Gayle Lynds. This is something new for Ludlum, a series written in conjunction with other authors (ala Tom Clancy's Op-Center books). This is to be the first in a series of adventure-thrillers about a government action squad called "Covert One." I'm withholding judgment on the concept until more books come out, but for now I'm cautiously optimistic.

The story is solid, although familiar. It's obviously reminiscent of Richard Preston's "The Hot Zone," along with dozens of thrillers. That's not to say it's bad, though. I enjoyed the swiftly-moving plot, and found the characters to be interesting. The protagonist is Lt. Col. Jon Smith, a medical doctor, expert on killer viruses, and all-around man-of-action. He's a fairly typical lead character for a book of this sort. Smith is interesting enough, though, and smarter than the norm, which was a nice change.

Even better was the character of Smith's sidekick, Martin Zellerbach, a computer genius with a rare form of autism. I hope he returns in subsequent books because I found him fascinating.

This reads like Ludlum-lite, featuring his brand of paranoid action and suspense, but without the depth of plotting and sophistication that characterizes his best work. It's noticeably different from the rest of his output, although maybe that's a plus given the quality of his last few books.

"The Hades Factor" is recommended for thriller lovers and anyone looking for an exciting summer read.

I am a Ludlum fan (read them all) who loves a good story...not one of those fans who thinks they are a book critic and nitpicks every phrase or fact. If you like a good suspense/espionage story with solid characters that is hard to put down then you will enjoy this book. Lt. Col Robert Smith, MD. is a strong lead character and Marty Zellerbach is an extremely interesting supporting character. Watching Marty battle his Asperger's Syndrome (type of autism) really adds an interesting wrinkle to the story. I highly recommend this book to anyone who wishes to read a good story that is hard to put down..I read it in three days! I look forward to the second book in the series and to reading co-author Gayle Lynds other works.

I think Christopher Hitchens was half-justified in his attackagainst Johnson for trying to link the work and ideologies of the said 'Intellectuals' with their private misdeeds. But Johnson does the occasional decent job of exposing the hypocrisy of these producers of moral swarf. For instance, he points out that Sartre never so much as lifted a finger or even spoke out against the anti-Semitic atrocities that were occuring in Germany under Hitler's facist regime. Yet Jean-Paul Sartre later in life was one to frequently mention and write about the crass vulgarities of anti-Semitism.

And then there are other times when Johnson's method of trying to prove that his subject's moral high ground is below sea level doesn't work. His chapter on a mendacious Ernest Hemingway does nothing to erase the fact the he was probably the best American writer next to F. Scott Fitgerald to encapsulate post-WW1 sentiment, with a brilliant ideosyncratic prose style. Because Hemingway wasn't ... like Sartre, Johnson's chapter on Hemingway won't alter his place in literary history.

Johnson saves his weakest attack at the very end of the book for MIT linguist Noam Chomsky. Because Chomsky is 'an old-style utopian, rather than a new-style hedonist intellectual', Johnson refrains from making ad hominem personal attacks on him. Instead, Johnson offers a brief biography followed by a tepid elenchus of Chomsky's position on Vietnam. Johnson claims that Chomsky was opposed to the war in Vietnam by virtue of his linguistic theories on syntax. That isn't true at all. Apparently, Johnson hadn't read the book Chomsky wrote in '69 outlining his opposition to Vietnam: 'The New Mandarins'. Johnson, however, correctly decribes the bizarre wayward opinions Chomsky took in the late 70's on the massacres the Khymer Rouge committed in Cambodia, before eventually concluding that 'the American Devil made them do it'.

A facinating look into the lives of the thinkers that have shaped our thought in the last 200 year, even though some of the arguments are meaningless.

From Karl Marx to Tolstoy to Bertrand Russell to Jean-Paul Sarte to Hemmingway, Paul Johnson demonstrates the folly of many leading intellectuals. The proof is in the pudding, and reasonable philosophies come from reasonable people. The problem is amplified because modern society has been absorbing these approaches to life and society that failed the very authors who espoused them.

