(That's really all I have to add. Why don't they reissue it?)

The previous two reviews are absolutely on target, and it is criminal indeed that this is out of print. (for New Yorkers: I saw one remaining copy at Strand Book Store) I would only add that this book was listed for the National Book Award in 1992 and won the PEN-Hemingway Foundation Award for best first fiction. These are moving stories that capture a time and place but transcend both, and reach beyond ethnic boundaries to larger truths. Maybe it's not a stretch to say that Jones does for D.C. what Joyce did for Dublin in "Dubliners."

This book of stories is one of the treasures of the 1990's, and it's a sad commentary that it is out of print. Jones hasn't helped himself by not publishing a follow-up, but Lost in the City is good enough to stand on its own. If you can find it second hand, buy it.

By far the best informed and most complete review of Edward Said and his thoughts that I have come across to date. Ashcroft and Ahluwalia take the time to explain all the background information that is absent in most introductory books.

This volume take great pains to explains Said's key concepts, ideas, contexts and impact. Both authors take the time to address reference to both his scholarship and journalism. The range of ideas include:
(1)the function and space of text and critic in "the world"
(2)Power/Knowledge
(3)the social construction of the "Other"
(4)the joins between culture and imperialism
(5)exile
(6)identity and
(7)Palestine.

It needs less explanation from me and more engagement from the reader to get the fullness of the experience. What is key is how well they have taken the time to explain through most of Said's interlocutors such as Dennis Porter, Aijiz Ahmad and Robert Young - to name a few. The key is to keep in mind the critique of Said and how fair and relevant they are. Said's use of Foucault is problematic and is discussed and certainly well explored in this book. Buy it, read it and digest it - then re read Orientalism.

Miguel Llora

An important review of heart disease from fetal life through adolescence. Very well written and quite clear and complete. No reference library on congenital heart disease is complete without this book

In this curious autobiiography, Anthony Trollope sketches in the outlines of his life. He relates the misery of his childhood, the heroism of his mother, the tragedy and ultimate failure of his father. If not banal, at least typical material for an autobiography, and makes for good reading. The second two-thirds of the book summarizes his writings, and relate his ideas on everything from literary criticism to suggestions for young writers. Perhaps most interesting are his assessments of his own work, praising or condemning them with little emotion. Of course there is the famous analysis of his working methods, where he counts words and disciplines himself to an astonishingly regular routine of writing. He produced 47 novels, edited and wrote for magazines, all the while working full time for the post office. One distressing feature of this work is the almost complete lack of intormation about his wife and family....It is clear that he lived with and loved his fictional characters more than his corporeal family. Also, the grammar and punctuation are often awkward but this is still a highly readable and fascinating book.

If one has read a number of Trollope's novels, one would expect that Trollope would have written precisely this sort of autobiography. In fact, it is almost impossible to imagine it having taken any other form.

Trollope writes not so much of his life (though he does touch upon the major events), as of his occupation. Although employed most of his adult life by the postal service, Trollope decided to engage in a second and parallel career as a writer. He is forthright about his motives: the satisfaction of writing, but also fame, financial reward, and social standing. Looking back on his career, Trollope is proud of a job well done. The oddity is that he seems quite as happy telling us about how much he sold each work for, and the financial dealings with his publishers, as he does about his books and characters. In fact, near the end of the book he gives a complete list of his novels and how much he managed to sell each one for (with very few exceptions, he preferred to sell the rights to a novel, rather than getting a percentage of sales). What emerges is a portrait of the novelist not as an artist so much as a dedicated, disciplined craftsman. He explicitly denigrates the value of genius and creativity in a novelist in favor of hard work and keeping to a schedule of writing.

The early sections of the book dealing with his childhood are fascinating. By all measures, Trollope had a bad childhood. His discussions of his father are full of pathos and sadness. What is especially shocking is the lack of credit he gives to his mother, who, in early middle age, realizing that her husband was a perpetual financial failure, decided to salvage the family's fortunes by becoming a novelist. He notes that while nursing several children dying from consumption, she wrote a huge succession of books, enabling the family to live a greatly improved mode of existence. Her achievement must strike an outside observer as an incredibly heroic undertaking. Trollope seems scarcely impressed.

