Joanna C. Scott was born in London during an air raid, was raised in Australia, is a widely published poet and author of a book about refugees in Indochina, and now lives in Hunt Valley, Baltimore County, with six children - all or part (or none) of which may explain her powerful descriptions of pain and injury and suffering in her new (and second) novel, a tale of the Vietnam War, Charlie and the Children. The protagonist is a young Texan, Charlie Lucas, who is drafted into the Army infantry after graduating from law school in D.C. and marrying the sophisticated daughter of a U.S. [sic] diplomat. In Vietnam he kills a lot of "dinks" (or "gooks") and cuts off their ears. He also marries one and has a son by her - without informing either wife of the other. Then, while out on a search-and-destroy mission, every soldier in his squad except Charlie is blown to bits by a booby trap, and he's captured by two Viet Cong "children" - as he perceives them - and imprisoned alone in a narrow tunnel. He also thinks of his captors as VCs or "Victor Charlie," which is sort of hideously ironic (since his own first name, remember, is Charlie). In the tunnel, apparently for a long time, Charlie is tormented by fear of torture, chiggers, an injured toe, rotten food, primitive hygienic facilities, flashbacks of a dead buddy's recitation of distractingly pornographic letters from home, thoughts of his American wife, hallucinations about his Vietnamese wife and son and - almost as nauseating to the reader as to the prisoner - a constant stink of blood, guts, sweat, tears, human waste, cordite, wet fungi, etc. Scott is especially good at describing odors. Charlie and the Children is a strong novel, very strong, probably too strong for the squeamish.THE STAR Democrat by John Goodspeed Friday, August 1997 Joanna C. Scott was born in London during an air raid, was raised in Australia, is a widely published poet and author of a book about refugees in Indochina, and now lives in Hunt Valley, Baltimore County, with six children - all or part (or none) of which may explain her powerful descriptions of pain and injury and suffering in her new (and second) novel, a tale of the Vietnam War, Charlie and the Children. The protagonist is a young Texan, Charlie Lucas, who is drafted into the Army infantry after graduating from law school in D.C. and marrying the sophisticated daughter of a U.S. [sic] diplomat. In Vietnam he kills a lot of "dinks" (or "gooks") and cuts off their ears. He also marries one and has a son by her - without informing either wife of the other. Then, while out on a search-and-destroy mission, every soldier in his squad except Charlie is blown to bits by a booby trap, and he's captured by two Viet Cong "children" - as he perceives them - and imprisoned alone in a narrow tunnel. He also thinks of his captors as VCs or "Victor Charlie," which is sort of hideously ironic (since his own first name, remember, is Charlie). In the tunnel, apparently for a long time, Charlie is tormented by fear of torture, chiggers, an injured toe, rotten food, primitive hygienic facilities, flashbacks of a dead buddy's recitation of distractingly pornographic letters from home, thoughts of his American wife, hallucinations about his Vietnamese wife and son and - almost as nauseating to the reader as to the prisoner - a constant stink of blood, guts, sweat, tears, human waste, cordite, wet fungi, etc. Scott is especially good at describing odors. Charlie and the Children is a strong novel, very strong, probably too strong for the squeamish.

THE CHILDREN WE FOUGHT(reviewer Stan Sirmans) How many Vietnam Veterans saw dead or captured Vietcong and thought they were just children? Many of them were. In her insightful and beautifully written first novel, Charlie and the Children, (Black Heron Press, 235 pp., $22.95), Joanna C. Scott has captured the essence of an enemy a French general referred to with disdain as "these little people." She has also portrayed the physical and mental deterioration of an American captive of the Vietcong. During the 1980's, on the Bataan Peninsula, refugees from Vietnam, Cambodia, and Laos were infused with hope as they waited acceptance by the U.S. Immigration and Naturalization Service for an American visa. It was in these camps that Scott interviewed many refugees and published their stories in Indochina's Refugee: Oral Histories from Laos, Cambodia and Vietnam (McFarland, 1989). Touched by the account of an Amerasian teenager abandoned by his U.S. Navy officer father, Scott conceived the story of Charlie. Drafted soon after he is married, Charlie Lucas arrives in Vietnam and is befriended by a second-tour veteran who teaches him how to survive. One afternoon, as Charlie and his new friend sit drinking at a sidewalk cafe, an enemy grenade explodes. Charlie rescues a young woman named Minh from the rush of the crowd and promptly falls in love with her. Although he continues to write home faithfully to his wife, Charlie marries Minh, and soon a son is born.Torn by love for his wife in the States and for Minh and his son, Charlie begins to feel trapped in a hopeless situation. He channels his emotional distress into merciless assaults against the enemy. While on patrol, his platoon is wiped out, and Charlie is captured by children in black pajamas. His captors march him deep into the jungle and place him in a dark hole inside one of their tunnels. Left alone and fed little, Charlie's body and mind deteriorate. His world becomes a series of hallucinations as he descends into despair and death approaches. The singing lilt of Scott's clear narrative reflects her background as an accomplished poet. She has peppered the story with metaphors and similes that are stunning. A medevac helicopter, carrying one of Charlie's dead platoon-mates, for example, goes ^Qsobbing its way across the treetops.' Her meticulous research is reflected in the conversations of her soldiers. They talk the language of the war. The combat scenes, too, ring true. Unlike other authors with no military background who attempt to write about war, Scott is believable. She doesn't stumble. She has crafted an unusually graceful war story that depicts the experiences of young soldiers in Vietnam. It is a prodigious feat for a writer who is not a Vietnam War veteran, and it is a reflection of her enormous talent.

