At 1st of May,2003, in Osaka municipal Museum, Japan, I appreciated the travelling exhibition including this John B. Elliott Collection.
This traced copy scroll of a two-line fragment of a letter by Wang Hsi-chih(ACE303-361) is fine. Atouched Dong Quichang(1555-1636) colophones and large character maximes calligraphy are impressive. Sung dynasty Emperor Hui-Tsong(r. 1101-1125) court mounting and seals seem genuine. The Wang calligraphy itself has enough quality among many his old replicas. The ink colour feels rather later period than 8th century.
Another impressive work is Zhu Yunming(ACE1460-1526)'s small square script
album.
However, this is a private and personal collection catalogue. Reading this, one imagines and looks for passed Mr. Elliott's personality and taste.
It is too heavy burden for this collection to act as a textbook of great chinese calligraphy history.
Indeed there is few museum whose collection is completely genuine, I recommend chinese-calligraphy lovers in USA to appreciate, study and learn masterpieces in National Palace Museum, Taipei, First.
Japanese collections also have masterpieces.

Most major styles are presented in this wonderfully printed book. The articles are informatory and scholarly. This fine collection of calligraphy is intoxicatingly beautiful.

What fascinates me so much about this book, what keeps drawing me to it, is this: the calligraphers of ancient China wrote as they painted, and painted as they wrote. In other words, each character is an "embodied image" which expresses the moods and passions of its creator.

When we Westerners read, we read for content, for meaning only. We do not read and at the same time notice how the characters look. Since Gutenberg and the advent of movable type, and especially now, with digital type, each of our characters must always look the same. When they don't, it is considered an imperfection. In Chinese calligraphy, however, considerable attention is given to how the characters look. It is through their appearance that we can discern the whether the creator was hurried, what angle he wrote at, and what mood he might have been in.

The visual effect of a poem written by a great Chinese calligrapher a thousand years ago, vs. reading the same poem in a standardized font, is quite stark. We have a lot to learn from the Chinese, especially given their likely ascension of global power in the coming years. This book provides an indispensable, detailed, well illustrated reference for an important aspect of how Chinese culture differs so dramatically from our own.

Highly recommended.

The heirs of Raymond Chandler, one of the most imitated writers of all time, approached Parker, an obvious disciple of the master, to finish an incomplete manuscript the deceased author left behind. This was a tough assignment: The story was begun when Chandler was past his prime, his habitual alcohol abuse having taken it's toll on his creative powers. There was no plot to speak of, just a few initial chapters, with Chandler's writing sounding like a maudlin parody of his earlier work. Still, the talent was there, and the playfulness and wit had not died out completely, in spite of all else. And like Sherlock Holmes, Philip Marlowe is too good to let him fade away just because his initial author has passed on. So Parker had to finish someone else's novel, with someone else's style and someone else's protagonist, in another place and time that wasn't his own. And he did a remarkable job - funny, witty, and as true to the original as the first five chapters that were given him would allow. It's a period piece that re-creates the decadent world of Marlowe's California, with a nod or two to contemporary tastes for violence and sexual content. So once you understand the obstacles, you can appreciate the result even more...a fun novel that stands on it's own as a parody and as a hard-boiled romp through old L.A., and a chance to spend some time with a much-missed thick-skinned soft-hearted galahad of the golden state, after a long goodbye.

This is Parker's book, as first four chapters, credited to Chandler, are a very small part of it. Thus this book can be evaluated on several tiers: (1) Is it a seamless continuation of the style and character development of Chandler's work? (2) Is it a valid representation of Chandler's characters, perhaps in the style of Parker? (3) Is it a good book on its own?

I haven't read Chandler, so I'll stick with (3). This book is a good read. The story, characters, and plot are sufficiently engaging that I found it hard to put down, which is rare for me. Parker really excels at detective fiction, and this ranks with his best.

One issue is that Marlowe as represented here is like Spenser's twin brother, so if you're tired of Spenser, you'll be only moderately refreshed by the new protagonist.

Another is that Parker's love for Boston and New England doesn't extend to LA, Hollywood, and "Poodle Springs" (Newberry Springs?). There's a shallowness in his description, which is perhaps partially justified. But Michael Connelly, for example, does a much better job of capturing a feel for life in the Los Angeles region.

But still I recommend this book. On it's own, it's a good, engaging detective novel.

This is a novel mostly written by Robert Parker, drawing on four chapters started by Raymond Chandler at the end of his life. If you are looking for a great Marlowe story done just like the early ones, you will be disappointed. If you are glad to have one more chance to be with Marlowe, I think you will be pleased with the experience.

The story is a natural for Parker, because it involves Marlowe getting married to a rich society woman on the spur of the moment. Having gotten together, they both realize that not all is right in this relationship. 'Can't live with him, can't live without him' could have been the title. The relationship raises a lot of the kinds of issues that Parker handles well in the Spenser stories between he and Susan.

