Jockey Kelly Hughes and trainer Dexter Cranfield have their licenses suspended by the Oxford stewards for supposedly throwing a race. Hughes believes that they were framed and he sets out to clear their names and get the licenses restored. Who would want to ruin their careers? As the truth is revealed we hear a story of sexual deviation, blackmail, fixed evidence and attempted murder.

"Yesterday I lost my licence."

That's how the book begins ... and indeed Kelly Hughes, a leading jump jockey , has been indefinitely suspended from racing after being found guilty of deliberately losing a race.

He knows that someone has rigged evidence against him, and rather than sit back and wait for the ban to be lifted , he sets out to find his secret enemy.

Hughes isn't a detective, and just as he doesn't really know how to carry out an investigation, the reader can't guess at how the plot will develop. My favourite highlight is when Hughes is driving home after a dance. At first it seems to be just a 'filler' scene, but it turns into something more dramatic - and the writing here is particularly well-crafted.

The two main characters are Hughes himself , a widower, and Roberta, the snooty daughter of his employer. Near the start of the book Roberta asks him:

" "That picture .. that's your wife isn't it?"
I nodded.
"I remember her". She said. "She was always so sweet to me. She seemed to know what I was feeling. I was really awfully sorry when she was killed"
I looked at her in surprise. The people Rosalind had been sweetest to had invariably been unhappy. She had had a knack of sensing it, and giving succour without being asked. "

Unfortunately Roberta has been brought up by her father to regard jockeys as an inferior social class, and it takes a long time for the two of them to kindle any real friendship, let alone romance.

Francis is particularly good in this book with the minor characters - such as the aristocratic Bobbie, who clearly is very fond of Roberta but can't help hinting that Hughes is a better match for her, or Derek the diffident mechanic who kept most of his brains in his fingertips.

The plot doesn't flag, the tale builds to a satisfactory climax and I only wish Hughes had appeared in another of Francis' books.

The primary reason I continue to seek out and read Dick Francis is that he continually creates heroes that are efficacious and rational. He avoids the common pitfalls of most modern writers, and instead invents characters who pass the ultimate test: "Would I like to meet and know this person?" If you can answer "yes" to that question then there is great potential for enjoyment in the fiction centered around that character. If you answer "no" to that question, why even bother reading further?

Dick Francis' characters almost always recieve an unreserved "YES!" Read "Enquiry," it's not the best from Francis but it's still furlongs beyond the rest.

Francis' third book, written back in the mid-Sixties, though still a great read (curious reference to The Beatles is the only jarring reminder of its time), and a wonderful example of how quickly Francis picked up his new craft. If he was as fluent, smooth, and skillful jockey as he is writer he must, indeed, have been great. This book first introduces Sid Halley, one of Francis' two recurring heroes, the jockey-turned-detective with a damaged left hand. Halley has been drifting through life since his career-ending injury; a further injury (caused by a bullet) and the not so subtle intervention of his father-in-law bring a change to his attitude, a radically different outlook, and a desire to work effectively and properly at his new job. He is badly frightened, and physically damaged ~ two things Francis excells at writing, his fear, especially, is thoroughly convincing ~ but succeeds in both defeating the baddies and renewing his life.

I give ***** to the verson read by Ian McShane (avoid the other readers). I enjoyed McShane's read voice. Some actor/readers, try to act took much when they read - I mean males doing higher voices for females are such a pain. McShane give the right tone, a narrator and is it an enjoyed voice that carries you vividly into the world of ex-jockey Sid Halley. Injured in a riding accident, he now is a Enquiry agent/security expert that is looking into the strange accidents happening and Seabury Race Course.

Dick Francis' writing, quite naturally, is excellent, though it is McShane excellent narration that has me listening to this tape again and again. I have given it several times and gifts and recommended it to friends. All have thanked me for the enjoy listen.

What are your odds not to read the book Odds Against? And what are your odds to stop reading the thrilling pages when you are half way of the book? Finally, what are your odds to finish to book without putting it down? The answer is obvious, none. From a jockey to a private detective along with twisting events with twisting ending, there is no way of telling what will happen next. For those fans that enjoy mystery books, this is one of the books that you can't pass on. In this book, you will find how clever that Sid Halley (a former jockey champion) to end Kraye's (a businessman) plan of taking over Seabury Racecourse. Just make sure that you tell me one thing: What are the odds of Halley spoiling the plot of Kraye and his henchamen?

Francis offers his usual fare: The same protagonist with a new name; a plot of investigation, discovery, physical pain and mental exercises; a supporting cast of believable characters who act in supportable, self-interested, and logical ways. All of which is not to say anything bad; i love to read Francis, and do so when looking for a vicarious thrill and a light read. The protagonist in this one is Edward "Link" Lincoln, an action picture actor ~ the sort who might star in movies made of Francis' books ~ who goes to South Africa for a little off-set investigation. At least, he thinks that's why he's gone there; he's actually gone to be killed. In a post-Apartheid world the picture of South Africa is rather sweet; i would guess Francis had some coöperation from the government in return for his portrayal of the country.