Riveting . . . a heartstopper . . . yet more than just another story about war. In taking on the issue of the children soldiers leave behind, 'Charlie and the Children' transforms itself into a fable for our time. I was astonished to find myself in tears

Offers a wealth of information about traditional Vietnamese culture and society...essential reading

Stories that American have been reluctant to listen to-non-American participants' stories of the horrors of the Vietnam War itself, of escape from new but undemocratic countries, of conflict-ridden adjustment...personal details about the effects of the war...Scott's collection is prefaced by a dramatic frontispiece, a painting by a Vietnamese artist that depicts boat people on the high seas, titles "A people forced to go a dangerous drama across feats of darkness and turbulent seas in favor of freedom." Collected from Cambodians, Laotians, and Vietnamese in Philippine refugee camps in October 1985 [through] May 1 1986, these twenty-five stories are the testimonies closest in time to many of the events they describes. Scott identifies empathetically with the refugees' search for "the freedom land," as well as with those who failed to come here. In lengthy appendices, she provides maps of the Laotian reeducation camps and memorializing lists of those who have disappeared in them. Pictures of the refugees in the Philippine camps supplement the written stories. Some narratives are told by camp advisors; some are presented by "Name Withheld." While one story was given to Scott "in perfect English," others were told only through an interpreter. Scott presents her subjects' narratives entire, occasionally segmented by asterisks, with provocative titles ("The Hope of Ho Chi Minh Is Fallen Now") and with brief headnotes characterizing the individual or the historical situation. The narratives are occasionally quite long; almost all are organized chronologically... Here is Khamsamong Somvong, a former first lieutenant in the Royal Lao army: "In the seminar camp there were a few men who were Communists. They were there to execute the policy of the Politburo. And it was they who decided who should be killed in the camp. We were supposed to respect the Party only. If one of the Communists said, 'This is red,' we had to say, 'Yes, this is red.' If we said, 'No, this is black,' we would be killed. So I lived a very hard life in there. I saw many people killed before me."--Oral History Review 21/2 (Winter, 1993)

Indochina's refugees, who in jungle death camps felt the chill of the heart or saw life turn cold in crowded boats, give their harrowing stories in this collection

In this final life's work of Proust on the theme of the passage of Time it's clear that the author is riper, near to death and concerned about the lasting impact of his writing. "Eternal duration is promised no more to men's works than to men." Yet there is so much beauty and substance and lyricism in his 4,300 pages clearly his volumes are, both individually and collectively, a masterwork for the ages. The novel seems more like an autobiography in which the names of persons and places have been changed to protect the innocent (and the gulity). Because of his theme, Marcel constantly returns to the events of his life to gain some semblance of understanding of them. In this volume he is concerned with the effect of the world war upon Paris. The familiar characters of Gilberte and Bloch happily emerge again to center stage and, as always, Charlus and Morel. Because of his failing health and self-exile from society, he must have known that he had little Time to tie up all the loose ends and that another volume would not be in the offing after this one. Indeed, he never lived to see this volume in print. By virtue of his failing health the pressing nature of his last years lend a poignancy to the themes of this volume so that it stands out among the other works when Time was full of budding possibilities and had not ultimately become a dreaded adversary. In this volume Proust picks up the leitmotifs that thread their way through this remarkable tapestry in his walks down various ways and he brings them all to a meaningful end. The story lines are surprisingly simple and easy to follow and there is so much enduring value in his masterfully articulated "impressions." I decided to commit Time a few months ago to read all of Proust's work --it was Time well spent. I can't encourage you enough to make a similar investment. The work is truly a Timeless masterpiece from one of the real geniuses of his day and through it Proust has justly earned his immortality, his worthy prominence among the best literary minds of all Time.

