"Ford: The Men and the Machine" is the most definitive and complete book about the life and happenings of automotive's greatest man, Henry Ford. His accomplishments as cited cannot compare to any other single figure in automobile history (or even business itself).

The book is nothing short of epic: over 800 pages and 36 chapters, plus appendices. It starts off with the author's assessment of Ford's total contribution to life, starting at Dearborn Michigan in 1831. The details are all-inclusive and mind boggling, right down to Henry's Sister's comments about his early days repairing watches. The book moves slowly and steadily through Part One, "The Rise of Henry Ford" to Parts Two and Three, "Glory Days" and "Grass-Roots Hero." Here the reader is given the unbiased account of even the thoughts of young Henry, and how he became so fascinated with what was then the latest thing: the gasoline engine, which he saw in 1877 from a trip to Machinery Hall in Philadelphia. We are given the full story behind Ford's rise to power over other prominent automotive men of his time, such as the Duryea and the Dodge Bros., and particularly Henry Selden. I found it exciting to read about how Ford didn't give in to a greedy, money-hungry individual like Selden who had no real engineering talent, but wanted only to rake in the royalties from his so-called gasoline engine that he patented in 1895 (it didn't even work as illustrated in his diagram, and Selden didn't even have a working model in an automobile until 1904--it went five yards and died!). Ford held out through more than 10 years of court battles over the legal implications of the Selden patent, and won. After that, there was no doubt that Ford had firmly established himself as a "man for the people." The victory over the Selden patent allowed ALL automobile manufacturers to keep their prices affordable.

Part Four, "Henry and Edsel" describes the business relationship with his firstborn son, and their occasional public disputes over company policies and overall business strategies. Henry bitterly opposed automoible financing, for example, but Edsel was all for it. Edsel was right, too, it was the only way to sell cars to lower-income buyers. Of course, the whole story behind the biggest flop in automotive history, the Edsel car itself, is revealed. What happened? How much money was lost? What were the shortcomings of the Edsel that ultimately was its demise? "...The Men and the Machine" will tell you, without room for doubts.

In fact, as part of the research I'm doing for an automotive book of my own, I noticed at least three other authors in my bibliography that referenced this same book, perhaps Lacey's greatest achievement.

Parts 5 and 6, "Henry II" and "Henry and Lee" gradually move more away from the business side of the Ford Machine--but not altogether away--and gradually reveal personal aspects of later Ford generations and their family relationships. Discussed are the development and marketing plans of the Mustang and Pinto which, ironically, were diametrically opposed to each other as complete success and utter failure.

This book is worth double the money. Sometimes I am amazed at the length Lacey went to get his sources, over 50 pages of specific and varied references. I feel fortunate to have a copy that is in good shape. Every time I open the pages, I learn something new. Each page informs, educates and increases depth of thinking, in that sometimes what appears to be a single invention is only a hub to other spokes of development. "...the men and the Machine" actually helps me to think better overall. I can then apply the underlying techniques to all situations in life; consider that one thing leads to another, and if this happens, then it will affect that and that, and so on. If you have even the slightest interest in automotive development, automobile history, American Culture or the person of Henry Ford himself, do not be without this book. Buy it today. My highest recommendation for all readers over 14 (reading level).

For those who want the dish on one of the most dominant yet dysfunctional American family businesses, Robert Lacey's profile of the Ford Motor Company is a must. It's plot is pure Movie-Of-The-Week - a country boy inspired to build a cheap car for the masses, accrues wealth and fame, then has to deal with the giant he created. His lone son, the second generation gives his life for the company, a casualty of the tug of war between a patriarch and his ego. Just as the company is about to crash in corruption and incompetence, the grandson, Henry II enters and saves the day, building the infrastructure of a modern corporation. But, eventually Henry's hat changes from white to shades of grey - the pitfalls of arrogance from never ending riches and successes. It's 650 pages of American history and soap opera, and it was so interesting it could have been longer. A great book for those who appreciate American motoring history. - Leila Dunbar, Mobilia.com

I bought this book for mt 981/2 year old cousin. She is just 6 months younger. My cousin is not in good health now bur is a great admirer of the older generation of the family. This book brought a big smile to her face, when she saw the cover. Made her day, Thanks for the book. You made someone very happy.

