Second Skin is a lyrical, difficult but ultimately rewarding novel. It focuses on Skipper, the narrator, who simply tries to survive a series of life tragedies ranging from being the victim of a mutiny to losing his wife and daughter to suicide.

To say these things is not to give away the plot. Because Skipper does not tell his story in a linear fashion, we know what will happen from the beginning. The pleasure is in listening to the narrative voice tell his "naked history" (as Skipper calls it).

John Hawkes is an under-appreciated writer and a brilliant prose stylists. For anyone who loves to read beautiful sentences, this book is highly recommended.

If you want to read a book about Alaska, this is not one to consider! I was amazed that such a reputable writer would publish a story that repeatedly betrays complete ignorance of Alaskan geography, culture, and history. Imagine reading a book written about your home state by someone who seems never to have looked at a map of it, much less visited it or made the least effort to learn its history. I was appalled! If I could have rated this one with negative stars, I would have.

This work of imaginative fiction is the closest John Hawkes ever came to writing an autobiography. His own sensibility informs the character of Sunny; his memories of Uncle Jake are drawn from memories of his own father. The Alaska in the novel is not the everyday cruise ship destination we see in brochures; it's a mysterious childhood world refracted through Hawkes'sensuous prose.

I can't believe I am the first one to review this book! I read it last year for a college literature class and found it absolutely captivating. The imagery of Alaska is perfect, but the best part is the outstanding characterization of Sunny and her father, Uncle Jake. It captures so poigantly the complexities of their relationship--the good points and the bad points. It also, without coming right out and saying it, explains both Sunny's and Uncle Jake's courses of action. I felt bad for Uncle Jake, who ultimately couldn't live up to his (and his perceptions of others') expectations for himself, but worse for Sunny who was left to deal with the consequences of her father's actions. And yet I did not, by any means, find this book to be depressing. I would highly recommend this book to anyone, male or female.

Those who know and value the John Hawkes of old (Second Skin, Travesty, Blood Oranges) may be disappointed with Irish Eye. Hawkes, who once said, "The true enemies of the novel are plot, characters, and setting," has forsaken his prior belief with the publishing of Irish Eye. The book itself is a mildy interesting text best representative of a nightmarish fairytale, as it surrounds readers with a unique view of Ireland and tracks the journey to maturity of young Dervla as she strives to find love and her place in the world. Along the way Hawkes treats readers to various interesting characters, of which Teddy seems the only character to represent the Hawkes of old--tortured, confined, and just angry at the world he refuses to give in and comprise. And so Dervla, our wide-eyed and innocent narrator, follows him all the way. Though some may claim Irish Eye to be a nice introduction to John Hawkes, don't let this fool you...these comments are made simply because this book is "easier" to read. Yes, some of Hawkes major themes are present (disorder and obscurity), but the constriction of characters and reactions/truths that arise from this are largely absent. If you're looking for an actual quality introduction to John Hawkes I would suggest Travesty or possibly Second Skin (with Second Skin being the more difficult read of the two). Overall, a major joy of Hawkes is deciphering that which he writes in order to truly understand the human condition and his fragmented, often disorganized novels challenge readers to not only reread numerous passages but ultimately come to their own conclusion of what the text tells them about life. And with this focus in mind, Irish Eye ultimately comes up short. All authors have a glitch in their library of writings and this seems to be Hawkes. An interesting read--yes. Quality Hawkes--no.

This is a moving, sad book full of the feel of Ireland and adolesecnt yearning and the smell of peat moss. Lovely! Not Hawkes' best but lovely never the less a great read

The highly elevated and flamboyant style of the unreliable first-person narrator is so scathingly hilarious that I began smiling as I read the first page and did not stop smiling until I had finished the last. For example, here Mr. Hawkes has his eccentric narrator describe a childhood playmate:

"He was as small as an insect, as weak as a spider, a tiny ageless boy who sniveled incessantly and wore large round opaque spectacles. And fear? Why, he was afraid of his own shadow, as the saying goes, and with reason, for Christophe's shadow was a ghastly thing to see, with legs and arms half the thickness of Christophe's actual limbs, which were thin enough, and spindly, black, the poor arms often held outstretched from that wisp of a shadow-body never at rest, and from the ends of which there dangled elongated hands ending not in tiny fingers but in claws, or so it seemed as those brittle uncontrollable hands flapped about to the unheard music of his persecution."

That Hawkes' narrator would choose to describe his boyhood friend with such unabashed derisive mocking (albeit not without a touch of sympathy) is but one of many ways in which he charms us thoroughly even as he behaves monstrously. This playful ambiguity has all the potential in the world to make for a fine and complex novel, but that potential is never fulfilled. The unreality of the fairy tale foundation of the story innately prevents any profundity, and when the story attempts to transcend that foundation and enter our world's reality, the result is absurd: hilarious but not profound or otherwise moving. The writing is a joy to read but the story it tells does not communicate much of a tangible experience, especially given its abrupt ending. I was so taken by the narrator's audacity that I found myself wishing that his story amounted to more it did.

