Anyway, despite obvious flaws, "Four Quartets" is one of the landmarks of modernist poetry. Basically, the poems are meditations on time and eternity and, most importantly, the excruciatingly difficult task of trying to attain a little "consciousness" therein. Those, however, who feel no great kinship with philosophical poetry -- who indeed feel that poetry should express "no ideas, except in things," are perhaps never going to warm up to this collection. For those, on the other hand, who believe that poetry is one of the primary tools for grappling with the verities, then what else can I say except pounce on this collection? Oh, it's going to take many readings, much time and a great deal of thinking to plummet the furthest recesses of this profoundly great art, but then again what more could you ask for from poetry?

By the way, if you've never heard the recordings of Eliot reading these works, then you simply haven't lived.

Coleman writes, 'The premise of this book is that you can make a good living on 5 acres or less of intensive vegetable production. Thus it is those acres that concern us most.' (p16)

In a nutshell, Coleman's approach is to:

- plan and market effectively

- develop the healthiest soil

- grow the most valuable crops

- extend the growing season to the maximum

He show just how to do this in 334 pages with 28 chapters and four appendices. There isn't space here to offer a contents list, but here are some highlights:

Chapters addressing the question 'why do it?' - Agricultural craftsmanship', 'a final question'

Chapters on 'season extension', mobile greenhouses and 'the winter garden'.

'Plant-positive' solutions to pests.

Chapters on marketing strategy and marketing.

However, 'The New Organic Grower' covers far more than this - in fact everything you could need to start successful organic vegetable production! Readers living in cool/temperate climates may also want to check out Coleman's other popular book, 'Four Season Harvest'.

I first encountered "Seven Nights" some years ago. Having just read Dante's Inferno for the first time, I was having difficulty articulating the powerful impact that Dante's great work had made on me. In his first lecture, "The Divine Comedy", Borges provided the words.

He says, the Middle Ages "gave us, above all, the Divine Comedy, which we continue to read, and which continues to astonish us, which will last beyond our lives, far beyond our waking lives." He describes the joy of reading Dante's work as a narrative, ignoring - at least during the first reading - the extensively documented literary and historical criticism. "The Commedia is a book everyone ought to read. Not to do so is to deprive oneself of the greatest gift that literature can give us."

"Dreams are the genus; nightmares are the species. I will speak first of dreams, and then of nightmares." So begins lecture two. Borges takes us on a journey through history, literature, and poetry in search for understanding of that so common, but so unusual event, that we call dreams.

"A major event in the history of the West was the discovery of the East." And so begins lecture three on that great work that defines the mystery that is Arabia. "These tales have had a strange history. They were first told in India, then in Persia, then in Asia Minor, and finally were written down in Arabic and compiled in Cairo. They became The Book of a Thousand and One Nights."

Borges' lectures travel an elliptical orbit around his topic, sometimes approaching directly, other times looking outward, away from his stated subject. In his lecture on poetry (number five) he comments on literature in general: "A bibliography is unimportant - after all, Shakespeare knew nothing of Shakespearean criticism. Why not study the texts directly? If you like the book, fine. If you don't, don't read it. The idea of compulsory reading is absurd. Literature is rich enough to offer you some other author worthy of your attention - or one today unworthy of your attention whom you will read tomorrow."

His other lectures, "Buddhism", "The Kabbalah", and "Blindness", are equally intriguing. In once more rereading "Seven Nights" I found myself again astounded by Borges, by his seemingly inexhaustible knowledge of literature, by his capability to forge unexpected connections, and by his provocative statements. He has obviously given considerable thought to his conclusions, although Borges is anything but dogmatic. I enjoy a quote from a concluding paragraph in "Nightmares". "We may draw two conclusions, at least tonight; later we can change our minds."

Whether you are familiar with Borges or not, I highly recommend "Seven Nights". Borges is simply without peer, and I do not expect to change my mind later.

Everyone I've known who's read any Stone Soup has enjoyed it and wound up quoting or passing around some of the strips.

Recommended reading for everyone except total grumps, I say.

It deals with any number of hot button nineties issues: the nature and place of women, life at work and home, the struggle to make ends meet, modern romance, child-rearing. Turn to nearly any page, and you're sure to find something profound and thought-provoking. Plots spin out over several pages, and one-strip gags are frequent. Certainly it held my interest.

My only regret: trying to catch up to the presently-running strips. I can only hope there will be further volumes.

Oh, and did I mention it's extremely funny? It's extremely funny...

What is essential about this book is that each poem comes with the bilingual translation in English and accompanied by the original works in Spanish. Two years of high school Spanish, as well as two years in college, has rendered me with a woefully inadequate ineptitude of all words and understanding of that language. But I don't think that the translation can ever capture the sound, the alliteration, the true tongue/la lingua and fluid language that Paz meant in his original Spanish. Even if I don't understand a lick of what's on the left side of the page in Spanish at least it can be read for it's beautiful sound. Listen to this, "Through the conduits of bone I night I water I forest that moves forward I tongue I body I sun-bone Through the conduits of night" and then on the even-numbered page, "Por el arcaduz de hueso yo noche yo agua yo bosque que avanza yo lengua yo cuerpo yo hueso de sol Por el arcaduz de noche."

What are you doing still sitting here reading my crappy writing when you could be reading Ocatavio Paz? Go get the book...you'll see.

Paz consistently suprises the reader with new ideas, form, language. Paz creates an atmosphere that is soothing, and enchanting. I would highly recommend this work.

Teach your children well....

Thankfully, the old ways of Appalachian country living are preserved in these interesting and relevant instructional books. If you've ever been interested in how rural Americans survived before the days of Wal-Mart and Shoprite, you only have to look to the Foxfire books.

These books are very useful and informative. They come with plenty of diagrams and photos to teach you how to live off the land. Before the advent of trailer homes and double-wides, rural Americans had to build log homes. Before satellite TV and Playstations we had banjos and ghost stories. And before welfare, people were self-sufficient and could live off the land.

Not only can these books teach you about country living, they are handy for any writers or researchers who want details on Appalachian mountain life. There are lots of monologues and stories told by old-timers here. In many cases the living language of these folks is preserved quite well, and by reading their stories you almost feel like you're with them.

-- JJ Timmins

Calvino writes about five different qualities of literature: Lightness, Quickness, Exactitude, Visibility, and Multiplicity (he had intended to write a sixth chapter on Consistency, before his untimely death). He examines these qualities closely, using his own facile language as the medium.

Read it, by all means.