Buy this book before it goes out of print for another thirty-five years!

If Golding's Ovid is not, "the most beautiful book in the language," it's among the top two-dozen "most beautiful books" you can find in English. I've searched for a second-hand copy of the 1965 Simon and Schuster edition since the late sixties, ever since I read Pound's ABC of Reading. I never had any luck finding it, though I did come across a non-circulating copy in a university library once. Its title page explained that only 2500 copies had been printed and that the previous edition -- the one Pound must have used -- was a small, deluxe Victorian production, itself unattainable by 1965.

After all my years lurking in second-hand bookshops, Paul Dry Books has finally done the decent and brought Golding's Ovid out again, this time as a beautifully printed, well-bound, but inexpensive paperback. I grabbed up my copy at first sight.

Is this an "accurate" translation of Ovid? As a previous reviewer has said, if you really want accuracy, you should read Ovid in Latin and leave the wild Elizabethan translators alone. Unlike that reviewer though, I'd say that, if you want Ovid in perfectly accurate modern English, with his poetry and voice included, you should read him in Mandelbaum's beautifully rendered version; but if you want an accurate modern English translation -- the type of thing your Latin prof would give you excellent marks for -- then read him in Melville's able, though sometimes sightly flat translation.

But if you love Elizabethan literature, then you should read Golding. You read his Ovid for the ripe, quirky, full-on Elizabethan English, deployed in his long, rambling fourteeners. Golding's metre was becoming antiquated in his own day but, as with a good deal of his rustic vocabulary, he didn't seem to care much about literary fashion. Reading him now, I find it's his joy with his original that matters. Open the volume anywhere -- at the Cyclops Polyphemus singing to the Nymph Galatea for example -- and there is Golding rolling magnificently on:

"More whyght thou art then Primrose leaf, my Lady Galatee.
More fresh than meade, more tall and streyght than lofy Aldertree.
More bright than glasse, more wanton than the tender kid forsooth.
Than Cockeshelles continually with water worne, more smoothe."

Where "forsooth" is outrageous metrical padding, and "forsoothe/smoothe" was probably a forced rhyme even in 1567. But who cares? Golding's music carries the reader past any such concerns, and the beauty and energy of the thing are undeniable.

So buy the book! Make sure it sells tens-of-thousands of copies! Give the publisher a reason to keep reprinting, so it never disappears again.

I'd like my review to correct what seems to be an over-hasty, unreflective lionization of Golding's translation by the other reviewers. Yes, it is a "great translation," in the sense that Marlowe's translations from Latin are, or Motteaux' Don Quixote is, or Pope's Iliad, or Robert Lowell's Imitations, or Pound's Chinese "translations," or even Ted Hughes' Tales From Ovid: that is, it is an powerful, compelling, wholly literary work in its own right, but it is nowhere near the original in terms of accuracy. The Latinless reader would do much better to buy Melville's excellent Oxford translation (which lacks nothing in poetic splendor) or perhaps Allen Mandelbaum's. As for the poetic "quality" of Golding's verse, that's of course subjective, but I could easily think of at least ten Elizabethan poets who are more satisfying to my taste. Golding's chief literary interest, as Nims points out, is his absolutely odd-ball English; attentive readers will find him a veritable storehouse of strange, funny, quaint Elizabethanisms that didn't quite make it into Shakespeare or the other mainstream writers of the period. (Much of the same joy can be found in Chapman's marvelous translations of Homer, reprinted by Princeton.) And the much-quoted Pound maxim comes from his wonderfully cantankerous ABC of Reading, certainly a fascinating book, but one in which Pound indulges in various critical pronouncements that seem, at times, merely whimsical or rhetorical. Much of Golding is rough, much dull, much of its interest is linguistic rather than poetic. He also adds a lot to round off his fourteeners (which I can't imagine are palatable to most readers for long stretches): his additions are fun, but they're not Ovid. Golding "Englished" Ovid to a great degree: his imagery often comes from English culture, not Mediterranean. Of course, any translation is fallible, and Golding's faults as a translator are, in my view, his greatest strengths as a poet, but he's definitely not a good place to start reading what is certainly one of the world's greatest books. This is a fine book, well worth the five stars, but emphatically NOT for the reasons cited by my colleagues. If you want Ovid, go for the original; failing that, Melville's your man.