This is one of my favorite all time Dick Francis novels. Link is a character you'll love and you'll loves to plot twists as fiction can become reality.

Uneventful fluff about british horse racing. No mystery, no murder, a good way to kill time as well as brain cells.

High Stakes was an excellent novel. I chose to read it because it focuses on horses and because I have read other books by this author. This novel was a page-turner because there were several twists in the plot. It was easy to relate to the main character and feel what he was feeling, as if his life was yours. The book had certain sections that the reader really had to think about, because the plot was complicated at times. Also, the author has a way of not describing something until the last possible moment. For example, the characters discussed a critically important plan, and the reader themselves did not know what it was until the plan was executed. At times this made the novel some-what confusing, but did not result in the book being misunderstood. In the future I would read another book by this author.

High Stakes marks the beginning of Dick Francis' (or Mrs. Dick Francis, depending upon who actually writes his books) writing for the American market. Tho' not the bone-cruncher the earlier books were, his toy maker is one of the more likable protagonists and the beginning zings!

This is a single volume collection of just some of the writings of the great socialist politcal thinker and revolutionary Rosa Luxemburg.

Born in rural Poland and spending most her early life in Warsaw, Rosa gravitated toward Berlin as an adult and became a prime leader of the German Social-Democratic Party. Following 1898, Edward Bernstein led the German party and most of European socialism into the reformist revisionist position which came to embody the legacy of the 2nd Socialist International. From the very beginning, Rosa identified herself with the left opposition to this reformist position of Bernstein.

Although this book does not contain her important early (1900) book, "Reform or Revolution," the volume does contain enough of her other newspaper articles from the period of time from 1898 until the time of her murder by German police in 1919, that the reader is able to obtain a very clear picture of her philosophy and life.

Although a captivating, intriguing and fascinating account of life on the western frontier from the 1830's through 1870's, one has to question how much of this is fabrication for his own self esteem. While describing his life as a trapper, trader, Indian fighter, scout, guide, freighter, road builder, stagestop operator, etc., Wootton portrays himself somewhat as a braggart and egotistical individual. He does not hesitate to tell his readers how he "could find water better than anyone else"; "shoot better than anyone else"; one of the first to take sheep from New Mexico to California; first to put through a toll road in Colorado; had the first two story building in Denver; the list goes on. If half of what he said is true, so be it. Wootton's book is very good reading and it does depict life extremely well for those days, but at the same time, he seems to be desirous of being the main, most important character for the times represented.

I first read Moby Dick; or The Whale over thirty years ago and I didn't understand it. I thought I was reading a sea adventure, like Westward Ho! or Poe's Arthur Gordon Pym. In fact, it did start out like an adventure story but after twenty chapters or so, things began to get strange. I knew I was in deep water. It was rough, it seemed disjointed, there were lengthy passages that seemed like interruptions to the story, the language was odd and difficult, and often it was just downright bizarre. I plodded through it, some of it I liked, but I believe I was glad when it ended. I knew I was missing something and I understood that it was in me! It wasn't the book; it was manifestly a great book, but I hadn't the knowledge of literature or experience to understand it.

I read it again a few years later. I don't remember what I thought of it. The third time I read it, it was hilarious; parts of it made me laugh out loud! I was amazed at all the puns Melville used, and the crazy characters, and quirky dialog. The fourth or fifth reading, it was finally that adventure story I wanted in the first place. I've read Moby Dick more times than I've counted, more often than any other book. At some point I began to get the symbolism. Somewhere along the line I could see the structure. It's been funny, awesome, exciting, weird, religious, overwhelming and inspiring. It's made my hair stand on end...

Now, when I get near the end I slow down. I go back and reread the chapters about killing the whale, and cutting him up, and boiling him down. Or about the right whale's head versus the sperm whale's. I want to get to The Chase but I want to put it off. I draw Queequeg with his tattoos in the oval of a dollar bill. I take a flask with Starbuck and a Decanter with Flask. Listen to The Symphony and smell The Try-Works. Stubb's Supper on The Cabin Table is a noble dish, but what is a Gam? Heads or Tails, it's a Leg and Arm. I get my Bible and read about Rachel and Jonah. Ahab would Delight in that; he's a wonderful old man. For a Doubloon he'd play King Lear! What if Shakespeare wrote The Tragedy of The Whale? Would Fedallah blind Ishmael with a harpoon, or would The Pequod weave flowers in The Virgin's hair?