I attach this review of Proust's cycle of novels to the last novel in the cycle because things are calmer here than over at Swann's Way. The crowd here seems to have thinned out a little. Contrary to what some reveiwers claim, plenty happens in the seven novels comprising In Search of Lost Time. Plenty happens, but it happens "over time" - as in real life. In "Marcel's" case, it's a life during which the exalted are brought low and the base are exalted. Proust's novelistic enterprise, which early-on might be dismissed as nothing more than the effete self-absorption of a Parisian dilettante who's "not worth the rope to hang him" (as one character maintains in Vol. III), turns out, by the final volume, to be a good deal grittier than first appeared.

The choice of translation matters. The older, Moncrieff translation comes across as precious and sentimental, while the newer Mayor/Enright/Kilmartin edition seems less so. Compare the title Moncrieff chose, Remembrance of Things Past, (a phrase lifted out of Shakespeare's Sonnet 30) to the literally-translated title used in the newer edition: In Search of Lost Time. Also compare, "I would ask myself what o'clock it could be" (Moncrieff) with "I would ask myself what time it could be" (Enright). Though the differences may be minor, I had a much better experience with the newer translation.

The cycle of seven novels in six volumes takes considerable TIME to read. I spent the slack year between early retirement and late graduate school reading it. Thus, I modestly propose that every American who has not already done so should quit his or her job immediately and carefully read all seven novels before proceeding any further with thier lives. Not that I'm an enthusiast. My proposal follows from an opinion that we Americans need to spend more time thinking and less time doing. That way we'd do less harm. Even so, readers should be prepared for a certain Proustian indifference to minor matters of proportion. They may find a single sentence that occupies an entire page, or a single paragraph that goes on for eight pages. A chapter of 300 or more pages may be follwed by a chapter of 25 pages. "Marcel" may go on for fifteen pages about what he experiences while trying to remember a name that's on "the tip of his tongue." But if you don't enjoy lengthy examinations of inner experiencings, you probably shouldn't be reading Proust. There were also occasional long stretches of such drek that I wanted to gag. "Marcel's" sojourn with soldiers in Doncieres in Vol. III was one such. Readers must be prepared to simply forge ahead when encountering these. It gets better.

Which leads me to Vol. VI, Time Regained, a tour de force, without a doubt. If the "tea and madeleine" segment in Swann's Way forms the left bookend for In Search of Lost Time, Time Regained forms the right one. I wouldn't want to give too much away about Proust's final volume. William Empson claimed to have expected an apocalypse and accordingly lamented (or pretended to lament) the apparent insignificance of what Proust actually provided. I'd hate to give away more than Empson did, but I think that by the final volume "Marcel's" fruitless pursuit of Madame Putbus' maid has been abandoned at last. Even the face of Mme de Guermantes, admired by "Marcel" through seven novels, has begun to resemble "nougat" with traces of verdigris and fragmentary shell-work on which grew "a little growth of an indefinable character, smaller than a mistletoe berry and less transparent than a glass bead." Volume VI shows "Marcel" at his funniest, and most misanthropic, as attached as ever to his own follies, yet as quick as ever to dissect those of his friends - a decidedly tragic vision. It made the long read worthwhile. After I finished Time Regained I went back to Vol. I and began all over again.

Alright, so I'm a cheat. I never thought I'd get beyond admiring the bright spanking six volumes of A la recherche (3700 pages! Phew!) on my bookshelves, but when it was announced that Raul Ruiz had made a film of the last book, I seized my chance. Thanks to this brilliant edition you can, because at the end is an exhaustive guide to Proust, listing every character, historical person, place and theme of the whole work, so that just by referring regularly to this you quickly catch up with what's going on. Of course this isn't the same as living with characters and events through literature, but this volume is so amazing you can't fail to want to begin the whole thing and experience them from the start.

This is, as I expected, one of the most beautiful and exciting books I have ever read, as well as one of the most frustrating and irritating. What is most surprising, for a book claimed as one of the two greatest of the century, is how old-fashioned it is (compared to the still startlingly modern and socially relevant ULYSSES).