This edition presents the Arthur Golding translation just as it would have been read at the time of its publication (1567). The Elizabethan spelling is maintained but is not an overwhelming problem (and really not very difficult at all and really adds to the charm of the translation (poetry) itself...) The print of this edition is also perfect in look (black print) and size and is the type of print that gives words a more substantial look...(that's not a small thing in a work like this...) Arthur Golding was not only a Protestant in times when faith was very political, but he was a Puritan...(he also was famous for translating John Calvin...) This edition reprints his preface where he justifies his efforts in translating Ovid. It also reprints his Epistle, or, dedication... I noticed on the copyright page that this is a reprint of an edition that was published back in 1965 by Simon and Schuster which interested me because I've been looking for an edition new or used of the famous Golding translation all my reading life (which began well after 1965...) and had never had any luck, so I would say if you come across this edition or it's not out-of-print by the time you see it here on amazon.com and you've always wanted to read it (I, by the way, had never been able to find the Golding translation in any libraries either...) then don't put-off aquiring it... Golding's translation of Ovid's Metamorphoses is really a basic book (there are only about 40 of those at last count...don't ask me to document that though...) Why is Golding's translation of this work so intriguing...? It, for one thing, looks on the page like sunlight looks when it's dancing and flashing off the water of a running brook...

Just read this book if you are really interested where it started and how it started! I am very happy and honored to have this book as my desk book! It has all the info about the emergence of American colleges and universities! Some dramatic events occured therein! Thanks to the author of the book! he deserves special recognition!

Frederick Rudolph is a master of graceful historical narrative, and this classic account of the development of American higher education should be on the shelf of everyone who teaches in a college or university. From heart-breaking stories of college buildings that burned down before they were completed, to the history of liberal education, to arguments over importance of the extracurriculum, to anecdotes of nineteenth-century professors imported from Germany who found themselves chasing after students with stolen turkeys ("Ach, all dis for two tousand dollars!"), Rudolph will delight you and educate you all at the same time. This is a volume not to be missed.

Rudolph's study of the history of American higher education is considered a premier work in this body of knowledge. It traces the development of the American college and university from the pre-revolution seminary through today's large, multi-line land grant and private instituions and provides insight into the people and events which shaped these institutions and our country. A must for any historian or education scholar.

Written shortly after the end of World War II, The End of the Modern World is a bracing, sometimes bleak jeremiad against the dehumanizing dangers of what we now call postmodernism. Guardini is not a pessimist, but he is vitally concerned about the potential loss of human dignity and individual responsibility in a world culture dominated by technological utilitarianism.

Occasionally Guardini is off target (e.g., about all future wars being world wars), but mostly he is penetrating and prophetic in his analysis of contemporary society. After a brief review of the major epochs in Western history, he focuses on power as the defining problem of our age, and proposes that virtues such as humility, self-control, and faith are more crucial than ever.

After more than 50 years, this thought-provoking book still serves as one of the best introductions to the fundamental ethical and theological issues of our times.

Guardini has written, in a small space, what amounts to one of the most incisive, blistering critiques of the modern world that I've ever read. Beautifully abstract yet precise, this masterwork will leave you nearly breathless with its forceful prose and unwavering criticism. After reading this book, one may wonder how one has remained asleep for all this time. Wake up, world, Guardini is calling you! A fierce read that's about the most painfully honest thing a human being can read these days. Save your propaganda, your agenda, and your polemics for another time. Guardini will work on your last nerve until you are driven to action. Again, WAKE UP, WORLD!

The End of The Modern World will change the way you look at the world. Since first reading it twenty years ago, the daily events of the world constantly bring me back to Guardini's prophetic words. Beyond changing you view, it may also change your life.

I will let the book speak for itself. Early English translation of the Holy Scriptures.

However, just to clear up a little historical inaccuracy.
Pope Honorius lived 2 centuries after the Council of Nicea. The Vulgate was translated a century after the Council of Nicea. The earliest post-biblical Christian writers attested to Jesus's claims of divinity, and Arius was the inventor of Arianism. Perhaps one ought to consider reading the Apostolic Fathers.

I was fortunate enough to read through the original version of this bible at the Library of Congress in Washington, D.C. and it was truly unbelievable. The bible measured about 12" by 18" and came in four very stout volumes. I flipped through checking out my favorite verses, in both the Wycliffe and Purvey translations, which appear side-by-side. My favorite verse, 1 Cor. 3:11 read like this, "For no man may sette another foundement, outtaken that that is sett, which is Crist Jhesus." Anyone interested in the history of the bible should check this version out if you are in the D.C. area. Also, just a plug, but the Library of Congress also has the Guttenburg bible on display. And just as a side note, I do not agree with the previous review. I will not try to woo the masses, but I urge anyone who happens to read these reviews to research and decide for themselves if Jesus claimed to be the Son of God. Recent authors to check out would be Strobel and McDowell (very simple). More thorough works are of course available. Don't forget to research the Dead Sea scrolls!