Now I know. To say you understand Moby Dick is a lie. It is not a plain thing, but one of the knottiest of all. No one understands it. The best you can hope to do is come to terms with it. Grapple with it. Read it and read it and study the literature around it. Melville didn't understand it. He set out to write another didactic adventure/travelogue with some satire thrown in. He needed another success like Typee or Omoo. He needed some money. He wrote for five or six months and had it nearly finished. And then things began to get strange. A fire deep inside fret his mind like some cosmic boil and came to a head bursting words on the page like splashes of burning metal. He worked with the point of red-hot harpoon and spent a year forging his curious adventure into a bloody ride to hell and back. "...what in the world is equal to it?"

Moby Dick is a masterpiece of literature, the great American novel. Nothing else Melville wrote is even in the water with it, but Steinbeck can't touch it, and no giant's shoulders would let Faulkner wade near it. Melville, The pale Usher, warned the timid: "...don't you read it, ...it is by no means the sort of book for you. ...It is... of the horrible texture of a fabric that should be woven of ships' cables and hausers. A Polar wind blows through it, & birds of prey hover over it. Warn all gentle fastidious people from so much as peeping into the book..." But I say if you've never read it, read it now. If you've read it before, read it again. Think Dostoevsky, Shakespeare, Goethe, and The Bible. If you understand it, think again.

It's always dangerous to label a book as a "masterpiece": that word seems to scare away most readers and distances everyone from the substance of the book itself. Still, I'm going to say that this is the Greatest American Novel because I really think that it is--after having read it myself.

Honestly, Moby Dick IS long and looping, shooting off in random digressions as Ishmael waxes philosophical or explains a whale's anatomy or gives the ingredients for Nantucket clam chowder--and that's exactly what I love about it. This is not a neat novel: Melville refused to conform to anyone else's conventions. There is so much in Moby Dick that you can enjoy it on so many completely different levels: you can read it as a Biblical-Shakespearean-level epic tragedy, as a canonical part of 19th Century philosophy, as a gothic whaling adventure story, or almost anything else. Look at all the lowbrow humor. And I'm sorry, but Ishmael is simply one of the most likable and engaging narrators of all time.

A lot of academics love Moby Dick because academics tend to have good taste in literature. But the book itself takes you about as far from academia as any book written--as Ishmael himself says, "A whale-ship was my Yale College and my Harvard." Take that advice and forget what others say about it, and just experience Moby Dick for yourself.

Finishing "Moby Dick" goes up there with my greatest (and few) academic achievements. It was a gruelling read, but---in the end---completely worthwhile.

I've been reading it for 6 months. I started over the summer, during an abroad program in Oxford, and I remember sitting outside reading when one of the professors came over, saw what I was reading, and said: "It's a very strange book, isn't it?"

Looking back, that might be the best way to describe it. The blurb from D.H. Lawrence on the back cover agrees: Moby Dick "commands a stillness in the soul, an awe...[it is] one of the strangest and most wonderful books in the world."

Now there are those who will say that the book's middle is unbearable---with its maddeningly detailed accounts of whaling. Part of me agrees. That was the hardest to get through. But, still, even the most dull subject offers Melville an opportunity to show off his writing chops. He's a fantastic writer---his text most resembles that of Shakespeare.

And, like one Shakespeare's characters, Melville sees all the world as a stage. Consider this beautiful passage from the first chapter:

"Though I cannot tell why it was exactly that those stage managers, the Fates, put me down for this shabby part of a whaling voyage, when others were set down for magnifient parts in high tragedies, and short and easy parts in genteel comedies, and jolly parts in farces--though I cannot tell why this was exactly; yet, now that I recall all the circumstances, I think I can see a little into the springs and motives which being cunningly presented to me under various disguises, induced me to set about performing the part I did, besides cajoling me into the delusion that it was a choice resulting from my own unbiased freewill and discriminating judgment."

The end of "Moby Dick" informs the rest of the book, and in doing so makes rereading it inevitable. It is telling that Moby Dick doesn't appear until page 494. It is telling, because, the majority of the book is spent in anticipation---in fact, the whole book is anticipation. It's not unlike sex, actually---delaying gratification to a point of almost sublime anguish. What comes at the book's end, then, is mental, physical, and spiritual release (as well as fufillment).

The book leaves you with questions both large and small. I was actually most troubled with this question---What happened to Ishmael? No, we learn his fate at the book's end, but where was he throughout it? We all know how it starts---"Call me Ishmael"---and the book's first few chapters show him interacting with Queequeg and an innkeeper. But then we lose him onboard the Pequod---we never see him interact with anyone. No one ever addresses him. He seems to witness extremely private events---conferences in the Captain's quarters, conversations aboard multiple boats, and--what can only be his conjecture--the other characters' internal dialogue. Is he a phantom? What is he that he isn't? Somehow I think this question masks a much larger and more important one.

