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As an anthropologist myself, I wish that I had had a copy of a guidebook even half as good as that authored by Ruth Wright and Alfredo Valencia Zegarra. Combining a clearly written text with intriguing photos and practical diagrams, The Machu Picchu Guidebook is the single best publication on this site that I have seen. While written primarily for the astute traveler, it will be of use to professionals as well.
My own work with indigenous water systems in places like Guyana and Indonesia led to my cursory examination in 1982 of the system at Machu Picchu. It proved fascinating, but I had little time for study. To their credit, Ruth Wright and her husband, Ken Wright (in conjunction with a number of their colleagues from the U.S. and Peru) instituted a remarkably thorough archaeological/engineering investigation of this Incan system in the 1990s. This same degree of care and attention to detail is seen in the guidebook, which had its genesis in their archaeological research.
In conclusion, it should be noted that Ruth Wright is a former chair of the Rocky Mountain Chapter of The Explorers Club. Her book brings an explorer's enthusiasm to Machu Picchu, while maintaining high standards of authorship.
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Do yourself a favour and take a trip back into Nineteenth century where technology is just a blink in everyone's eye. What you will discover, however, is that human beings have not really changed, just the conventions have.
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The poems are positive and hopeful. And they are written in a form that can be easily understood. I enjoyed them immensely.
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Jenny/Genevieve Warner is a care assistant at a luxurious home for the elderly where she has built a friendship with terminally ill, exquisitely turned out Mrs. Stella Newland. Two women could not be more different on the surface. Jenny is a modern, practical, hard working country girl who has never traveled and is a product of village life and education. Stella comes from the gentry, married very well and seems so sheltered as to have come from a different age all together. Yet the sparkling Jenny's humdrum marriage is teetering because she has discovered passion in the form of a married lover. Stella has some dark secrets she has lived with for over twenty years and wants to share them with Jenny. Stella believes in nothing, but would like redemption. Jenny believes in everything: omens, charms, and every passing happenstance has psychic meaning for her. Jenny is willing to work her way to better things; Stella is passive. But why does Stella own a house that no one knows about? And why is she afraid to even ride in automobiles when she once was considered a dashing driver? Why does she refuse to sit outside in the sunshine?
The author keeps us asking these questions and sends us down some strange paths to get the answers. We know we are heading for a nameless horrific climactic event in Stella's past that will somehow impact on Jenny's present, but what can it be? Ms. Vine never falls into a Gothic romance-type of trap. Her people and events are sharp edged. Stella smokes irritably in spite of the fact she is dying of lung cancer. When Jenny finally works up her courage to leave her husband, he will not take her seriously; so what should be a grand melodramatic episode degenerates into farce. "I'm leaving you Mike"----"Well take the washer and leave the car, there's a good lass."
The author builds the tension until we are wrought up for at least a tornado strike, and she doesn't disappoint. Then when we think we have taken quite enough for one day, she adds another zinger. A great well-done page-turner.
This, "The Brimstone Wedding", is yet another masterpiece of atmospheric fiction from Barbara Vine (Ruth Rendell). Yet again she synthesises her twin storylines - one in the past, one in the present - brilliantly, and they eerily mirror each other down the generations. She builds the atmosphere brilliantly in both the time periods, and the suspense is continually ratcheted up, helped along by subtle and tantalising hints as to what exactly Stella's shocking secret could possibly be.
This time around, the characters are also more likeable than is the norm for a Vine novel, so it has a warmer, deceptively (and dangerously) cosy feel, which is juxtaposed with the usual chilly atmosphere and down-to-the-bones and wonderfully detached writing style. They're characters you are motivated to care deeply about, which serves to make this not only a powerful in places but also very moving. Certainly, there was one point when I even shed a few tears.
The story is told brilliantly, giving readers enough information to satisfy, but yet as little as possible, to ensure that they need continually to turn the page to find out more. It all culminates excellently with a shocking revelation about the true nature of Stella's secret. This revelation is not overblown and exaggerated, as some authors might make it, instead Vine underplays it, clearing it entirely of melodrama and simply telling things exactly as they were, which forces the reader to actually think about it, thus bringing huge power to the climax.
This, a masterpiece that is the sum of many excellent parts, is a complete triumph for Vine, matching up very equally with my previous favourite of hers, the erotic and chilling genius that is "No Night Is Too Long". Neither of these books should be passed over by any reader worth their salt.