If you want to learn latin and also experience truth, this is a great book for doing so. Jesus did claim divinity, of course, and unfortunately, this book does not contain the Muslim aprocyphal book of Barnabus that was written around 700 AD, but if you are looking for a good tool to learn Latin this is it.

Adelina Patti at her height commanded a whopping $5,000 per performance in fees. She owned a castle in Wales. She was adored by the critics, composers, and the public alike. Pictures show an attractive petite brunette at times almost absurdly decked out in jewels. No wonder she considered herself a queen, albeit a fairly benign one.
This biography is another in the series of finely produced, copiously researched "Opera Biographies" by Amadeus Press. Tons of pictures, letters, reviews, apperance annals, and a discography make up this enjoyable book on the life of the ultimate prima donna of the 19th century. This book could, in fact, be subtitled "Everything you wanted to know about Dina."
However, like many prima donnas, Patti was probably a creature of the stage and song. She came alive the most when she was singing -- she even built a private theatre in her home to entertain guests with her singing. Her personal life, although much discussed, comes across as rather shallow and artificial. She married three times, the first time to a Marquis who flirted with Patti "lookalikes", the second to the tenor Nicolini (which caused a scandal in Victorian England) and the third time to a Baron half her age who both pampered and isolated her. There is no evidence she was ever in love though -- indeed she seemed mainly attracted to fawning eccentrics. Her last years seem to have been lonely. Thus, despite the research and well-written style of this biography, ultimately Patti is still a mystery. Her recordings, made when she was in her 60s, tell more of the story -- the charm, the emotional involvement, the uniquely haunting sound.
I greatly enjoyed this book because I had heard so much about Patti and wanted to 'know' her better. But as with most opera singers, really "hearing, one can believe."

The above quote, from Patti herself, pretty much sums things up. Adelina Patti was, undoubtedly, the most famous singer of the 19th century. In Mr. Cone's exhaustively researched book (in appendix form are lists of her roles, recordings, stage and concert appearances), the life of this extraordinary diva is examined. She started as a child prodigy, and made her official operatic debut at the age of sixteen (!) in "Lucia di Lammermoor." Patti lived in an age when operatic star power reigned supreme, and Cone includes tales of her capriciousness to highlight that fact. However, Patti was a true artist, able to even melt the hardest of hearts, including George Bernard Shaw. This is a marvelous book for anyone interested in singers and/or famous women of the 19th century.

I read this book years ago after it first came out. I was a fan of Patti but I knew very little about her life. She is an absolutely fascinating person and a tremendous singer (even in her sixties and seventies). If you like opera history, then this is the book for you.

I've often been fascinated by John Muir, ever since I started visiting many different national parks out west and seeing his name cited everywhere as an inspiration. If you are interested in environmental ethics and theory (as opposed to simplistic tree-hugging and other poorly-considered theories), and if you have a primal love for the outdoors, then John Muir is your man. Here Frederick Turner has written a solid biography of the man, with all the research and articulation that should be expected. Turner also includes a large dose of Muir's opinions and theories, as well as the historical and political background behind Muir's actions and thought processes. Therefore, what we have here is not just an informative biography on the public person, but an enlightening treatise on environmental ethics and theory, as defined by the brilliant mind of Muir himself.

I finished this book about a week ago. Despite moving on to subsequent reading material, I find that there are parts of Turner's book that I simply can't stop thinking on. For me, they are what makes John Muir's life and legacy so important.

There is about a three or four page segment at the end of the chapter entitled "Civilization and Its Discontents," in which Turner presents what appears to be a sea change in America's conception of itself. The change is fundamental in that it consists of a shift from the intellectual and human promise of America as seen through the eyes of Emerson and Thoreau, to the promise of power, wealth, and machines. That is, at one point, people, and their potential for growth and good, were at the center of the American dream. Yet, at some point in the Nineteenth century (possibly at the time of the Civil War) money and wealth became the American dream.

