Normally, after reading a book I have many things to say about it, some of which come easily and others which I struggle to put into words. After completing A Woman of Means by Peter Taylor, I felt a whole rush of half-formed ideas and feelings bubbling just below my consciousness, but which I was unable to articulate. I beleive this is because although the story is told in a straightforward style and is easy to follow, it's presented through the eyes of a intelligent,young narrator who's struggling to find a place for himself, whether it be at his school, in the city, or in his own family.

Much of his uncertainty comes from his inability to establish a firm relationship with a mother-figure, whether it be with the grandmother he describes while recalling his earliest memories in the rural South, or with his wealthy step-mother whose home he lives in with his father in St. Louis.

A mother to him seems to represent a home, which is something he has never really had, due to his constant moving from place to place with a father who is determined to make a name for himself. When his father begins to achieve some professional success, gets married to a wealthy young widow and they move into the woman's house, there finally seems to be a chance to develop roots in a town, at a school, and most importantly within a family.

The story focuses on the boy's gradual sense of belonging and how this belonging is eventually threatened by what he perceives as the disolution of his parents's marriage. It is a very complex examination of not just what the boy needs to be happy, but his father and step-mother as well, and includes the the themes of wealth/poverty, the city/country, moderness/ tradition, and love and reputation--all of which are relevant to our own age. It also contains the same mysterious quality of all great art, in that it encapsulates things that can only be truly assimulated, not through the mind, but through the heart.

I don't know how these reviews can look so recent

"Quite simply, there is not a better writer of fiction now at work in the United States.... In A WOMAN OF MEANS...the reader is transported into a place so faithfully similar to the real world, yet so imbued with a knowledge of it that none of us can hope to possess, that one is left breathless with admiration."

It is a unique experience to read a period piece and feel that when you're finished you have learned things that can easily be applied to your own world. Connecting history like that to the present is very amazing.
Set in pre-revolutionary France in the days of Cardinal Richelieu, Taylor Caldwell brings to life the man the forever changed France in ways surpassed by none other than perhaps Napolean Bonaparte. Each character comes from opposing religions, ideals, and childhood experiences and they influence eachother in very profound ways.
Besides feeling connected to a period so distant from us, this novel explores the possibilities of human interaction and how much a person can change. If you enjoy history as well as exploring our own humanity and relationships we forge, you will not be disappointed by this book. The beginning is very exciting then it staggers a bit, but it picks up right till the end. Truly, a great book.

Caldwell sets this novel in 17th century France, when the persecutions of the French Protestant Huguenots is about to resume after a hiatus of tolerance. She offers her usual vivid portraits of characters, especially the wily Cardinal Richelieu, and a vivid depiction of the bitterness of the poverty of Paris peasants. The novel culminates in the dreadful siege of Rochelle, which led to the Huguenots' mass exodus to the New World, where they founded New Rochelle. Caldwell's usual flaws are evident here--why is everone so "inexorable," so bitter, so alientated, so all-or-nothing in their approach? Still, this novel is a highly entertaining account of this turbulent period in French history, and Caldwell's many fans won't be disappointed.

Often considered one of the definitive surrealist novels (along with Andre Breton's NADJA), Paris Peasant is an exhilarating read. Aragon takes us through a special guided tour of Paris--not the Paris as we know it with its Eiffel Tower and other famous landmarks, but a Paris of crumbling arcades, dilapidated shopfronts and suburban parks. Aragon imbues the detritus of the city with poetry and magic, and shows us how the surrealist spirit lives in the outmoded structures of civilization. His ode to the Passage de l'Opera, at that time threatened by Baron Haussmann's plans for the redevelopment of the city, is a tacit challenge to the rapaciousness of capitalism and modernization, with its quest for the ever-new and its destruction of the past. Every urbanite will find something to identify with in this marvellous portrait of Paris in the 1920s.

This new edition of a scare work is welcome not only for the exposure it provides to Aragon and his work (if it can be called that), but for the loving manner in which it is produced. From the covers to the typeface to the translation of newspaper column margins, editor Damon Krukowski and designer Naomi Yang, known more for their musical than literary endevours, have brought attention to the smallest detail, the kind of attention that is the substance of the text itself. The translation, from a 1971 edition, flows perfectly; just alien enough from standard English to draw attention to Aragon's linguistic differences, but not a characature of French style. It would be hard to imagine a better English edition of this work. James L. Wolf

If you love architecture and want to understand the birth of modernism and tall buildings in America, and uniqueness of the Chicago school of architecture -- the inspiration for generations of American architects including Sullivan's student Frank Lloyd Wright -- you have to have this book. It is a gorgeous work of art, the design of the book is so simple and compelling, the large plate photographs do justice to both the beauty and ingenuity of the architecture as well as the architectural photography. For lovers of art books, architecture, black and white photographs, for those who want to own a book as a piece of art, this is a wise investment. I know I treasure it -- reading it is like taking a journey to the past, one in which American architects still dared to dream.

This book is a disgrace. It is not meaningful or helpful at all. I would think twice before reading this, people... the authors have no idea what they're talking about.

This is a good book that address a variety of the facets of horse ownership. The bad news is, I already owned the book under the title of Ride America.

Only a fraction of this book is about St. Louis hauntings. Everything but the kitchen sink is pulled in--including St. Louis caves--and everything, but everything, in this book has been published elsewhere and in many cases in more detail. I keep buying Troy Taylor's books because they always sound so interesting. Then I get them and find they only deal partially with the promised subject as they wander through all sorts of other territory. This man's standards for facts versus fancy are nearly nonexistent, too, and he could use a strong editor to get his copy tight and focused. Not to bash him--he does select wonderful topics and is a great conversationalist in print. And there is a lot interesting to find in his books. He needs to ask more of himself and give us loyal readers better quality. I'll give him this--he's got my number and I'll bet you anything I'll also buy whatever his next book is. And be disappointed again.

It was sooo Long and boring, and for the first 10-20 pages you had not a clue what was happening.

Hyde wasn't so bad. I thought the story could have been more of a story and less of a correspondence. It could have had more adventures of Hyde and less letters.