The old saying bears true of many leading intellectuals: "He is so smart, he is stupid." So many of our leading intellectuals lived anything but functional lives, and their philosophies exist to multiply their own person dysfunctionality. It is about time someone with intellectual sense exposed these men and women for the confused but brilliant people they were. Like Joe Friday on Dragnet, it's about time their own personal lives were reviewed with, "Just the facts, mam."

Unlike many modern intellectuals, Johnson is one of the few who is capable of seeing the big picture. Philosophy is about life.
If the philosophers themselves lived tortured lives, perhaps it is time we stopped blindly accepting their decreed wisdom.

Those who espouse Judeo-Christian ethics will eat this book up; those who prefer ANYTHING but Judeo-Christian ethics will despise this work. Despite the fact that the author freely interprets, the facts are brutally clear.

This book is an entertaining and scathing attack on a group of popular left-leaning intellectuals who are often trotted out by some liberals again and again as symbols of the highest in human thought and deed (Rousseau, Marx, Russell etc.). Johnson pays them their due: Hemingway IS a great writer; Ibsen IS a great playwright, etc. However, Johnson cautions that talent (especially the ability write well, as many of those he profiles are authors) should not be equated with moral, spiritual, or even intellectual superiority. His point is simply that these people, though they could articulate their ideas well, often lived miserable lives, mistreated others, and/or ignored their own philosophies. Admittedly, these acts of hypocrisy are hardly confined to those philosophers and artists on the left, but it is the intellectuals described in this book that are the ones who are so often used to refute conservatives, especially when those on the right are being accused of being narrow minded, heartless, and moralistic. How many Christians have been told by their non- (or better anti-) religious friends to read Russell's "Why I Am Not a Christian" or told that, as attributed to Marx, "Religion is the opiate of the Masses", when the discussion turns to matters of faith? Johnson demonstrates that these liberal intellectuals and/or their followers were (and are), for all intents and purposes, doing what moral conservatives are often accused of doing, trying to change the world by imposing, through their exalted position as intellectual elites, their morality and philosophies on others. (Marxism and humanism are two notable examples.) Ultimately, Johnson asserts that these people were no more or less qualified than any other sensible, intelligent person to tell people how to live their lives (maybe even less so because they were often out of touch with the lives of ordinary people).Of course, the same could be said of intellectuals on the right, but, as Johnson tends to be conservative, it's the liberal elite who gets skewered. It's about time!

Very slow and far too long book based on a few crucial experiments or diseases: the color-phi-phenomenon of Koler, the experiments of Libet and Multiple Personality Disorder.

Half of the book is spent to reject the Cartesian model of an exact location of consciousness in the brain and to replace it by a multiple version model.
The other part is an explanation of consciousness in terms of a self-developing computer programme that organizes the brain's activity.
Language plays, for the author, a great part in the structuring of the human mind.

Roger Penrose (The Emperor's New Mind) from a physical point of view and Gerald Edelman (Bright Air, Brilliant Fire) from a biological point of view proved for me convincingly that the brain is not a computer and that its action cannot be compared with a computer programme. Trying to explain the working of the brain or of consciousness in this way is for me a dead end.

On the other hand, it is possible that language structures the mind, but before that, the mind had to permit the coming into existence of language (the mind was there before language). There is a reciprocal adaptation.
The all importance of language foreces the author to state that without natural language the mind of the deaf-and-thumb is terribly limited. This is not true, for they can learn to speak with their hands.

I agree with the author's definition of the (biological) self and also with his statement that the brain was in the first place developed to do other activities (to choose between fight or flee...) than read and write.

Although I still learned a lot by reading this book, I cannot recommend it.

N.B. 'L'acte gratuit' is an element of the philosophy of Bergson, not of Sartre or Gide. On the contrary, Gide ridicules it in 'Les Caves du Vatican', where a commuter pushes another commuter out of a running train as an ... 'acte gratuit'.