Some of the more interesting parts of the book are his evaluation of the work of many of his contemporaries. History has not agreed completely with all of his assessments. For instance, he rates Thackery as the greatest novelist of his generation, and HENRY ESMOND as the greatest novel in the language. HENRY ESMOND is still somewhat read, but it hardly receives the kind of regard that Trollope heaped on it, and it is certainly not as highly regarded as VANITY FAIR. Trollope's remarks on George Eliot are, however, far closer to general opinion. His remarks concerning Dickens, are, however, bizarre. It is obvious that Trollope really dislikes him, even while grudgingly offering some compliments. Quite perceptively, Trollope remarks that Dickens's famous characters are not lifelike or human (anticipating E. M. Forster's assessment that Dickens's characters are "flat" rather than "round" like those of Tolstoy or Austen) and that Dickens's famous pathos is artificial and inhuman (anticipating Oscar Wilde's wonderful witticism that "It would take a man with a heart of stone to cry at the death of Little Nell"). Even the most avid fan of Dickens would admit that his characters, while enormously vivid and well drawn, are nonetheless a bit cartoonish, and that much of the pathos is a tad over the top. But Trollope goes on to attack Dickens's prose: "Of Dickens's style it is impossible to speak in praise. It is jerky, ungrammatical, and created by himself in defiance of rules . . . . To readers who have taught themselves to regard language, it must therefore be unpleasant." If one had not read Dickens, after reading Trollope on Dickens, one would wonder why anyone bothered to read him at all. One wonders if some of Trollope's problems with Dickens was professional jealousy. For whatever reason, he clearly believes that Dickens receives far more than his due.

Favorite moment: Trollope recounts being in a club working on the novel that turned into THE LAST CHRONICLE OF BARSET, when he overheard two clergymen discussing his novels, unaware that he was sitting near them. One of them complained of the continual reappearance of several characters in the Barsetshire series, in particular Mrs. Proudie. Trollope then introduces himself, apologizes for the reappearing Mrs. Proudie, and promises, "I will go home and kill her before the week is over." Which, he says, he proceeded to do.

you should consider reading this too! Trollope writes candidly about his education (and about being a poor, mostly overlooked student), his lack of professional ambition (and how he finally got around to witing his first novel),and the ups and downs of his literary career (and his early rejections). He does all of this in the same conversational tone employed in his novels, making this autobiography feel more like a chat with an older, experienced friend than a learned, classic autobiography

Although this book is centered on the matter of Mark Robarts and his moral dilemma, we also encounter his sister, Lucy. She is one who is presented to us as a real Christian woman. She takes on herself the care of Mrs Crawley who is suffering with a deadly fever. Lucy is the ideal woman, beautiful, charitable, caring. She deserves the very best and is rewarded for her efforts by becoming Lady Lufton. Mark on the other hand, suffers a great deal largely from ill-advised friendship with Sowerby. Mark wants to achieve status by ill-advised social connections. Thankfully he is saved from ruin by his friends.

(...) Framley Parsonage speaks SO directly about a subject which is so integrated into our lives that it is hardly questioned in our society, namely ambition.

The last hundred years of American society seem to speak of the primacy of "progress" as a driving force. Just look at the current discussion of flat economic indicators. God forbid that we only produce THE SAME as last year. But I digress. Trollope, in his own masterly way, writes of the temptations and difficulties which accompany ambition. And, much to my delight as a reader, he shows how his main character actually overcomes those difficulties by facing his previous moral failings head on.

(...)

Young clergyman Mark Robarts receives a choice parish, thanks to Lady Lufton, the mother of one of his university friends. However, Robarts, though newly and happily married, is not content to settle into the life of a country minister. Lured by a wealthy and worldly set of new acquaintances, he finds himself pushed into living beyond his means and, worse yet, being held legally responsible for another man's bad debts.

Meantime the young Lord Lufton has been smitten by the charms of Robarts' sister Lucy, much to the displeasure of his aristocratic mother. It take a great act of magnanimity on Lucy's part - helping the impoverished Crawley family during a crisis (the Crawleys are more prominent in "The Last Chronicle of Barset") - to finally convince Lady Lufton that Lucy is worthy of her son.

This beautifully written novel contrasts the simpler integrity, though sometimes snobbish values, of the old ways with the more meretriciously glamorous lives of a newer society. As usual, Trollope has produced a multitude of characters whose motives are completely credible, and his depiction of the different social groups provides a most vivid kaleidoscope of Victorian life and attitudes. As always, there is nothing outdated in Trollope's sure insight into human nature.

