Sir William Johnson was a loyal subject of the British crown. Yet his contribution to what is now the United States of America is little known or appreciated as it ought to be, most likely because he was a loyalist. Without his contribution to the British victory over France in North America, the United States simply would not exist. Flexner provides us with a biography of this man that avoids the pitfalls of some of the exagerated Johnson legends by careful historical research.

From the complicated family life of a man who never married his children's mothers, to his intricate involvement and dealings with the Iroquis Confederacy that held that Confederacy to the British side, Flexner presents a fascinating story of a side of American history many Americans are probably not aware of. You can not fully understand and appreciate American history without knowing about Sir William Johnson.

In order to become more well-rounded in his studies of physics, Chadwick went to Germany before the outbreak of the first world war and was locked up as an enemy of the Germans when the war came. The total breakdown in the existing order of things might help explain why the British were so keen on finding the subatomic particle structure of matter. The previous discovery of the mass and charge of an electron and experiments with radium, which naturally decays, had indicated that atoms might be capable of being broken into smaller parts. The discovery of the neutron in 1932 paved the way for experiments in chain reactions in which neutrons, which were the products of splitting atoms, were used to split other atoms. The powers which have had uses for this knowledge have been so quick to put it to use that it is still considered a great secret from anyone that isn't a member in good standing of their club. This book may be read as a description of the life of a man who was a member of the club before anyone knew that there was a club. About the earliest sign in the book that some kind of club was being formed was when Chadwick obtained some German radioactive toothpaste, for people who need to have teeth that glow in the dark, and tried to figure out what was in it during World War One.

I find "Redgauntlet" one of the less satisfactory novels in the Waverley series. Certainly, it has the local flavor, the dialect, the imaginative description of evocative landscapes all his novels have, but it is not a blast as some of the others are. The plot involves a fictitious third Jacobite rebellion, and it is interesting to see how Scott (especially in the notes from the Magnum edition, included in this edition) argues this time not for the historicity but for the historical probability of the events described. While Scott is often hailed as the inventor of the historical novel, "Redgauntlet" also shows him to be a forerunner in the historically probable novel--a genre practiced to great effect by our present-day history buff, Umberto Eco.

But probability alone does not a great novel make. Darsie Latimer's character is even less probable than his semi-historical counterparts, such as Edmund Waverley and Henry Morton. And this is strange, since moving further into fictionality, one could argue, a writer might allow themselves more latitude to make a character interesting, even if certain circumstances remain historical. Is this a conscious effort on Scott's part to show, after the fictionality of history, the fictionality of fiction?

Scott disturbs narrative conventions even further when the conspiracy against the Hanoverian King George III completely fails to materialize--ironically, for what seems to be the silliest of reasons: the Pretender (or the Chevalier if you're a Jacobite), Charles Stuart, refuses to give up his mistress. Thus, the main plot of the novel sizzles out and really not much happens in these 400 pages. Mind you, I personally don't need much to happen, but the 19th century novel did. Scott as a postmodern writer? That is pushing it too far, but this novel awaits a postmodern critique enlightened by a reading of Eco and Bakhtin.

That said, there are some really interesting things going on. Apart from the "regular" set of characters of Scott's Scottish novels, this one features an orthodox Quaker who is the epitome of anti-militant mercantilism. The form is also quite new for Scott--the novel is an epistolary, a set of letters between Darsie Latimer and his friend Alan Fairford. Thus, the novel's first-person point of view is split, and this provides for interesting contrasts.

For me, Scott sort of shot himself in the foot with this novel. His earlier novels ("Redgauntlet" is the last of the Scottish novels, written eight years before his death) lead one to expect a major action to happen before the denouement, and this one avoids that a bit too artificially. It seems that Scott was at pains to stick to history, and his own political convictions, a bit too much: a fictitious Jacobite rebellion is OK as a narrative vehicle, but it shouldn't interfere with the peaceful Great Britain (in which Scotland was in many respects subsidiary to England) that Scott himself inhabited and advocated. And so narrative excitement has to give way to Scott's pacifist politics--an honest choice, which Scott consistently maintains in all the Waverley novels--and character development and politics take precedent.

A final note: Scott has always proven himself a masterful and honest critic of royalty and nobility, especially of those characters he seems to love. "Waverley"'s Mac-Ivor is chastised for his political obstinacy, in "The Fortunes of Nigel" King James I (a Scot) is rebuked for his fickleness and corruption, and in "Redgauntlet" the formerly charismatic Stuart proves effeminate and tragic (dying an impoverished alcoholic, in the footnotes). And often enough, these tragic characters are of more interest than the somewhat ineffectual and sometimes foolish main characters: something for readers of literature to sink their teeth into.