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Recently I was fortunate to read a book which helped me to experience this paradox in a novel way. Weeping Willow (Farrar Stroux) is a book I ordinarily would not have read. Working so much with the printed word, reading fiction is not something I usually choose for my leisure time. Moreover, this particular book was written primarily for teenage girls. It's the sort of book they'd love, detailing a young woman's coming of age within a poor family in the Virginia mountains, struggling to emerge from the last years of high school out into a larger world. I read the book out of respect for the author, Ruth White, who is one of A.R.E.'s librarians. It is her second book. I recall browsing through her first, Sweet Creek Holler, which won an American Library Association award as a Notable Children's Book. I had put it down because of the subject matter and presumed adolescent audience, but was haunted later by its deceptively simple style of writing and the mood the mountain dialect evoked. When Ruth gave me a copy of her new book, I immediately sat down and read it. As I was nearing the end of the story, I began to cry. I didn't know why I was responding this way to a "kids book" and felt somewhat embarrased with myself. By the end of the book, however, there was no holding back my uncontrollable tears and I was heaving sobs of release. Later that day I found myself blurting out to people feelings I would normally keep to myself. I could not deny that the book had exerted a powerful, if mysterious, effect on me. It remained on my mind for over a week as I pondered its meaning.
The tale is about a girl named Tiny whose prospects for the future are grim. Poverty, being needed around the home, and a lack of expectations in the community narrow her chances of stepping out. Her meager pickings are further sullied by the specter of incest by a step-father. The book handles this topic very gracefully but we can feel the depressing, life draining effects it has on Tiny. There is a happy ending, however. What turns things around? The book begins with a vignette showing how an unsympathetic school teacher forces a young Tiny to disavow her imaginary playmate, "Willa." Periodically through the story she tries to call Willa back, but to no avail. Only when she is in deep dispair over her encounters with her stepfather does Willa return to comfort her. Just as in many documented cases of real life victims of childhood abuse who find their companionable imagination and inner voices to have paranormal ablities, so does Tiny find Willa providing some special guidance that saves the day in a critical moment. By responding to her inner guidance, Tiny is able to face an important challenge and graduates from survival into the larger world of success.
I now know why the book affected me so profoundly. Several times in my life I have known hopelessness, whether through addictions, depression, or interpersonal tangles. I was saved from my first encounter with hopelessness almost magically. The second time around, however, I had to participate more actively in my own rescue. Through successive encounters I was learning, as has every wounded healer, Cayce's secret of transforming crisis to creativity. I discovered that I have an imaginary companion who has a special magic. The companion doesn't usually appear as a vision of a superior being, or as a fairy god mother, or even as a fairy. It usually comes first simply as "The One Who Listens." This friendly ear appears as I become willing to listen to myself. If I have to resort to basics, I get my journal and write how I feel and have an imaginary good listener write out, without judgment or interpretation, simply a "receipt" for what I said ("What I hear you saying is..."). The "One Who Listens" becomes the hint of a special companion. Receiving the gift of listening calms me, my feelings begin to unravel, and a natural intelligence appears. What was at first mere listening now becomes a gateway to wisdom, a companion with guidance. The acceptance of my feelings begins a process of recovery of the ability to hope.
Throughout most of the book, Tiny's attitude toward her life has a special quality. Even if only by dint of the author's use of a first person style, Tiny can acknowledge her feelings. Her breakout to success isn't all to Willa's credit. At a critical moment Tiny herself takes action. Hers is an act of listening. She listens to herself and she hears a clue her little sister's been giving her. Then she gets her mother to listen. These little acts of listening bring about significant change.
Sometimes we can feel too helpless to initiate change and, as Tiny and I both know, self-hatred may seem to be the only thing we can still assert. You may find, however, as we both did by listening even to our self-hate, that there is something good inside, a core untouched by life's wounds, that welcomes us home like the prodigal child returned to awareness. Accompanied by sweet and sour tears, sadness now recognized at a new level of acceptance becomes sadness now open to hope.
A book of fiction for children turns out to be not fiction at all, and not for children only. A simple truth, well told--I wish all my non-fiction reading were as valuable.
To read Henry's essays on other interesting books in the field of consciousness, spirituality, dreams
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