I enjoyed this book on many levels, which I'll discuss below, but the best part about it, is I've now added about 20 books to my wish list (I'm sure amazon appreciates it!). This book is fabulous as a jumping off point. It describes books well enough to pique your interest--or turn you away,if it's not your style. Plots are discussed only in the minimum; there's never any spoilers. It also discusses actors, writers, and production work of the wonderful series Mystery! The pictures from the shows are beautiful. If you have any interest in the show Mystery, or in adding new authors to your stack to read, take a look at this book. You won't be disappointed.

Once in a while something does come along to rival sliced bread. This book is it. I have had many questions about different mystery series. The latest is when the BBC produced The Dorothy L. Sayers series with Lord Peter Wimsey and Harriet Vane, why did they stop short and not produce "Busman's Honeymoon"? And the answer is:

"Sadly, Mystery! Viewers never got to see the payoff to this classic romance. Sayers wrote about the marriage in 'Busman's Honeymoon', which couldn't be filmed for Mystery! Because Sayers had sold the film rights to Hollywood in the 1930's; it was turned into the 1940 film 'Haunted Honeymoon', but efforts to secure the rights for the new BBC-TV version weren't successful."

This book is packed with such information and many great stills form many Mystery! programs. Now I need to see the ones I missed.

Mystery : A Celebration is the ideal book to have by your armchair while you watch mysteries like Inspector Morse, Prime Suspect, the P.D. James mysteries, and many others that appear on the PBS MYSTERY series. Don't watch any of these mysteries without MYSTERY : A Celebration. Mystery readers will also enjoy this book. It provides the reader with a listing of titles by mystery authors like Colin Dexter, P.D. James, and others.It provides the reader with biographical information about the mystery authors and actors who are well known for portraying the popular detectives as well.

"Aurora Floyd" may not be the best novel Mary Elizabeth Braddon wrote -- the honor goes to "Lady Audley's Secret" -- but, the book is still intriguing because of the contrast it makes with the other book and many other comtemporary novels, especially "Jane Eyre." And if you don't have these historical interest, the book is pretty interesting thanks to its good story telling.

"Aurora Floyd" follows the history of the heroine of the same name, who has a shady past left in France. Aurora, unrestrained morally in her youth, hides some secret, but still attractive enough to make the two heroes fall in love with her. Without telling the nature of the secret, Aurora, strong-willed and candid, a gives a clear warning to one of them, proud Talbot Bulstrode, that he may one day regret his rash action if he dares to marry her. While he vanishes from her to marry other woman, tame and tender-hearted Lucy, the other suitor meek John Mellish succeeds in winning her heart, and he immediately marries her, not knowing her secret. As the time goes on, however, her hidden secret emerges from the past, and finally catches up with Aurora, living now quietly in a countryside. She must face the past, but how? While she is tormented by the sense of guilt, her husband began to suspect something wicked is going on, and he too began to suffer.

The story is melodramatic, but it is the merit of sensation novels, the genre in vogue during the 1860s, and Braddon, as she showed in her previous (actually written almost at the same time) "Lady Audley's Secret," is very good at handling the subject. It is notable, however, that the author intends to do something different this time, spending more pages on the analysis of the psychology of the characters. The result is a mixed bag; sometimes she shows good descriptions of characters with a witty touch, which reminds us of Thackeray, the story sometimes gets slower because of too much philosophy. Compared with the fast-paced "Lady Audley's Secret," her new experiment may look somewhat damaging.

But as a whole, the book is agreeable, and after you finish two-thirds of the book, Braddon makes the plot speedier. The last part includes one of the earliest examples of detective story, and a good (but short) portrayal of detective Joseph Grimstone's work is still fascinating. But the greatest merit of the book is its sub-text dealing with incredibly violent passion of Aurora, whose image is clearly mocking the typical angelic image of Victorain women. One of the book's scenes, in which the heroine gives a shower of blows with her wrip to her stable-man who bullied her dog, caused sensation and scandalized some critics. The description is still impressive today.

In conclusion, "Aurora Floyd" is a fairly gripping story, even though it is not the best place to start reading her books or Victorian novels. If you think you are familiar with those Victoraiin novels, or want to read one of the effect following the impact of Bronte's "Jane Eyre," try it.

Trivia: Braddon lived long (died in 1915), and before her death, she even watched the filmed version of her own "Aurora Floyd." Her life story is as intriguing as a story she wrote.

[NOTE ON THE TEXT] Oxford University Press's "Aurora Flyod" uses the later edition of the book while Broadview Press's uses an earlier edition. The former one is considerable changed from the latter, so for the academic use you must be careful.