Mr. Daniel C. Dennett is also author of Brainstorms and coauthor of The Mind's I. George Johnson, New York Times Book Review stated that this book was "Brilliant . . as audacious as its title . . ." and I could not agree more. This text is well written and put together in such a manner that the concepts are accessible even to those of us who are not scientists by training. Yet, the change in the model of the brain presented here is very difficult for me to grasp. I like the concept of thinking about a massively parallel processor as the model for how the brain does what it does, but translating that into a new concept of no one central place where "consciousness takes place," is very difficult indeed. Like many, my view of human consciousness was that there was a central place, an observer that kept me neatly in time and space. Not so, says Dennett.

"Each normal individual of this species [homo sapiens]," says Mr. Dennett, "makes a self. Out of its brain it spins a web of words and deeds, and, like the other creatures, it doesn't have to know what it is doing; it just does it. This web protects it, just like the snail' shell, and provides it a livelihood, just like the spider's web, and advances its prospects for sex, just like the bowerbird's bower." He goes on to point out that this web of discourse and deeds is as much a biological product as any of the other constructions to be found in the animal world.

Mr. Dennett goes on to explain that this complex set of cultural transmissions (memes) such as tunes, ideas, catch-phrases, clothes fashions, etc. can best be understood as the operation of a "von Neumannesque" virtual machine implemented in the parallel architecture of a brain that was not designed for any such activities. In other words, we have learned to use our brains for new functions as we evolved. And, as we spin this web of discourse, we create for ourselves a sense of time-space and orient ourselves in that time-space in such a way as to disconnect ourselves from "creation" and give ourselves and others a sense of "individual."

The book concludes with appendices that direct themselves to specialized language and explanations for Philosophers and Scientists. All in all, a very difficult but rewarding read. I found this book challenging to say the least, and yet I highly recommended it to those interested in how the evolution of human consciousness.

I believe it was Thomas Wolfe who once remarked with pride that he was a generous literary putter-inner, while minimalists like Ernest Hemingway were stingy leaver-outers. No one who finishes "Consciousness Explained" will doubt that Dennett belongs among the putter-inners. For example, on reaching page 280 the reader is casually told, "I have been coy about consciousness up to now." If only we had known, Daniel, that you've been toying with us through half the book...

Dennett does make a coherent case, but the theme is buried in so many asides and diversions that one needs a conceptual GPS to stay oriented. Since he has the whole map in his head, the author naturally tends to forget that others on the tour bus may have lost their bearings two or three turns ago. On the plus side, Dennett's pleasantly conversational tone, clever analogies and colorful terminology (Stalinesque, Multiple Drafts, Witness Protection Program) help to sustain our interest and clarify difficult concepts.

The big picture (I think) is that investigations of consciousness have traditionally been hindered by reliance on the concept of a "Cartesian Theater" in the mind where a homunculus (the audience) makes conscious observations. As long as the nature of the theater and the homunculus remain elusive, the whole approach merely begs the questions of what consciousness is and how it happens. Dennett proposes that neither the theater nor the audience exists (i.e. the analogies are empty) and that a massively parallel process he calls Multiple Drafts is more descriptive of what happens in a conscious brain. The thrust of his argument is that understanding consciousness requires no ultimate appeal to mind/brain dualities, souls, spirits, quantum weirdness or other trappings of the "it can't be straightforward" school. This has led disappointed devotees of the ineffable to make dismissive remarks like "Dennett explains everything under the sun EXCEPT consciousness." Don't believe it.

Dennett's background in philosophy serves him well in addressing the subtleties of cognition, but the resulting terminology may wear a bit on the reader. Sometimes I thought that if I saw the 22-letter monster "heterophenomenological" one more time, I would scream. On the other hand, Dennett's tale of the imaginary deity Feenoman, based on the root of this word, manages to be both hilarious and instructive. The book is an excellent choice for those who are not merely inclined, but also steadfastly determined, to learn more about the machinery of consciousness.