Rose Gray and Ruth Rogers can acheive the most delicious dish with basic ingredients. The emphasis is always put on using the freshest products of the best quality. You can almost feel and smell the dish just by reading the recipe. Like all their books, this one is a must have for every italian food lover.

This is a novel about character development. At the same time, the author enlightens the world of a few people. There is not so much story in this book; its strength lies elsewhere. However, having read Forster before, this novel made me a little bit disappointed. To me, the development of Philip is not thoroughly enough described. It does not seem so likely that such a development would occur, either. Philip goes from "blind" to "seeing". He does not take the world as is anymore, but thinks for himself. There is a chain of events that makes him develop, but the events in themselves are not so important. The other characters do not develop at all in my opinion. That is not to say that they are not complex; some are indeed, but they do not develop. Philip is naturally a complex character, too.

England is used to illustrate the world we already know, whereas Italy is used to illustrate "the foreign". This concept works today, still, although "the foreign" would probably have been moved further away. Irony is a big part of Forster's writing: anyone who "loves everything Italian" should laugh. Forster is very subtle here, too subtle in my opinion.

This is not to say that this is not a good book, but not as good as, for instance, A room with a view.

An English family's widowed daughter-in-law marries unexpectedly while on vacation in Italy much to the discontent of the family. The story mostly revolves around the attempts to recover they love child of the deceased child of the daughter-in-law from the assumed rougheon Italian husband so that the child may receive "proper" care and education. The story is detailed but rambles at times. The plot is understood, but not exciting.

"Fools rush in," apparently, to Monteriano in Italy, where beauty triumphs over cold calculation, and-- to paraphrase the end of Johnny Mercer's couplet, not the original of Pope!-- where the heart rules above the head. This novel may not be as subtly polished as _A Room With A View_ nor as deeply serious as _Howards End_ but it does show a great deal of polish and seriousness, and is also a more entertaining story. In fact, I will do my best not to give anything away. While the plot moves forward organically, Forster shapes it with an Austen-like classical symmetry, as well as the conversations, characters, and (above all) the settings: Italy versus England, Monteriano versus Sawston. There are plenty of "juicy" Johnsonian sentences (get out your notebook), but Forster impresses most with his plain, easy style. He is also very funny-- I trust you'll pick up on the many little jokes. But also don't forget that Forster is a satirist with plenty of bite. His attacks are just as effective as Thackeray's, only Forster cares more about people and is remarkably sympathetic to human suffering in all its forms. A few nasty words about Germans wouldn't please the Schlegel sisters very much, but other than that, Forster avoids black-and-white generalizations and veers toward "moral relativism," for lack of a better term. Forster does a good job creating female characters who are unique and complex, who do not come across as manipulated symbols but as living flesh with thinking heads and-- yes-- loving (and hating) hearts. Once in a while Forster falls into his habit of grand poetic statements all flowery and abstract, but somehow he is forgivable (more so here than in _Howards End_). Otherwise, this is a great little story, with a message that hits home and language that ranks among the best of all English novelists. I would say more, but the best part is discovering this for yourself. Still, don't let the crowded opening paragraph get you down! Practically every character is jammed into the first sentence and at first I wondered if I could ever keep them straight. But Forster has a point in doing this: They are seeds in his hands which, tossed randomly, will sprout up as the story goes on. The humor in those opening sentences is also very subtle-- you either find Lilia's own amusement funny or you don't. But some jokes are so clear, as in Irma saying "me three" after an adult says "me too," they are literally infantile. So, this is a fun book, but also very serious-- quite sad when we see how people mistreat each other, and either purposely or accidentally bring misery on family, friends and even strangers (as well as themselves), mainly on account of social conventions. It's also interesting to see Forster's own gay sensibility show through throughout the novel. While _A Room With A View_ remains my favorite book by E.M. Forster, _Where Angels Fear To Tread_ has left me stunned and warmed, thoroughly satisfied from start to finish.

Ned Maddstone is 17 and has everything: a loving girlfriend, a father who is cabinet minister, good looks and the opportunity to study at Oxford. But then things start to go terribly wrong: while he is sailing the captain of the ship dies and gives him a letter to forward and while he is making love to his girlfriend, his friends decide to set him up with some dope. Both events are innocent, but together they make Ned fall into the clutches of the secret service. When he becomes a free man at last, more than 10 years have gone by. And after that it is all about revenge, and quite gruesome revenge at that.

The book is advertised as a modern day Count of Monte Christo. There are some beautiful descriptions in the book, especially the part describing the friendship between Ned and Babe, one of the other inmates, who gives Ned back his sanity and gives him the financial means for revenge. However, I have read more interesting, thought-provoking books by Stephen Fry. An entertaining read but not much more than that and way too much revenge for my taste...

With 'Revenge', Steven Fry continues to cement his reputation as one of Britain's leading modern novelists. Previous novels like 'The Liar' and 'The Hippopotamus' were brilliant, profane, and very, very funny.

Essentially a modern-day retelling of 'The Count of Monte Cristo', Fry has replaced the dashing sailor Edmond Dantes with naive English schoolboy and MP's son Ned Maddstone. Framed by a jealous associate in a fictitious drug transaction, an improbable series of coincidences involving IRA terrorists leads to Ned's imprisonment in a secret government insane asylum. There he is adopted by a polymath who teaches him languages, logic, history, and a variety of other useful knowledge. Further coincidence and years of imprisonment leads to Ned's realization of how he was framed, and by whom. Aided by his mentor, who has secreted a fortune in Swiss bank accounts, Ned escapes his prison and uses this wealth to recreate himself as a British Bill Gates. He then sets in motion a dark plan of revenge against all those who have wronged him.

Although the plot is improbable to the point of impossibility (as it was with Dumas' 'Count of Monte Cristo'), the black humor prevents the novel from descending to the silly or trite. This is not a feel-good novel. Bad things happen to good people, and the novel's resolution involves bad things happening to bad people--lots of very bad things as it turns out. Some might find the extreme eye-for-an-eye mentality to be too much revenge, but one must remember that this novel is essentially farce; albeit the dark side of farce.

I have no idea what the previous reviewers were thinking, but it certainly had nothing to do with the book, Revenge--or as it was entitled in the original, Stars' Tennis Balls.

Fry has never hidden the fact that this is the Count Monte Cristo story, and neither was he going to amend Dumas' storyline by much. It was simply reworked in a, well, very Stephen Fry-esque way. In order to understand it, you need to have known Stephen Fry and his work (including that in acting) for some time. He truly is a representative of a near-extinct type, the well-rounded man.

Revenge/Stars' Tennis Balls has a wealth of autobiographical elements by this rather troubled man, but he never loses his sense of humour about it, nor does it become annoying. It is a virtuoso's play with language that also serves as an entertaining read.

I finished this book in one night and recommend Fry's other works (Hippopotamus, Moab Is My Washpot, Making History, Liar, Paperweight), including his wonderful acting in the famous BBC series, Blackadder. To appreciate them, though, you need to be a bit of a Britophile.