This book has a great deal of detail. I feel as if there was too much emphasis on her sex life versus her screen image, and frankly that was her business, not important in the book. Otherwise a good book.

I wanted to know all about the men in Grace Kelley's life, both before and after her marriage. This book told me everything, but in a classy, well-researched way. I learned a lot about Monaco, and just the things I would have wanted to know about her family members, too. After reading this excellent book, I plan to read more of Robert Lacey's works.

'Grace' tells the life story of Princess Grace of Monaco, formerly the movie star Grace Kelly. It seems Grace had some problems adjusting to royalty, including the fact that her mother-in-law, Princess Charlotte, despised her. But as years went by, it seems Grace and Rainier became closer. The fact that Rainier is still a widower and always poses for pictures in front of her portrait shows he will always love her!

Robert Lacey's book is a well-researched book that gives valuable insights into the history of Saudi Arabia and the mindset of its ruling family. Unfortunately, it lacks critical distance and paints an overly flattering portrait of the House of Saud, and should be balanced by reading Said K. Aburish's "The Rise, Corruption and Coming Fall of the House of Saud".

My father worked with the USSR in the 70s and Saudi Arabia in the 80s, and he told me Saudi Arabia was the most stifling place he ever was in, even worse than communist Russia (this is not anti-muslim bigotry, by the way, I am one myself).

A lot has changed since this book was written, due to demographic pressure and the collapse of the oil-driven welfare state after Gulf War I, so this book should be used mostly as a reference for the period before 1980.

I'm not in a position to judge the quality of Lacey's data because I have no other books on Saudi Arabia. (Daniel Yergin's oil epic The Prize, though indispensable, is also out of date.) I find this book very entertaining to read. But in any case Lacey ought to consider writing an updated edition. With war looming on the horizon, terrorists coming from this country, and oil prices so unstable (partly due to Venezuela) we badly need to know more about this fascinating country. Saudi Arabia is a good deal more important than most countries. In particular the personalities of Crown Prince Abdullah and Defense Minister Prince Sultan need to be dwellt upon in more detail. We also need more info on the politics and economics of Saudi oil.

It reads like a novel, but it's history.

Abdul Aziz did for Saudi Arabia what George Washington and Thomas Jefferson did for the United States. Despite his personal flaws and his Wahabism, he deserved admiration and respect.

You're in for a treat if you can get your hands on this book.

I had always loved Ralegh's poetry, I fell enamored of the fictional account of his life entitled "Death of a Fox" by George Garrett some 30 odd years ago, but had never really comprehended the sweep of Ralegh's life. In his own way, according to Lacey, Ralegh's household became almost the equivalent of our Jet Propulsion Laboratory, Draper Labs, or even NASA. The story about the cloak and Elizabeth is true, but the depth of his love for his wife was new to me.

Fascinating, well-written book. Truly fascinating man.

Like his later compatriate Sir Winston Churchill, Sir Walter Ralegh is one of those historical figures about whom virtually everyone knows something. From the old yarn about cloaks and puddles (though this actually happened), to his sponsorship of the tobacco industry (this happened too), to his tragic expedition to the Orinoco, Ralegh lore is a recurring theme in school history classes on both sides of the Atlantic. Lacey's great achievement is to blend these facets of his life seamlessly with the other, less familiar, episodes. One of the most interesting revelations is that for all the early and mid-life glories of his Elizabethan years - the poetry, the daring exploits and bon mots - his "finest hour" was in adversity, when (under sentence of death in the Tower) he wrote his brilliant multi-volume "History of the World." This is one of those rare biographies (Carlo D'Este's "Patton" comes to mind as another) where the reader is completely absorbed into the subject's mind and world.