Having devoured Trollope, Willkie Collins, I happened onto Aurora Floyd and was truly surprised to find such an outstanding story so beautifully written. A dark secret revealed, a murder and a love story, this is a wonderful book.

This book serves not only as a cogent introduction to the massive and complex body of work Said has produced in his lifetime, but it uses some of Said's own observations and critical mechanisms to understand Said. It contextualizes Said in a milieu that explains his own production of knowledge: something Said accomplished deftly in his landmark 'Orientalism' (1978). In that work, however, he examines the history of the western academic and popular cultural disposition towards "the Orient," or "the other" as an integral part of its imperial political aspirations. 'Paradox' gives an understandable syanpsis of a work many professors find difficult. Without giving away the fascinating hypothesis, Said's identity is explored amidst greater questions of the politics and meaning of identity -- themes Said is close to. This work is useful to those highly familiar with Said or those, such as myself, who seek a nice summary and introduction to the sphere of Said's work, ides that he influenced, as well as ideas he was influenced by. Its weakness is that it is probably of more utility to those belonging in the latter group of those un- or semi-familiar; though my own membership in that group may taint that judgment.

Trollope wrote this very short novel (only about 45,000 words) for the Christmas issue of a London magazine. Regarding Victorian sentimentality about the holiday as "humbug", he presented a very different sort of Yuletide tale, one in which there are no snow flakes and no sleigh bells - and in which fires are not cozy but frightening.

The hero is a prosperous young sheep rancher in Queensland, where December is the hottest, driest month of the year, when a careless match can spark a ruinous blaze and in a few hours wipe out all that a man has built through years of labor.

Careless matches are not the only danger. Harry has just as much fear of malicious ones. He is an imperious ruler of his domain (120,000 acres leased from the Crown) and prides himself on his unflinching candor. Not surprisingly, he is at feud with his shiftless, thieving neighbors, the Brownbie clan, and is quite willing to quarrel with Giles Medlicot, another neighbor, when Medlicot hires on a hand whom Harry has dismissed for insubordination and suspects of plotting arson.

In other Trollope novels, "war to the knife" means snubbing an enemy in the street or not inviting him to a garden party. In this one, conflict is simpler and more violent. With the grass growing more parched by the hour, Harry's enemies gather, scheme and strike. Because Trollope is not a tragedian, they are thwarted - narrowly - and there is even a Christmas dinner to conclude the story and incidentally seal a budding romance. But the pacing and atmosphere are very different from the Trollope that readers expect.

The picture of a frontier society, living almost in a Hobbesian "state of nature", is vivid, and the moral consequences of that state are clearly drawn. Harry's refusal to compromise with what he believes to be wrong is a principle that can be safely followed only where the structures of law and order offer shelter. Where a man must be his own constable, high principle is a dangerous luxury. The appearance of two colonial policemen at the end, as helpless to punish the malefactors as they were to forestall them, underlines the impotence of the law and perhaps reminded Trollope's audience of the excellence of their own social arrangements.

Alert members of that audience will perhaps have noticed that Queensland displays ironic inversions of English certitudes. Most notably, Harry leases his land and _therefore_ considers himself socially much above Medlicot, who has purchased his. In the home country, of course, a land owner who farmed his property (Medlicot is a sugar grower) would have looked severely down upon a man who kept livestock on rented pastures.

Unfortunately, despite its excellent qualities, "Harry Heathcote" suffers a defect that reduces it to the Trollopian second class (albeit that is no low place to be). In so short a work, nothing should be wasted, and too many words are wasted here on a perfunctory romance, one of the least interesting that Trollope ever devised. Medlicot's courtship of Harry's sister-in-law not only adds nothing to the narrative but is positively detrimental, as it gives the neighbor a self-interested motive for his decision to take Harry's side against the Brownbie conspiracy rather than maintain a "fair-minded" neutrality.

Anyone who has never read Trollope should not begin here, but the author's fans will not regret passing a few hours with him in the Australian bush.

If you are parent of a chid with kidney disease, Read this book. Although some contents are already familiar with you, because you were told from your doctor, the suggestion of diet guideline and medication side-effects are helpful. Because therapies of the respective hospital are somewhat different, you have to know the side-effects of the medicines which your child take. Learning from this book, you can concern your doctor about your child's medications. But, I think the treatment methods of the future in this book are somewhat insufficient. Children will live longer than adult. So, I think supplement for this section will be needed.