It has two types of narrative. One, about a young middle class boy who penetrates society, is a mixture of social comedy and tortured romance familiar to anyone who has read a great Victorian novel - there is the same social analysis of an outmoded caste, wide range of characters, poetic evocation of place.

The language, once you get used to the involved, elaborate sentences, is very accessible in a Jamesian kind of way, intricately psychological and analytical, yet supremely elegant and radiant, with a verve and lightness remarkable for such a heavy book.

The translation is, for once, remarkable - it can never be the original, I guess, but you rarely feel that you are getting only half the work like you usually do.

The second half is less satisfactory. As is appropriate to a book concerned with time, the book's forward progress is constantly impeded, by degressions, flashbacks, fastforwards, explanations. The book, like those of Anthony Powell (if you loved THE DANCE TO THE MUSIC OF TIME, you'll adore this) is less straight plotting, than a series of monumental set-pieces.

This novel is 450 pages long, but has only about three events - the narrator going back to the country to stay with friends; the first world war; a huge party. These are mini-novels in themselves and are extraordinary as social observation, character comedy and amusing incident, as well as profoundly moving meditations on the inexorable power of history and old age.

Imagine the narrator has a remote control as he is walking through the film of his life. He freezes the screen every three seconds and discusses in detail the tableaux vivants before him, bending time and experience back and forwards with ease as he does so.

In between these are ruminations on the art of writing. This is a remarkably self-reflexive book, the narrator suddenly starts talking about how he came to write it, what he intended to achieve and what tools he was going to use. The volume becomes less the conclusion of a vast work than the record of its inception; you have to go back then and read it again (believe me, 3700 pages won't seem enough).

This section, a book-length manifesto, is fascinating and thrilling, but also repetitive, difficult, frustrating, and sometimes obscure - it gets in the way of the brilliant descriptive passages - the meeting with Baron de Charlus is possibly the most extraordinary thing I have read, until the remarkable coup of the closing party, where people the narrator hasn't seen for years have grown horribly old and form a grotesque, funereal fancy dress party - you want him to shut up talking about Time and impressionism and get back to the fun.

Two other things: Evelyn Waugh was wrong - Proust is hilarious, both with subtle ironies and more obvious satiric abuse; with risible character traits and wider social events.

Secondly, the narrator is not some unbearable omnisicient know-all as those of Victorian novels - he is deeply unreliable - a prig, hypocrite, voyeur, homophobic, intolerant, puritan, snob, deeply contradictory and cripplingly ill; in earlier volumes he is apparently obsessional, jealous and brutal to the point of insanity. No wonder Nabokov adored him - he is, in his ravishingly aesthetic unreliability, the first Humbert.

This book blends wisdom, insanity, tenderness, and adventure to highlight the most colorful aspects of human nature. I was captivated by Scott's intricate crafting of the English language and engulfed by the savage yet elegant execution of this novel. A true work of art.

Think a kinder, deeper Nabokov re-plotting Lolita-meets-King Lear-and-hits-the-road as an exquisitely elegant acid trip of wondrous language, fascinating characterization and sizzling gothic spicing and you'll get an approximate idea of what Joanna Scott's debut novel has waiting for you. Here Ms.Scott, now solidly established as perhaps the brightest star in the younger generation of contemporary american writers, delivers what old school critics used to call a tour de force and mean it. This is a bewitching tale that acts as a prism in which we discover the many layers, sides and angles that a narrative has below its surface. Ms.Scott tells us the story of an old man that takes on a spiritual quest, a road run of sorts, after the death of his life long wife. His companion for the ride will be a young, mysterious girl that will take him, and us, in a trip of self-discovery. It might not an easy read, granted, but in these days of literary-lite and I-can't-believe-it's-not-butter flavor-of-the-months, you can't ask for a more rewarding author than Joanna Scott. She's the best of the pack, far ahead and leading the way. And one thing's for sure: you'll be back for more.

This volume of short stories deserves all the praise it has received. The author's stupendous erudition is evident on nearly every page. And yet I will offer a single caveat: despite her undeniable talent as a writer of fiction, Joanna Scott fails to make us care about her characters. There is a frigid, clinical quality to the writing that holds the reader at an emotional distance from the events on the page. And yet the stories themselves are, for the most part, absorbing. There is no disputing that Joanna Scott is a very good writer, but I wish she would give us more of the emotional life of her characters.

This lady is SMART, in the same league with such novelists as Richard Powers, John Buchan, Francine Prose, and Stephen Dobyns. This collection will make you want to read her other works of fiction. Brimming with insight and beautiful language.