Marlowe keeps at his detective work, and we get to meet a whole cast of hard characters with wonderfully terse dialogue and understatement. Although not as tough as a Chandler, it is certainly tough in an appealing Parkerish way.

Having grown up in Southern California in the 1950s, I could relate to the tale that Chandler/Parker have woven. It seemed to fit my memory of those times, and had a sort of smoky, boozy nostalgia attached to it.

Give it a try. The first five chapters are only about 26 pages. You'll have a good sense whether or not you want to read more. I know I could not have possibly put it down at that point. I was hooked. Maybe you will be, too. I hope it will be irresistible for you as well.

If you know have ever read a book by R.B. Parker you will find yourself in a familiar environment in this book. Parker sets himself a brave task in writing a sequel to Raymond Chandler's "The Big Sleep" and succeeds in pulling it off superbly. Parker is one of the rare modern writers who still believe that characters can have principles, and live by them even in extreme circumstances. Although this is not Parker's best work, I still recommend this book in which, in my opinion, Parker surpasses one of the legends of detective fition, Raymond Chandler.

a little background is in order (as I understand it): the heirs of Chandler approached Parker to finish the Poodle Springs manuscript, and part of the deal was that he had to write one more Marlowe story. 'Dream' is that one more. The job was almost impossible to begin with (Chandler's drinking had taken the edge off his talent by that time, and the Poodle manuscript got off on the wrong foot to boot), the Chandler fans ripped it for not being up to Chandler's prime (which even Chandler himself wasn't, towards the end), the Parker fans ripped it for not being true Spencer, and Parker felt the strain of wearing another man's shoes. So by the time he got to this one, my guess is, his heart wasn't in it. He's said he'll never do another Marlowe book. That said, it's still good to have Marlowe back, cracking wise and cruising the mean streets again. I liked it better than Chandler's "The Pencil", and better than some of the Spencer books! I just wish Parker would reconsider, and do another Marlowe book without the pressures and constraints of a contract. Marlowe, like Sherlock, is a detective who deserves to live on after his progenitor, but the return of L.A.'s hard-boiled prose-poet is, perchance, just a dream.

Robert B. Parker comes the closest to the attitude of Phillip Marlowe. Stuart Kaminsky writes his Toby Peters stories more for laughs. Andrew Bergman (The Big Kiss-Off of 1944) had flashes where he nailed the speech, but was more in keeping with Spillane overall. William Nolan (The Marble Orchard) copies some of the dialogue- and I do mean copies- in his enjoyable Chandlerian mystery. And there are others, myriad others. But none of them get it quite right.

Neither does Parker, but he comes the closest. He matches the world-weariness, the cynicism and the reluctant romanticism, finding the knight in tarnished armor that is Marlowe. Yes, he very nearly matches the attitude. But he falls short with the style.

Chandler nearly ruined literature for me, because everything about every line of his writing'- the dialogue, the descriptions, the societal observations'- is so incredibly entertaining. Nothing can meet its rarified level. So I try to make due with 'close-enoughs.' When I finish a Chandler novel, I am depressed it came to an end; when I closed Parker's Perchance To Dream, it elicited a 'That's all there is?'

In P2D, the narrative is much too straightforward. The villain was clear from the first quarter of the book and there were few mysteries to solve. No convoluted Black Mask motives, no people impersonating other people. Marlowe doesn't even get sapped until distressingly late in the story. There is only one real subplot; then that ties in with the other so they can both be too-neatly wrapped up. It becomes clear what Marlowe must do and he sets out to do it. Then, very abruptly, the novel is over. It is strenuous but not complex. There is no last minute twist because the story followed a Spenser-like plot; it more resembles the structure of the first Lethal Weapon movie than it does that of The Big Sleep.

And as 50 years have passed between the publishing of the original novel and this one, some subtlety has been forsaken. Parker shows welcome restraint given the subject matter, but Carmen's decadence seemed in Chandler's novel somehow exotic and vague. In P2D, as postmodern psychology and sensibilities are applied, it seems cold and open and dirty.

Still, there is a lot that is great in this book. The flashbacks and tips-of-the-hat to the original novel come off better than they might have. We root for Marlowe and hiss the villain, as we should. Parker has penned an abundance of juicy wisecracks and has figured out how to end his chapters in the bittersweet tone much like Chandler accomplished. And the story, despite what I said above, is furiously-paced and viscerally entertaining. It just isn't Chandler.

Perchance To Dream is a good novel; but when someone slaps the words 'Sequel to The Big Sleep' on the cover of anything it had better be blackjack-to-the-head *great*. The fault isn't really Parker's' he came close, and his was a nigh-impossible task. After all, who can be as great as Raymond Chandler?

P.S. Poodle Springs was a more accurate tribute, if a less actionful read.