John Halperin takes Lytton Strachey as his model and provides four short lives of people he views as emblematic of the "second Georgian" era - King Geroge V himself, Elizabeth Bowen, St. John Philby and Nancy Astor. The results are interesting without being particularly memorable. Halperin tells his stories in a plain documentary fashion, without much analysis and with none of the mordant wit or strong opinions of Strachey's nasty little classic. Such a straightforward approach works best if bolsered by extensive research, but the slim bibliography indicates a newspaper profile rather than an original and insightful work. All this being said, Bowen, Philby and Astor are interesting enough as people to making reading "Eminent Georgians" worthwhile. As for the good King George, it will take a much more persuasive writer to bring that admirable but dull monarch to life on the page.

The Trespasser is the tragic tale of Siemund, a music teacher with an unhappy family life, and his student, who becomes his lover. It isn't a worthless book, but your time would definately be better spent reading one of the famous Lawrence books - this is clearly the creation of a young, impressionable mind. For instance, Lawrence makes constant reference to Wagner's 'Ring' in the book, rubbing the reader's nose profusely in heavyhanded hints that Siemund is borrowed from the German composer's work.

Despite the fact that I thought the ideas were unusual, I found the reading rather dull and uninteresting. Nothing in the entire work kept me wanting to turn the pages.

Harris seems to lack a distinct style all her own. It seems as though she borrows much from other writers, but not to the point that it's obvious, to her credit. For the most of it, I found this book no more entertainign than a campfire story, only without the frightening surprise ending.

Having spent a great deal of my time growing up in Texas, I did not tend to much identify with any specific aspect of the work, as some critics have praised. It almost seemed mundane. Texas twists on others' styles do not, to me, constitute good works of literature. Perhaps a more colorful use of language could do Harris some good in future writings.

But, to her further credit, her imagination does not seem to be a shortcoming. I expect more outlandish works from this author.

Hilliard and Miller do little more than compile an itty-bitty picture booklet of mediocre, vacation-quality photographs of southern Spanish homes, and tout the whole mess "a book on style." Commentary was utterly lacking, and what the authors did include was pseudo-arty and condescending. If I had been able to browse this book at a real bookstore, I never would have bought it, especially at the full price. This book's only value is in teaching the lesson that the online bookshopping experience can mislead the unwary buyer into making a purchase she or he will regret. Read the reviews, and review books you buy! As for this piece of trash, save your money for a REAL book, not a pretend... one like this is.

I have to agree with the previous comment, and i gave the book one more star because fortunately i found the book heavily discounted and did not have to pay the inflated list price. The photos are nice, but this doesn't even qualify as a coffee table book (it's too small). The author seemingly hanged out in Southern Spain visiting her bohemian friends and acquaintances and taking many pretty photos. The commentary is quite lame, and the author has a slight pontificating tone when detailing the Spanish decorating styles. I think it was George Bernard Shaw who said that generalization is the prerogative of the weak of mind, or something to that effect. The author falls under that category when stating that the new generations of Spaniards would rather go for plastic, vinyl and Formica and get rid of old, moth-ridden furniture. In her visit to Spain she obviously did not visit any of the multiple antique stores in any major city. Had she seen the prices that some of those moth-ridden pieces of junk command, and in the unlikely event she understands the laws of offer and demand, maybe she would have refrained from making such a blanket statement.

Anyway, this is a superficial book, certainly not worth the list price.

I am a historian and archaeology buff, and longtime fan of John Romer's works. I anxiously awaited this book, and was horribly disappointed once I got into it. This is not really a history of archaeology, but Romer's thoughts on certain archaeologists and digs, or his leftover notes from earlier books. It skips about in time and locale to such an extent that almost any chapter can be read alone, and the book can be read in any order. Romer totally omits any mention of Marine Archaeology, despite its enormous significance over the past 20 years. Worse, there are factual errors. For example, the modern Olympic Games of 1900 took place in Paris, not Athens, which hosted the first games in 1896 (p. 180). Moreover, neither tennis courts nor swimming pools were built for the 1896 Games. The tennis took place at a club in Athens and the swimmers competed in the ocean, where several quit due to the extreme cold. Most disappointing to me, Romer's usually lilting prose is absent much of the time. There are all manner of grammar and syntax errors. For example, on page 198 "...then converted to an opera house in the nineteenth century whose acoustics were said to be the best in Europe." He has Henirich Schliemann rushing "hither and thither" about Mycenae on page 110 and again on 111. Both style and format are distracting, making it hard to follow. This could have been a fabulous book, but it is not, and certainly not worth the price!