With a keen, almost relentless examination of history and prose, this fusion writing introduces memorable characters, intense settings, and the unerring need to have these stories told. Joanna Scott, one of the great authors in today's literary universe, obsesses over details so far as to allow the reader the luxury of accepting the not so distant past with a profound clarity. This collection of short stories, similiar to the obsession of one of the book's characters, van Leeuwenhoek, must be examined closely, with intelligence and insight, and there lies the real value of Joanna Scott's writing; it requires us to think, and that is medicinal in its own rights

The events that occurred on September 11, 2001, changed the history of the United States forever. No longer are Americans fearless of other world powers, no matter how large or small, but now Americans are to some degree living in fear. Terrorist attacks can happen again today, tomorrow, a month from now or a year from now. There is no way to plan for the unexpected, even though cautionary levels are through the roof. The outcome of that fateful day changed American attitudes. The hatred felt toward the U.S. was overwhelming. I believe that if it would have been possible, there would not be a single American man, woman or child alive to tell the frightening tale. The history of the U.S. changed that day, and luckily, there is people left to tell about it and share stories and emotions.
Following Spetember 11, 2001, there has been numerous literary works that have popped up about the issue. One of these works is by William Heyen and is called September 11, 2001 American Writers Respond. This literary work is an anthology of 127 American writers that responded to the tragedy. The anthology is a collection of fiction writings, essays, and poetry and prose. What is amazing to me is that these writers were able to respond at all. Following the events, there was numbness throughout the U.S. Mass confusion and hysteria was going on. No one knew for sure who was involved, who was killed, or what the meaning behind the event was. It was as if, for Americans, the world had stopped moving for days at a time while they watched over and over again the planes crashing and the towers falling.
For months afterwards, news headlines and magazine covers were filled with pictures and stories of people's experiences and thoughts. This is what September 11, 2001 American Writers Respond is all about-experiences and thoughts. The stories and prose included in the anthology are by various writers throughout the U.S. and vary in length, depth, and character. This may be the only downfall of the anthology. If there was some uniformity to the pieces, I believe, the anthology would be much stronger. Nonetheless, the fact that the writers were able to capture their thoughts and emotions during this chaotic and emotionally charged time is all that matters, because these thoughts and emotions are exactly what everyone in the U.S. wanted, and in some ways needed.
Americans couldn't get enough of others thoughts and were also eager to share their own. Most of the pieces in the anthology explore the meaning behind the events, such as what does this say about humanity, what does this say about everyone's sense of well-being and why is the U.S. so hated. Some explore what should be done as a counterattack, and other simplier pieces, recollect what a particular writer was doing at the time of the incident. The reaction of the people to this tragedy is similar to when Kennedy was shot or when the U.S. first landed on the moon. Everyone talks about what they were doing. Curiosity is great but it is more than simple curiosity. A uniting of the nation came to pass, and the people want to feel as though they belong, as though they all shared a common experience and grew as a result of that experience. This also is what the anthology does for the reader.
One piece that particularly grabbed my attention was by Antler, and was taken from Skyscraper Apocalypse. The lines that made me grasp the events in a different light go as follows:

Have the winds blown enough
that by now all of us have breathed
particles of the burned-up corpese?
Sooner of later all of us will inhale
invisible remains of the incinerated victims...

I had never thought of the events in this light. Living in Wisconsin, and not knowing any victims, made me disengage myself from the tragedy in some ways. My life wasn't changed in a drastic manner so I didn't think about it constantly. However, when I read these lines, and I think that at this very moment I could be breathing someone's remains, makes me look and remember the tragedy in an altered way. This is also a major part of the anthology, looking at others perspectives and making them part of the larger picture. The people that lost their lives were live human beings, and even if I didn't know them, their death does make a difference in my life.
Overall the anthology was well put together. The writers all had something intellectual to contribute and did so in a meaningful manner. It is a mixture of works that makes the reader feel the tragedy all over again yet, at the end there is hope, even though nothing has been resolved at the time the anthology was published. The anthology's greater purpose, I believe, is to console and also to share thoughts and emotions, which at a time like this, as any psychologist would say, is very crucial.

We all know where we were on September 11th, 2001. Some of us were headed to work, others to school, some were with families and some were alone. We all know the thoughts that struck our minds as those airplanes struck those towers. Many of us would like to express the pain and emotion that we felt but are unable to find the words. That is why this book comes in handy.