To write a biography of a man with as much vitality and variety as Ralegh would seem at first sight a daunting task for any author: however well the tale is told, it will pale beside the real life exploits of this, the most remarkable of Englishmen.

The success of Robert Lacey's account is largely due to the way he reflects the multifaceted nature of his subject in the book's structure. There are some 50 chapters, divided into seven sections, each charting the ups and downs of Ralegh's uniquely chequered career. From country upstart to royal favourite, from privateer to traitor in the Tower, his life was never still - a continuum of change within a world that was constantly reassessing itself.

It is above all an account of a man who was almost uniquely human: capable of immense bravery and ingenuity, creativity and arrogance, one moment acquitting himself with a rare brilliance, the next with sublime recklessness. Ralegh was the epitome of man, warts and all, and a man who struggled daily to achieve ends that were destined to lie forever beyond him, whether they were glories of the gold of El Dorado or the love of his virgin Queen.

Far from being a trip down the honeysuckled lane of nostalgia, this is a book that is uniquely relevant to the present day. Many readers will be aware of the legends of Ralegh's bejewelled cloak, or acquainted with verses of his gilded poetry; many more will be surprised to learn that he was the founding father of the British colony, and that his experiments in Munster, Virginia and Guyana led directly to the vast empire that was only a couple of centuries later to cover one third of the globe. Yet he was in his explorations and expeditions a great philanthropist, and his treatment of the local inhabitants in the Americas was to earn him a respect that lasted many generations, as opposed to the legacy of mistrust and hatred that the Spanish pioneers engendered.

Ralegh was a man whose talents and faults, when fuelled by his rare energy, shone like beacons. He lived the kind of life that most of us only dream of, and few can live up to. Lacey's greatest achievement is never to lapse into the kind of starry-eyed hero-worshipping that often accompanies biographies of remarkable men. It is a profoundly moving book, particularly in its final chapters, when the voice of Ralegh in his final speech before his execution is allowed to resonate down the years with few embellishments and, as such, is all the more powerful. The book is a testament to the unique powers of one man: the man, to the powers that lie within us all.

This is a brief but entertaining and convincing argument for the artistic value of one of the most unfairly condemended media outlets -- television. Working from the hypothesis that the quirky dramas that dominated television from the '70s to the '90s (Hill Street Blues, St. Elsewhere, thirtysomething, ect.) actually made up television's second golden age, author Robert J. Thompson actually makes a pretty good argument for taking TV seriously. Each chapter provides detailed (and refreshingly witty) analysis of all the TV shows that we previously took for granted and shows how the writers and producers of those shows were able to create great art in the guise of great entertainment. Of particular worth was Thompson's long and informative chapter on St. Elsewhere, over the course of which he manages to break down a few of that show's intricate inside jokes and show how the show's controversial final episode actually served as a powerful and still-relavent statement on the state of television and American culture today. This book is a must read for anyone who sees television as more than just a distraction.

The title of this book is provocative but something of a serious misnomer. Robert J. Thompson points out early on that the original "Golden Age of Television" took place in the Fifties and was built on the variety shows like "Texaco Star Theater" and "Your Show of Shows," the anthology dramas like "Playhouse 90" and "Studio One," and, of course, "I Love Lucy." Thompson also acknowledges that in the Seventies the situation comedy reached its "literate peak" with "The Mary Tyler Moore Show," "All in the Family," and "M*A*S*H." However, the argument for "Television's Second Golden Age: From 'Hill Street Blues' to 'ER'" covers a period from HSB's debute in 1981 to the present, where "ER" continues to be one of the top dramas on television. That is a period of more than two decades and while Thompson devotes a chapter to "The Second Golden Age of Television: "Cagney & Lacy," "Moonlighting," "L.A. Law," "thirtysomething," and "China Beach," essentially focusing on the Eighties, it is hard to say that the following decade, with "Twin Peaks," "Northern Exposure," "Picket Fences," "NYPD Blue," "Law & Order," "Homicide," "The X-Files," "Chicago Hope," and "ER" was not at least as strong (feel free to add to the list). Even if we are talking about the first decade of the 21st century we have "Buffy the Vampire Slayer," "24," "The Practice," "Ally McBeal" and short-lived series like "My So Called Life" and "Once and Again" (and that is without dipping over to HBO and talking about "The Sopranos," "Six Feet Under," and the rest of their kind), all of which speak to quality dramatic programming.