I read the book The Sorcerer of Kings, by Dr. Stein, and have a few comments on it. First of all I found the book very didactic and well organized. It also provides a good source of bibliography for those interested in spiritualism. Some passages are even comic, when you imagine someone in a scene trying to grab a spirit.!

However, in my opinion, the book is highly biased to prove that William Crookes was a fraud. Actually, right from the foreword (by James Randi) one can feel that. The author should rather present the facts, and let the conclusion to the reader. In a book of this sort this is an unforgivable mistake, just because the author tries to show that William Crookes was himself biased to accept spiritual reality.

I feel extremely uneasy to accept that William Crookes was a fraud (being this the main conclusion of the author). At the beginning of the book he appears simply stupid, an easy-to-fool person. His character then slightly changes from stupidity to quackery, which is of course a heavy charge over such a scientific personality. If he was a fraud as a spiritualist investigator, I cannot see why he would be so serious and brilliant as a scientist (before and after those years of spiritualism). I simply can't accept that. I cannot accept either he could have been fooled over and over by the mediums he tested.

So, in my opinion, remains the mystery about Sir William Crookes. I tend to believe that he died convinced about some of the phenomena he investigated, but felt not worth continuing his research, simply because the scientific community wouldn't accept that, and because he had detected trickery in many cases. The book of Dr. Stein does not prove "the truth" about him. Nevertheless, it is a book worth reading by those interested in spiritualism, in general, and in William Crookes.

I.S. Oliveira - Physicist, Ph.D. Oxford/1993

This was a moderately interesting real-life account of a British sea captain contemporaneous with the Hornblower books. As such, it makes for an interesting comparison between fact and fiction, and, as the author says, sometimes the former is even more extraordinary than the latter.

The author doesn't fully prove his case that Hornblower was based on Gordon, though there are some striking parallels. The most notable one is that Gordon came up the Chesapeake as a commodore with a small fleet very similar to the one that Hornblower led into the Baltic. (What the author finds suspicious is that Forester wrote a naval history of this period that glosses over this incident, perhaps due to the similarities with Hornblower.) The author uses footnotes and an introduction to point out other points of commonality.

As I said, moderately interesting, particularly to a Hornblower reader, but not particularly a page-turner.

"The Real Hornblower" is a surprisingly in-depth book following and examining the life of Admiral Sir James Gordon. Perrett has obviously researched Gordon under a microscope, as there is very few sections of his life that are not covered. The book begins with a short examination of C. S. Forester, and his creation of Horatio Hornblower, and then delves into Gordon's life, through newpaper articals, personal letters, ship logs, and Gordon's own unpublished auto-biography. In addition to following Gordon, Perrett gives a very acurate historical account of the wars and politics (which revolve around the European and American naval fleets) during the time that Gordon was alive, make this an excellent naval history or reference book as well. For anyone who has read C. S. Forester's series on Horatio Hornblower, this book is an excellent supplement, allowing you to see a different side of 'Hornblower' in Admiral Sir James Gordon.

An elementary familiarity with pre-Christian classical (and other) mythology would show that virtually every attempt to
to de-bunk Frazer's claims, must be seriously flawed. Frazer did not see himself as an 'iconoclast,' he merely wished to point out that archetypally - the Christian'mythos' of the 'god-man' being sacrificed upon a tree - was not a new event, symbolically, however unique the Christian 'mythos' may be to its followers - it had its antecedents. Taken in a Jungian sense, this need not be seen as a weakening of the Christian mythos, but may even strengthen it, insofar as it confirms the existence of archetypal patterns and determinants in consciousness - transcending dogmatic claims made in the name of any one determinant, just as they transcend rationalistic endeavours to reduce them to a 'nothing but.' Christianity grew out of - and was built upon classical antiquity. It is in many ways determined by it, as for instance, in celebrating the birth of Christ at the winter solstice (the shortest day of the year) symbolically, when light triumphs over darkness - in the life of nature. The true nativity of Jesus was located somewhere in January,and the Church Fathers used their wisdom, shifting it to coincide with the Saturnalia. 'Christmas' time is thoroughly pervaded with 'Pagan' symbolism, (viz. the Yule' celebrations etc.) and it is small minded and a denial of history to claim otherwise. Frazer faked nothing, which had not in a sense, already been 'faked' by the Church, because in their wisdom, the Church Fathers felt obliged to recognise the power of pre-Christian myths. Robert Graves explored the 'tree god' theme all over again with his 'King Jesus.'But anyway, why blow this single aspect of Frazer's work out of proportion. Frazer's discussion of the sacrifice of the 'tree-god' goes alongside countless other myths and myth-motifs.

Sir James Frazer is sometimes considered a brilliant iconoclast who put Christianity into anthropological perspective, exposing it as one of many dying God and virgin mother legends. In fact his scholarship was seriously flawed. This witty and erudite book is a fascinating piece of detective work, showing how and why Frazer slanted his facts