This book is as densely rich and layered as its main character.

The Frog, Hawkes's last novel, is-for the post-modern reader and Hawkes fan alike-quite a deviation from the norm. Hawkes's typical themes and style appear in the novel, sardonic wit, eroticism sponsored by a highly moral sensibility, and a page-turning narrative. What may surprise both parties is the author's use of a linear narrative and a seemingly-all too seemingly-simple plotline. However, as any reader from both parties may guess, there is more than meets the eye with this tale of a French boy who ingests a frog in his early childhood. A parable? Maybe. A social critique. Perhaps. A satirical evaluation on psychology. Most likely. Regardless, it is a tale told by a veteran master of prose who, as with the entirety of his canon, has something to say in a more-than-intriguing manner.

Next to NONE of the information provided in this book is still accurate! The programs have changed!

I bought this book when I was interested in a cultural exchange my sophomore year. Unfortunately, I applied to late and wasn't able to go. This book has a nice introductory section on the history of travelling academics, though it was not insightful enough, with enough original source material, or with enought facinating details to capture my interest and encourage me to think differently, or more profoundly about the exchange experience. Stories of how people should expect to feel emotionally in the exchange process are useful. I found though, that chapters like "Should You Go? A Self-Test Questionaire" asked questions like "Have you shown interest before in other countries and other cultures?", "Do you speak other languages, or have you decided to take language courses in high school?" or "Do you consider yourself to be self-confident? How do you handle situations that require strong self control?" to be mostly useless. I knew beforehand why I wanted to go on an exchange -- to experience a new land and culture. A surprising portion of the book raises questions that I had already answered, and found them irritating.

This book is great! I could have used this book when I was going abroad for a year when I was in high school. I work at a foreign exchange program and I read this book as research for what is out there, and I have to say this book was great! Anyone contemplating going abroad needs a copy of this book!

I need an example & exercise solution of this book How can contact solution?

Honestly, I wan't five stars blown away by this book, but it deserves better than to be rated one star because someone in Korea wants the solutions manual. After reviewing the wave and quantum nature of light and some elementary solid-state physics, this book discusses the modulation of light by electrical, magnetic, and acoustic means. This theoretical background is used to motivate the next chapter, which covers display devices like LCDs. The next two chapters cover the basic theory of lasers and some of their non-communications applications like holography and machining. The next chapter covers devices to detect light, followed by a chapter on fiber optic waveguides. At this point, the authors have provided sufficient background to discuss optical communications systems. The final chapter covers the non-communcations applications of fiber such as fiber-optic sensors and coherent fiber bundles for imaging. Overall, the book is a good introductory survey of optoelectronics.

After reading the Predator "film tie-in" I was not expecting much from this book. Suprisingly,tasty tidbits are revealed about the Predators as certain events are portrayed from the Predator's perspective. Reference is also made to the Predators coming to Earth from the dawn of history to conduct their "Big Game". This book also in no way contradicts what we read in the AVP novels. What a pity Simon could not have written the Predator novelisation as well.

Hawkes has gained a strange and slobbering coterie within and beyond the academy: hopefully NOT on the basis of this amateurish novel. The characterization is awkwardly composed and just stinks of falsity (attempts at "literariness", rather than life), the diction is mannered, the symbolist gestures obvious and unappealing...well, you get the idea. Read Tin Drum if you're set on postwar Germany: a masterful alternative, light years beyond Mr John Hawkes, Man of Letters.

John "Look At Me, I'm Writing!" Hawkes' tries his best to be "literary." The previous reviewer calls this book difficult. It's difficult because it's unreadable. Hawkes has no idea what he's doing, so he just makes everything as obscure as he possibly can in hopes it will impress somebody. The emperor has no clothes. Don't bother with this pointless tripe.

"The Cannibal" is an engaging, flowing novel that is also completely flat (in character and description) and jumpy, with no emotional involvement and even less dialogue (if that's a gesture of defiance toward literary convention, it certainly doesn't work). Is it possible for a book to be completely incoherent and confusing during and after reading, but still keep your finger on the next page? Apparently so, as this is certainly not the worst book I've read. It's unmemorable, sure, but John Hawkes at least exhibits a style that's free of the outright pretension that befalls authors like Pynchon and DeLillo. Interpret it how you may: "The Cannibal" is a book about nothing (maybe incoherence and WWII), but it is well-written, therefore it avoids a one-star rating.