Try "Moby Dick." Actually, don't try it---read it. Work at it. Like lifting weights a bit heavier than you're used to, "Moby Dick" will strengthen your brain muscle. Don't believe those who hate it, they didn't read it. They didn't work at it. Be like Ishmael, who says: "I try all things; I achieve what I can." Or, more daringly, be like Ahab, whose ambition is his curse, but whose curse propels and writes the book itself.

Dick Francis writes with authority, but his plot tended to drag at times. Twists near the end were very good. Francis is a masterful manager of plot, although how exciting can a main character who is an accountant be? Worth reading but ultimately forgettable

In many ways this is a quintessential Francis novel, with a fairly normal, likeable hero put into a situation where he is subjected to physical and mental challenges. The plot here is pretty good, although somewhat far fetched. However, this novel varies from the typical successful Francis formuala by having a sexual interlude between the hero and a female supporting character quite early on in the story. This is unusual, since Francis' characters are typcially fairly chaste, but this has the addes uniqueness of having the supporting female character be an older woman who wants to experience sex and chooses the hero, barely recovered from a dangerous brush with criminal types, as her man. This is diverting mostly because it seems to me that it is so different from the norm! I was quite taken aback by this!

Dick Francis has a winning formula: he writes books about a young man of around 30, in a career most people might think is boring, but which turns out to be exciting. His hero is usually taken for granted and under-appreciated by his family, and under-employed, but in the course of the book proves he is far smarter, cleverer, and more observant than anyone supposed. Usually, there's a highly intelligent middle-aged career woman who recognizes his worth and helps him along. It's a formula, but the details that Francis provides makes it work every time.

In this case, our hero is an accountant, an auditor. Many people would start to snore at the thought that auditing could be an exciting job; as a former auditor myself, who has since traded it in for the relative calm of a desk job, I was pleased to see him show how varied and interesting the job can be. Auditors have to know a great deal about a variety of industries, do a lot of travelling, and have highly analytical minds used to investigating small details and discrepancies that most people would not notice. (There might be a bit of bias on my part, of course.) All this means that an auditor winds up making a good investigator of mysteries, as well.

Along with the details of Roland's regular job, and the details of horse-racing that are in every book, we also happen to find out a great deal about yacht-building. Such details are all through Francis's books; he seems to know about every possible job, and must collect details as much as most people collect lint. I always enjoy learning these details!

In this particular book, we have some ambiguous people who turn out not to be bad guys, the person captaining the yacht that Roland first is stored on when kidnapped. Then, the bad guy turns out to be a total surprise, someone we don't suspect at all till the end is revealed. Nonetheless, once the details are pointed out, one goes "Of course!"

Gene Hawkins has a longstanding desire for committing suicide. That is very unlikely for a Dick Francis hero. Indeed, Hawkins is a typical Francis hero; a man of a strong will, an indomitable spirit and a detached mind, yet he bears a wish for killing himself. That's too odd. The story is not bad as a mystery, but I can't tolerate such inconsistency in the hero's character.

Considering it is a 1967 publication, Blood Sport portrays a man who suffers from depression and from a person (me)who also has and does can say the portrayal is very realistic. I'm amazed Francis could write like this in the mid-60's and wonder a bit now if Dick didn't go through some bouts of depression because you almost have to to portray it correctly. A worthwhile read for more than one reason. Aches, cold feet, full of malaise, life seeming worthless and confusing...Francis knew what he was talking about.

Dick Francis has earned a well deserved reputation as one of the best suspense writers around--based more on his writing skills and character development that any real talent for suspense. This is because virtually all his books, regardless of character and milieu, follow a well developed formula. By the third or forth Francis book one has a pretty good feel for how things will proceed. His average books are well enough crafted to keep your attention, his better books--such as Banker, Reflex and Proof--grab you by the throat and won't let go till you are done.

Blood Sport is a significant departure for Francis. The formula is gone, the action aspects of his work take back seat to a much more cerebral style and the main character is far from the iconoclastic, self reliant individualist we normally expect from Francis.

Gene Hawkins is a "screener" for the British Government-essentially a "mole" hunter. He is also suicidal-his previous relationship has shattered and left the man a psychological mess. He has sublimated his troubles into his work-until now. Faced with a mandatory three week leave his boss, fearful for his employee's life-sets him onto the trail of the thieves of one of his pals thoroughbred race horses in America.

What follows is one of the more bizarre, compelling chase stories I have ever read. It is also the most unusual novel Francis has written to date.

Not all Francis fans will like this book-as the previous reviews will attest. However, I found the story very compelling and felt more of a real connection to the characters than is the norm with a Francis novel. I also found it to be more of a true suspense novel than is usually the case with Francis.

I urge Francis fans to give it a try.