That is why in the final analysis I see Thompson's argument as being not so much for a specific time period of great television, but rather advancing the proposition that the hour-long dramatic television series is the chief art form of the medium (yes, even more so than the situation comedy). I would even extend this argument to the mini-series, from "Roots" and "Shogun" to "War and Remembrance" and "Lonesome Dove," because the guiding principle of the extended narrative form remains the common denominator. "24" takes the idea of season-long story arc a unique extreme, but "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" did all of its complete seasons have a first-half story arc (e.g., Spike & Dru in Season 2) that then merged with a second-half story arc (e.g., the return of Angelus) that provided a framework for all of the individual episodes. Then there was "Murder One," which rather successfully devoted an entire season to one sensational murder trial. When a series loses its driving story arc, as when Dave and Maddie consummated their love on "Moonlighting," or when what was supposed to be the hook becomes the line and sinker as well, as when the question of who killed Laura Palmer ultimately derailed "Twin Peaks," the demise of the show simply affirms the principle in the negative.

Thompson's starting point is January 1981 when prime-time television was about to make a sudden and dramatic turn towards quality because of "Hill Street Blues," the show that Steven Bocho did not want to make and that nobody wanted to watch, but which became "television's first true masterpiece." However, Thompson argues that it was "St. Elsewhere" that was "TV's greatest show, ever" (having to do with key notions of "intertextuality" and "self-reflexivity"). Ultimately he is not defining a particular time period (especially since the "golden age" in question is clearly not over), but explaining why in the "vast wasteland" that Newton Minnow bemoaned so many years ago "quality" television is flourishing in terms of hour-long dramatic programming. Within that context Thompson clearly makes his case for much of the best television ever made having appeared on the networks since 1980. The book is half critical evaluation of these programs and half insider's tour looking at the decision-making process as well as the social, economic, and artistic forces that ended up revolutionizing the medium. Thompson also more than adequately proves he knows his television history, which is necessary to help convince those of us who are true students of the medium. Consequently, the fact that the title of this book is not a fair representation of its most significant claim, is not to be held against the author, because he has made in public an argument I have been making in private (okay, in class as well), for several years.

It's all too easy to assume that simply because we vegetate in front of the TV all day, that we have some kind of understanding of its history and how it works. This book summarises the importance of several landmark shows of the 1980s and 1990s, helping to show how a few select producers (chiefly refugees from The Mary Tyler Moore Show) were able to transform the quality of television, at least for a while. Note that the shows are discussed in their American context -- British viewers may be surprised to hear that anything was innovative about the "MASH without the laughter track", because MASH was always broadcast in the UK without a laughter track. But for placing the history of American TV in its natural home habitat, this remains an important and interesting introduction to quality television.

Who would have thought that the upright, high class and very proper world of high class auctions was really a swamp of scams and cheats. I actually thought that the dust jacket with it's Kitty Kelly type tabloid write up was just a way to get the average reader to pick the book up - - who would have thought that the lead up was only the tip of the iceberg. This book had just a ton of super rich people getting scammed, cheated and fighting over the artwork that these auction houses are selling. I think everybody of normal means takes a guilty pleasure in watching a super rich person take it in the shorts and this book details a few of them plus a nice history of the high class auction world.

The book provides a detailed account of the start and rise of the Sotheby's auction house. The author has also through in a good amount of detail of the art objects that are being sold - at times this made the book drag a bit for me, but it was required given that was the underling currency of the business. He does a good job of teaching the reader how the process works and what went into the history of creating the process. We even get a good amount of gossip that is written in a way that makes you feel ok about reading tabloid filler.