At about 435 pages, September 11, 2001: American Writers Respond is an anthology featuring 120 writers. Loaded with first hand impressions penned only months within the attack on America, the book is a balanced mix of political response, personal reflection and artistic vision of the day that changed the world forever.

The anthology is Editor, William Heyen's effort to reflect the opinions and experiences of the world's people. It is a balanced representation of ideas, but hardly covers a fraction of the opinions and questions of all affected by the attack. And although it will never answer "why?" What it will do is let us express, empathize and identify with one another, not only as writers, not only as Americans, but as human beings.

September 11, 2001: American Writers Respond is a carefully put together anthology dealing with the attacks on the World Trade Center. This compilation contains pieces written by over 100 different authors and its diverse contents allow it to appeal to a variety of people.
Stylistically it is difficult to describe September 11, 2001: American Writers Respond because the genre is so widespread. The anthology includes poems, essays, short stories, fictional stories, non-fictional stories, letters, and poems-the list could continue. Each author has their own style yet the pieces have a way of fitting together and creating an amazing collection of artist's reactions to the events on September 11th. Authors like Daniela Gioseffi makes the reader laugh because she writes about an entertaining (and touching) conversation she has with a nine year old girl while authors like Fred Moramarco makes the reader cry because the contents of his poem include the final conversations of September 11th victim's lives. The different authors attempt to affect the reader in different ways creating an extremely effective anthology.
The pieces in the compilation of writings are arranged in alphabetical order by the author's last name. This unoriginal organization is actually a very effective technique used by the editor, William Heyen, because it leaves the reader in anticipation of what is left to come. Heyen could have organized the anthology by grouping similar pieces together but this option is undoubtedly inferior to his choice of arrangement. Because every author has a different point of view and style, the reader has no idea what to expect when they begin the next piece in the anthology. The reader may find two poems similar in content back to back, or an essay followed by a memoir with contents differing from one extreme to the next. The anticipation that builds within the reader regarding the content of the upcoming pieces makes September 11, 2001: American Writers Respond a book that people do not want to set down.
It is impossible to read September 11, 2001: American Writers Respond without questioning your own view on the attacks. The anthology represents an abundance of different points of view. From Muslims to Christians, Middle Eastern people to American people, presidential supporters to presidential protestors; every view is represented. One of the most amazing things about this collection of writings is the wide range of feelings it produces. There are pieces like "the window, at the moment of flame", by Alicia Ostriker, that produce feelings of anger and disbelief in many readers because it blames the Americans for the tragedy. There are also pieces like Richard Wilbur's "Letter" that produce nationalistic feelings and recreate a true sense of love and pride for America. A person's opinion of the nation and the attacks prior to reading September 11, 2001: American Writers Respond will definitely be challenged because of this book. Pieces such as "America United", by Ishmael Reed, force even the strongest supporter of the government to reevaluate the strength of our leaders and, consequently, take a second look at their own view on the matter. Initially some of the pieces included in the anthology may produce feelings of rage because the point of view of the reader and the author differ greatly. One of the things that make this anthology as effective as it is, however, is that the differing opinions (regardless of who the reader is) will be retaliated by another piece somewhere in the book. The anthology contains such a large variety of pieces that it is impossible for a person to not be able to identify and agree with at least one of the pieces.
It is inevitable that the attacks on September 11th had an affect on every American, but what is not as certain is the effects that it had on people other than Americans. September 11, 2001: American Writers Respond helps prove that the attacks were not simply an American tragedy, but rather a world tragedy. The anthology contains non-fictional stories such as "Sisters", by Karen Blomain, in which two American sisters are spending an ordinary day shopping in a flea market when the attacks occur. In this story the tragedy brings the American sisters together to mourn with Russians, Koreans, Latinos, and Indians. Many of the authors that are included in the anthology come from different cultures. The ability of this one book to cross cultures and force any reader to see the impact the tragedy had on people other than Americans is simply amazing. After reading this book it is impossible for a person to see the attacks as affecting only Americans, but instead the book forces readers to have feelings of empathy and respect for other cultures.
September 11, 2001: American Writers Respond is one of the most moving and motivational anthologies of today. Although the attacks on the World Trade Center occurred almost two years ago, it is still hard for people to cope with the tragedy. Books like this one help people (both Americans and non-Americans) deal with the truths of the attacks and come to the realization that they are not alone in whatever they are feeling. The amazing thing about September 11, 2001: American Writer's Respond is that it has the capabilities of touching every single person's life because of its diverse content. In a time period as dangerous emotional as this, people need to find a place to turn when they feel that there is nowhere left to go. Thankfully this book can be that place for anyone.

