This book has been on my nightstand for over a year. Every evening, I read just a morsel of Colette's beautiful prose and savor it slowly, like a decadent piece of chocolate. Since this is an "un-biography" (because it was taken from her life's works and letters to personal friends), it doesn't have that pompous, omnipotent, movie-of-the-week quality of many celebrity biographies. And yet it paints a joyous, colorful, honest, lustful and mysterious life (was she or wasn't she bisexual?) lived very simply. I'm constantly amazed at how Colette can talk about something as elemental as her cats or her garden in such a tender, sensual way.

This is a rewarding treat for those who already adore Colette's work. And for those who are unfamiliar with her, it's a simple and elegant introduction! If you've only read Gigi, or The Vagabond, you'll find the woman who wrote them even more intriguing than her stories.

The Pure and the Impure by Sidonie-Gabrielle Colette with introduction by Judith Thurman (Literature/Gay Studies). Recommended.

Colette believed The Pure and the Impure was her best work. I can't judge, not having read anything of hers but a few short stories, but this collection of her observations about human attitudes toward relationships and sexuality is insightful and timeless. It is also difficult and obscure at times, perhaps because of the translation and because there is no real structure to such a collection.

Thanks to her milieu, her position in it, and her willingness to seek the story, Colette could draw upon the most interesting people of her time-the givers and the takers. From the older woman who publicly fakes an orgasm while self-pleasuring in an opium house to gladden the heart of her young, sickly lover to the roué who exclaims of women, "They allow us to be their master in the sex act, but never their equal. That is what I cannot forgive them" to the circle of prominent women who learn the ways of sex from servants, dress as men, and love horses (she calls the most notable of these women "La Chevalière) to the "happy," alcoholic, lesbian poet Renée Vivien to the gay men with whom she seems most comfortable, Colette covers a spectrum of sexuality and combinations-including those men and women who play their heterosexual and homosexual relations against one another.

"I'm devoted to that boy, with all my heart," the older woman tells Colette, a stranger to her. "But what is the heart, madame? It's worth less than people think. It's quite accommodating. It accepts anything. You give it whatever you have, it's not very particular. But the body . . . Ha! That's something else, again." Thurman believes this sums up Colette's view precisely, the heart as a slave to the body.

Although Colette apparently wanted to remain an impartial observer, she cannot mask her own feelings and biases. One senses that she could not quite see a woman-woman partnership as "whole," as passionate, as capable of being the source of tragedy in the same way as other types of relationships. (Anaïs Nin will also hint at something similar in her diaries, at the "incompleteness" of female/female love.) "What woman would not blush to seek out her amie only for sensual pleasure? In no way is it passion that fosters the devotion of two women, but rather a feeling of kinship." She is fascinated by the story of Lady Eleanor Butler and Miss Sarah Ponsonby, the "Ladies of Llangollen," who elope and spend several decades living together. During this time, Butler will keep an extensive journal about her life with "My Beloved," while, to Colette's consternation and fascination, Ponsonby remains a silent partner. Colette so romanticizes the Ladies that she says they run off together as "young girls," when in fact Butler was 39 and Ponsonby in her 20s. While there is all kind of detail about their living arrangements, from gardening, sewing, hosting an array of distinguished visitors, and sharing a bedroom and bed, there is nothing known of their emotional or sexual intimacies other than their obvious devotion to one another. They remain a happy, content enigma to Colette and to the present day.

The book concludes on a more personal note-about jealousy, "the only suffering that we endure without ever becoming used to it." She maintains that "a man never belongs to us" and hints at the unique and not unfriendly relationship two female rivals may have-even rivals who wish to kill one another. When one rival tells Colette all the things that had prevented her from killing Colette in Rambouillet (missed train, stalled car, etc.), Colette says, "I was not in Rambouillet." The relationship between her and her rival becomes more interesting, more revealing, more important, and more affectionate than with the man over whom they duel.

Colette suffered what many turn-of-the-century female intellectuals must have-a society's fear of "masculine" women who are too intelligent, too outspoken, too knowing. When she offers to travel with the roué (apparently as a friend), he says in seriousness, "I only like to travel with women," which, a moment later, is softened by, "You, a woman? Why, try as you will . . ." Even today, there are women who have experienced this.

"This is a sad book," Colette said. "It doesn't warm itself at the fire of love, because the flesh doesn't cheer up its ardent servants." Thurman adds, "This great ode to emptiness was written by a woman who felt full."

The Pure and the Impure is a must read for anyone who enjoys Colette's other writings; it is the most autobiographical of her works. Recommended.

Diane L. Schirf, 1 January 2002.

Colette, perhaps best known to Americans as the author of "Gigi" (1945) was a prolific French novelist, critic, playwright, and performer. She also wrote the four "Claudine" novels (1900-1903), and became celebrated for "Cheri" (1920; followed by "The Last of Cheri" in 1926).

She regarded "The Pure and the Impure" as her best work; a mostly autobiographical treatise on Eros and love, particularly Sapphic love. She mixes a reporter's objectivity with deeply felt analysis psychological and philosophical observations. Sometimes she takes a dispassionate, almost distant look at passion; other times her emotional attachments to her subjects--primarily lesbian aristocrats and artistes--are candidly exposed.

She is an exquisite writer without being precious. Colette bends words and phrases perfectly, and one is struck by her vivid yet subtle prose, as evocative as Woolf but perhaps even more sensual. "The Pure and the Impure" contains memorable passages of keen observation and wit, and one feels drawn to her observations:

"...I delighted in the...empty gaiety of the chatter and the diverting and challenging exchange of glances, the cryptic reference to certain treasons, comprehended at once, and the sudden outbursts of ferocity. I reveled...in their half-spoken language, the exchange of threats, of promises, as if, once the slow-thinking male had been banished, every message from woman to woman became clear and overwhelming, restricted to a small but infallible number of signs..."

This is not to deny, however, that reading the book is sometimes difficult. Whether due to the translation, the era, or Colette's particular style, her writing can be challenging, particularly her last chapter, a very subjective, personal description of jealousy.

This is a beautifully written book about the erotic, about men and women, and about the natural history of love. I urge you to introduce yourself to her writings. Highly recommended.

do not buy this book i was forced to read it for school it is soo boring. please take my advice do not waste your money , if you want to read a good book read A rasin in the sun, by lorainne hansberry it rules!

This book is a short version of The Conquest of New Spain. In the Brief account, de las Casas explains the violence and injustice in which the natives were being treated by the spanish conquistadores. De las Casas writes this account to show the king in Spain the way the army was trating the indians. It also shows the courage of the clergy to protect the rights of the oppressed. De las Casas became the first bishop of Chiapas, the same area in conflict today in southern Mexico where the Church keeps fighting for justice for the poor.

Bartolome was a priest in the new world and the book in an attempt to show the abuses that the Spaniards committed against the indians and the damages done in the name of Gad and the King. This book is a historiography, but well written and a quick read. It presents a new facet of the conquest and is a direct contrast to the writings of Cortes.