The book starts out with the Jackie Kennedy auction and who bought what. He really makes these people out to be less then inteligent, so much so you wonder how they made their money at all. We also get a good amount of detail on the massive amounts that were paid for artwork in the 90'' and what has happened to them, and a nice detailed account how Sotheby's "Makes the Market" on the items. If it were the securities industry they would be in jail. Overall this is an interesting and fun book to read that will take you no time at all to complete.

Lacey has produced a well-written expose on the hidden world of auctioneering and art. However, the snobbery (and bigotry) that he goes out of his way to illustrate seems to leak into his prose. I almost fell out of my chair when he compared the appearance of one of the Sotheby's directors to that of a "Red Indian" and the numerous references to who was Jewish and who wasn't goes above and beyond pointing out the anti-semitism inherent in the WASP dominated art world. That said, I did find much of the restructuring of the company in the 80s and 90s to be very interesting from a business standpoint and Lacey does draw compelling characters (and he has plenty to draw from).

The title of the review is from the prologue, which is worth the cost of the book on its own, unless you happened to attend or actually buy at the Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis auction. The Author's scathing commentary on those who bought virtually anything at that event are quick witted, very funny, and pathetic. How else do you describe those who would spend $211,500 for a $100 set of fake pearls, or how about a small cigar humidor for $574,500, or perhaps the most ridiculous of all, which requires it's own explanation.

One of Sotheby's staff found 11 tiny diamonds that had fallen from a piece of jewelry; a fair price would have been about $550. As you will learn, auction houses are nothing if not adept at being creative, whether with their accounting, or what something actually sells for, presuming it even has been sold to someone with a heartbeat. Well they took these bits of nothing, arranged them in a letter "J" and someone who I hope will never have any decision making power over my life, or anyone at Amazon, paid $17,250 for something that Sotheby's could not even claim Mrs. Onassis ever saw, touched, or knew they were hidden in the lining of a jewelry box.

The Auctioneer could not keep a straight face when just the irons from JFK'S golf clubs sold for $387,500 and the woods for $772,500. As the Author noted it takes two bidders "to make a crazy price" and the winning gentlemen in this case was Mr. Arnold Schwarzenegger. I would have thought an extended family discount would have been in order.

The book is a great read for the history of the auction business, and of Sotheby's and Christie's in particular. The business they engage in has been for 250 years, "cultivating the paradox that rich people, at heart, are the neediest people of all". While the owners of these houses take the money seriously, even they speak of the contradiction that is at the heart of their business, they go to person "A" and explain you must sell now, as the market is at its peak for your object, and then pick up the other phone line and explain to person "B" that the opportunity of a lifetime is at hand.

Deception is a key to the process, no bids? pretend there are, this is called taking bids from the "Chandelier". This of course is done until the reserve is met, and some victim, i.e. client, thinks the bidding is real, and starts offering his or her own money.

You may perhaps remember those astronomical prices paid for impressionist paintings up until 1990. They have become the symbol, along with Rockefeller Center and other purchases, as examples of the Japanese economic bubble that exploded so famously. There were 20 Japanese buyers that spent from $22 million to over $100 million during the art boom of 1984-1992. Seventeen of the same twenty were to find themselves either in jail, bankrupt, or under "serious investigation".

As to the "record" prices that were paid, Mr. Saito Ryoei paid the "record" for van Gogh's "Portrait Of Dr. Gachet" at $82,500,000.00. A few nights later, possibly feeling the pinch from such extravagance, he paid the second highest number ever of $78,100,000.00 for Renoir's "Au Moulin de la Galette". But can these be considered records when both paintings were taken back in repossession?

Not to dwell, let's skip to the third "highest" price ever paid. Mr. Alan Bond paid $53,900,000.00 for van Gogh's "Irises", in 1989. Oops sorry, Sotheby's actually financed half the purchase, giving Mr. Bond the incentive to bid ever higher, which gave Sotheby's and even bigger commission as they take their piece from the selling price, so the higher the better. And like the paintings of his Japanese counterpart, this painting too was repossessed.