After reading book reviews in The New York Times and The Christian Science Monitor applauding Joanna Catherine Scott's book "The Lucky Gourd Shop" I had to get my own copy. For once I wasn't disappointed. Scott's literary style is brilliant, one that could only be accomplished by a gifted poet. Her words flow like verse set to music. The characters, when introduced, fly from the pages and become real people with a sometimes sad, but often enough uplifting, tale to tell. I love books that take the reader to a different place, one that would be impossible to get to. The Lucky Gourd Shop did that for me. Scott introduces the reader to a South Korea, desolated by war, overrun by poverty. Only the author's personal background in Asia and her passionate research with attention to the most minute of details could have accomplished the presentation of a place so different from the one we inhabit. At times on the journey through "The Lucky Gourd Shop" it's difficult to comprehend that this place exists in our world. Scott's characterizations are outstanding. I will always remember that grandmother, plugging away, never giving up, and trying to do the best with what she has for her family. The little boy, not really a child, watching over his sisters, grubbing for food and surviving in his meager existence is another unforgettable, real person. The wedding shop owner brings to mind the indomitable Asian women running businesses in our neighborhoods. The husband, though a drunk and a wife-beater, grabs the reader's sympathy because of the cultural burden imposed on him by the narrow society he occupies. Then there's Mi Song, who couldn't comprehend how many times she had been "found", or passed from one person to another since her early abandonment in back of the Seoul coffee shop. Throughout the book as she missed opportunities, faced choices, I wanted to shout out, "No, no, don't do that...go the other way!" But oh, how she perseveres! How proud Scott's adopted Korean children must be at the perhaps fictional but nonetheless believable presentation of this brave woman as their birth mother. They also must be proud of Joanna Catherine Scott, the mother who has cherished them since their early childhood for presenting them with this penetrating narrative reflecting their heritage. The "Lucky Gourd Shop" is a must read! I only wish there was a sixth star available for me to rate it!

Before a recent business trip to Korea, I read the Lucky Gourd Shop as part of my reading to gain insight into the culture and recent historical experience of the country. This is an exceptional book. In addition to telling a poignant story with restraint, Ms. Scott gives the reader insight into the dynamics of Korean culture and the intricacies of daily life after the war. The personal relationships that it portrays make it a "must" for any reader who wants a very rich and pleasant way to understand Korea. The literary skill demonstrated by the author elevates The Lucky Gourd Shop above being just a good story. She weaves the motivations and needs of the characters skillfully into a tapestry that makes each one sympathetic and easy to identify with despite the significant distance from our personal experiences in the US. I recommend it as a fine read, a good story and a wonderful window on Korea.

Adoption is a two-headed coin -- tremendous joy but at someone else's sorrow.

Ms. Scott has taken the memories of her children, combined them with extensive research into the culture and socio-economics of Korea and written not simply a story but a complex profile of what I think is a not-so-untypical family.

It is a portrait of poverty, yes, but painted lovingly and yet without sentimentality. It is, I fear, a much truer face than we would like to see.

The first few pages moved me to tears - and I had to close the book. A few hours later, I picked it up again and read it straight through. I have not been able to stop talking about it ever since.

Mi Sook is a memorable character, and the grandmother's devotion and torment over deciding the fate of her grandchildren will haunt you. Even knowing the eventual outcome did not quell my thirst for more.

It was a wonderful read and I know it is a story that has touched my heart.

"Arrogance" is a worthwhile novel, beautifully written, full of astute observations on art in general and Schiele in particular. The unusual kaleidoscopic narrative structure of the book led me to take my time with it. Because one is constantly shifting in time and point of view, it can feel that, as a "story," the book never gets off the ground. On the other hand, this stylistic choice encouraged me to savor each page as I might in a book of poems. (Also, the language is extremely well-crafted, as in poetry.) Here is a quote that, for me, encapsulated not only Scott's subject but her own way of putting the novel together: "Symmetry and perspective, chiaroscuro, balance--all these, Egon Schiele believes, offer false comfort, and man is truly aware only when he learns to accept, even to delight in the incongruous, terrifying nature of the visual world."