One has to wonder how these people ever managed to make or keep a dime. For how else does one explain a couple who paid (please sit down) $29,900.00 for a small box that was alleged to hold a piece of wedding cake of The Duke And Duchess of Windsor. How many decades before the cake would vanish, perhaps it fossilized? The couple claimed they were never going to open the box. The real question is, what difference would it make?

The book is a great read, and for those who appeared foolish, they have only themselves to blame together with the fact that the Auction business is not one known for honesty, as Sotheby's found out when they were recorded smuggling a painting, but that's another book.

There is no question that if a person has the means they can spend as they like. At some point I would suggest it would be rather difficult to look in the mirror without feeling the fool. Much of the money spent at auctions is thrown away not invested. And as far as utility, the inflating of an ego is not much of an accomplishment, legacy, or a deed well done.

I am a newcomer to the life of this amazing English king, but this book has been truly fascinating. Well written, informative, and easy to read, I recommend Mrs. Fraser's book to anyone who wants to start learning about Henry. For an expert on the subject, this is probably too basic for you.

The authors have written an interesting and timely book. I liked all of the factoids and descriptions they gave about life one thousand years ago in England. Fascinating to see how our ancestors did it (life) facing challenges we have long ago conquored. The organization of the book tends to break up the narrative. It is mildly annoying in places, as are comparisons to current news that will, unfortunately quickly make this book look dated. This situation is caused by the author's using a period calendar as a backdrop to their story and organizing the book around the twelve months of the year and the seasonal activities of the Anglo-Saxons under study.

A quick read and overall enjoyable.

I've recently developed an interest in medieval history and happened upon this book in the library. There's nothing earthshaking here, but it's nevertheless a good read for those, like me, who have a general interest in history, particulary the history of the British Isles.

Many history books focus solely on the goings-on of the King, the Queen, the major nobles and the court--they give us no picture of the lives of everyday people. The authors of this book give us nice picture of what everyday people lived like 1000 years ago. There are even a few surprises that overcame some of my misconceptions.

If you're a professional historian (i.e., you like pedantry more than readability), you'll probably hate this book. On the other hand, if you are looking for a short, illuminating look at life at the beginning of the last millenium, I think you'll enjoy this one.

The book is written by journalists, not historians, and that in itself makes it all the more valuable for the general reader. Alas, too many historians write for other historians, and their prose is so stilted and dry as to be unreadable. But this book is a joy to read. Using the Julius Calendar as a device to introduce us to the everyday life of Anglo-Saxons in England in the years leading up to the first millennium, the authors present us with a perfect picture of what life must have been like on a seasonal basis, from January through December. I highly recommend this book to readers interested in the social history of that period who do not wish to wade through a thousand pages of scholarly boredom.

After I read this book I couldn't help but smile. This is the ultimate whitewash book. After having spent years of investigating Meyer Lansky and his criminal world, I can honsetly tell you, this is not a book about Meyer Lansky. This is a book about Robert Lacey misunderstanding Meyer Lansky. Laceys information comes mostly from Lanskys family, then especially from his disabled son, Buddy Lansky. What Lacey should've done is look more into the work Hank Messick did on Lansky. Messick got his information from the underworld itself and interviewed gangsters, prosecutors and FBI men. Lacey overlooks these sources. Let's be realistic here. Lacey claims Lansky poured all his money into The Riviera Hotel in Havana. This is a ridiclious claim!. Lansky was known to spread his money all over the place. His specialty was laundering mafia money through mob controlled banks (like Bank Of World Commerce) or through Swiss bank accounts. Lansky had used these methods since the '30s. He made a fortune from his bootlegging enterprises and it is well known Lansky skimmed more money from Vegas then probably any other mob figure. Top mafia informant, Jimmy "The Weasel" Fratianno, one-time underboss of the L.A. Cosa Nostra Family repeatedly emphasized Lanskys strong hold on the skimming in Vegas. "Meyer Lansky and his group skimmed more money then anybody in the world. From Las Vegas alone, they got 300 million easy!". That's a direct quote from Fratianno himself. Of course Lansky wasn't stupid and he would have many people believe that he indeed lost everything in Cuba. Hank Messick used to say, Meyer Lansky didn't own property, he owned people. And as far as the mystery surrounding Lansky, you have to look at the people around him. Appearantly men like Alvin Malnik missed Laceys eye. If you wanna know about Lansky, then read Hank Messick or "Mogul Of The Mob" by Uri Dan and Dennis Eisenberg.

According to the acknowledgements, Robert Lacey set out to write a biography about a monster and ended up writing about a more successful than average crook with a lot of family troubles. While there is still the "crime doesn't pay" moralizing, Lacey is too honest of a biographer to fall into the Kefauver conspiracy theory about the mob as a vast corporate entity and portrays Meyer Lansky and associates as business allies by convenience.

Most of the book seems to have been culled from interviews with Buddy Lansky, Meyer Lanksy's quadraplegic son who died shortly before publication. From that perspective most of Lansky's life involves his personal life including his fights with his first (insane) wife and his relationship with his second wife hated by all three children. There are anecdotes about his rebellious daughter Sandra, his emotionally crippled son Paul and his physically crippled son Buddy. In one of the anecdotes Paul's daughter, Myra Lansky, tries to contact him after 8 years of silence only to be told by Sandra to respect Paul's privacy. (like a father has a right to completely ignore and forget about his children). Another anecdote concerns the fact that Meyer blamed Buddy's wife for his financial troubles and Buddy told his wife "my dad thinks we should get a divorce" and on that alone, divorced her.

What comes out of this book is a miserable life of a guy who was a fighter all his life and didn't have enough business sense to go straight. All of his investments ultimately failed and his legal troubles ate up all of his money. He couldn't even emigrate to Israel when he rediscovered his Jewish roots.

While we are left with a sad portrait of Meyer Lansky's personal life there seems to be fairly light treatment of his professional life. Some of the gambling institutions are covered and there is a chapter on the Cuban connection but once we are in the last two decades it's all heart attacks and fights with the second wife. One feels slightly cheated even though the author makes a point to stress that Meyer Lansky was not as financial successful as the myths around him would have you believe ("bigger than U.S. Steel, $300 million, etc.) but he did somehow find the money to pay for that lawyer and those trips to Israel.

Toward the end this becomes a depressing grim book. The only point of gaiety is Meyer and all his friends sitting around tv watching a miniseries based on his exploits.

All in all this is an excellent gangster novel for anyone who wants a more truthful accounting of mob life in America. However, if these truths were discovered at the outset, the myth of Meyer Lansky would not have grown to the extent that books like this would need to be written. It's not as fun as the mythology, but then again that's the point.

If you want a mob book that buys into the conspiracy and mythology check out The Last Testament of Lucky Luciano.

A really important work that strips mercilessly away many of the hoary myths that have stuck barnacle-like to the subject of American organized crime. The tale that emerges is no less gripping for that; Indeed the struggles personal and financial that dogged this less than omnipotent Lansky become all the more compelling and human. This is not a reading that finds total acceptance, and time and the inherent shadow-dwelling of organized crime mean that the absolute truth will never be nailed down, but Lacey's conclusions (that the post-Kefauver view of the Mafia as a coherent, nationally structured organization with Lansky the criminal mastermind at the centre of events, his overseas bank accounts overflowing with untouchable millions is simply not sustainable), the product of good research and common sense, are hard to refute. A tendancy to chide Lansky for not taking the turns in life that Lacey (probably erroneously) believes were open to him is one slight irritant, but that apart the book is an essential step in restoring balance to accounts of the Mafia's wealth, power, indestructability and even existence as popularly held. No more talk of $300 million!