Egon Schiele lived a brief and turbulent artistic life, dying of influenza in 1918 at the age of twenty-eight. Schiele was a draftsman and printmaker, but was best known as a painter. He entered the Vienna Academy of Fine Arts at the tender age of sixteen and soon became a student of August Klimt, the most well known Austrian painter of that time. As one of the preeminent artists associated with Austrian expressionism, Schiele's paintings are transgressive depictions of contorted, erotically charged nude figures, often in provocative sexual poses and often including young girls. Not surprisingly, Schiele's art was controversial. Moreover, his use of adolescent girls as models for his drawings and paintings led to numerous charges of immorality. Often, this simply meant he had to move from one small Austrian town to another, hounded by the wrath of common people who viewed him as morally repugnant. However, in one case, Schiele was prosecuted and spent time in prison for his averred transgressions.

"Arrogance" is Joanna Scott's fictional account of Schiele's life, a parallax narrative that tells its tale from a series of changing and different perspectives. Nominated for the 1991 PEN/Faulkner Award (which, regrettably, it did not win), it subsequently earned Scott a MacArthur Fellowship for her presumed literary genius. While not a novel for readers who prefer straightforward, linear narratives, "Arrogance" is nonetheless a penetrating fictional exploration of Schiele's artistic genius as related not only from the facts of his life, but also from the imaginary inner world of the artist and those around him, including his long-time female companion, Vallie Neuzil, and a fictional female narrator who tells of her fascination and involvement with Schiele and Vallie during their residence in the small Austrian village of Neulengbach, where Schiele was arrested for corruption of minors.

"Arrogance" is a vivid and convincing portrait of the life and mind of the artist, a complex narrative that challenge the reader to understand and interpret that life from multiple perspectives, both biographical and imaginative. It is, in short, a brilliant example of how fiction and imagination can inform biography, how literature can be written to illuminate and inform the real.

I bought this book more because my artistic interest in Egon Schiele than as an interesting fictional work. The book is well done as fiction but seems to get a significant part of the art wrong. Biographies of Schiele usually give his wife Edith a very different character. In the book, she is very proper. In most collections of his work, many of the most explicit and erotic drawings are listed as of Edith and her sister. Also,the relationship to his sister seems very much more restrained than than his work seems to indicate. Discussion of paintings and drawings without examples made me happy to have the Schroder biograpby of Schiele handy for comparison.

In creating hypertexts, whether with media or simply an organisation of nodes it is difficult to know how to proceed and to create a text which is navaigatable and understandable to the user. This editted edition included very clear explanations of theory and research in this area. (Though only up to 1996 - of course) and explains the ideas behind the node structure and many of the grounbreakers in this area. There are clear reviews of research strings in the area as well as some great diagrams which well support the complexity of the text. It is these diagrams which are particularly worthwhile considering this is a book which talks about hypertext! The use of diagramatic representations, screen grabs and graphic outlines support your understanding. I had read from the library, borrowed it three times and have finally given in and acknowledged a need to own it!

I picked this book up at the library recently and I have to say that although the storyline is a good one, I found the telling of Bo's tale to be much too drawn out.

The story begins with a car accident and Bo, a bi-racial child, is dangling upside down in his mother's car. His mother Jenny has been killed and Bo is now an orphan. From here the story continues with both sets of grandparents fighting for custody of Bo. The white grandparents only want Bo when they come to the realization that there may be some money involved. The story of the whole custody battle was slow moving and really not developed enough.

I enjoyed parts of the book but really felt it could have been a little less confusing in its depiction. It was somewhat disjointed and the characters never became real to me.

The author of MAKE BELIEVE certainly knows how to create a mood. She has a way of becoming the character. I could tell when she wrote through the eyes of the child, Bo. A couple of my favorite lines while reading were:
Laughter was evidence of a person's value...
Who needs words when you can say everything you need to say with your eyes?
All images had stories to tell, causes to explain.
The story will make you smile in some parts as you reminisce about being a child all over again. There are moods of alarm during a few sudden and unexpected events. A few days after completing the book the story made me wonder what is real and what is not (make believe). The reviews on this book were amazing which caught my eye. I am truly glad I read it. You won't feel left out when you're done. It is a worthwhile book!

Joanna Scott, the book's author, writes lyrically astounding portrayals of what Bo, the main character, sees happening to him and his family. Bo isn't even 10 years old yet and more has happened in his life than one could bear in a life time. The struggles and paradoxes that him and his care-takers face are dramatic and show reality; what real people go through.

Although, because this book is very lyrical and also because its looking through the eyes of a child, sometimes its hard to understand if you're not concentrating completely on the book. That's its one, and only, drawback.