Turner is the not the first person to present this argument, as he himself notes. Nor am I certain that his take on this cultural shift is entirely accurate. However, I do think it points out the value that Muir had, and his intellectual descendants have, in directing the national attention back in the direction from which it came--not so much that we should live for nature, but that we should live for people.

As for the rest of the book, I found it enjoyable if not without problems. Turner's presentation of Muir's life, including the emotions and conceptualizations that he imagines for him, is thoroughly engaging and seems quite complete. The only problems I encountered are that Turner seems to run out of steam at the end, seeming to skip years of Muir's life at a time, and that Turner has an interesting use of commas in that he doesn't use them very often.

If you read this, and I think you should, you'll probably be as interested in reading Muir's own writings as I am.

I enjoyed this book very much. Until now I've only read short articles about Muir, so I am not qualified to comment on Turner's accuracy or how comprehensive his book is. But I can tell you it is beautifully written, evoking the world that Muir inhabited... or better yet, the worlds. Because Turner follows the boy John Muir from Scotland to Wisconsin, and then takes us along on all the adult John Muir's extensive travels. We learn about this majestic life that's as full of crags and crannies as the mountains he so loved. And we are left with no doubt about his genius and his incalculable importance to the America we live in today.

Despite the criticisms levelled at Trollope for his "authorial intrusions" (see Henry James for example) this novel is always a pleasure to read. The characters take precedence over the plot, as in any Trollopian fiction and this is what makes a novel like BARCHESTER more palatable to the modern reader, as compared to any of Dickens's. Some readers may find the ecclesiastical terms confusing at first but with a little help (see the Penguin introduction for example), all becomes clear. What is important, however, is the interaction between the all-too-human characters and in this novel there are plenty of situations to keep you, the reader, amused.

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.

I rushed home every day after work to read a little more of this Trollope comedy. The book starts out with the death of a bishop during a change in political power. The new bishop is a puppet to his wife Mrs. Proudie and her protégé Mr. Slope. Along the way we meet outrageous clergymen, a seductive invalid from Italy, and a whole host of delightfully ridiculous characters. Trollope has designed most of these characters to be "over the top". I kept wondering what a film version starring the Monty Python characters would look like. He wrote an equivalent of a soap opera, only it doesn't take place at the "hospital", it takes place with the bishops. Some of the characters you love, some of the characters you hate, and then there are those you love to hate. Trollope speaks to the reader throughout the novel using the mimetic voice, so we feel like we are at a cocktail party and these 19th century characters are our friends (or at least the people we're avoiding at the party!). The themes and characters are timeless. The book deals with power, especially power struggles between the sexes. We encounter greed, love, desperation, seductive sirens, and generosity. Like many books of this time period however, the modern reader has to give it a chance. No one is murdered on the first page, and it takes quite a few chapters for the action to pick up. But pick up it does by page 70, and accelerates into a raucously funny novel from there. Although I didn't read the Warden, I didn't feel lost and I'm curious to read the rest of this series after finishing this book. Enjoy!

"Barchester Towers" has proven to be the most popular novel Anthony Trollope ever wrote-despite the fact that most critics would rank higher his later work such as "The Last Chronicle of Barset","He Knew He Was Right" and "The Way We Live Now".While containing much satire those great novels are very powerful and disturbing, and have little of the genial good humor that pervades "Barchester Towers".Indeed after "Barchester Towers",Trollope would never write anything so funny again-as if comedy was something to be eschewed.That is too bad,because the book along with its predecessor "The Warden" are the closest a Victorian novelist ever came to approximating Jane Austen."Barchester Towers" presents many unforgettable characters caught in a storm of religious controversy,political and social power struggles and romantic and sexual imbroglios.All of this done with a light but deft hand that blends realism,idealism and some irresistible comedy.It has one of the greatest endings in all of literature-a long,elaborate party at a country manor(which transpires for about a hundred pages)where all of the plot's threads are inwoven and all of the character's intrigues come to fruition."Barchester Towers" has none of the faults common to Trollope's later works -(such as repetiveness)it is enjoyable from beginning to end.Henry James(one of our best novelists,but not one of our best critics) believed that Trollope peaked with "The Warden"and that the subsequent work showed a falling off as well as proof that Trollope was no more than a second rate Thackeray.For the last fifty years critics have been trying to undo the damage that was done to Trollope's critical reputation."Barchester Towers"proves not only to be a first rate novel but probably the most humorous Victorian novel ever written.

Frederick Dellaenbaugh was a young man when John Wesley Powell tapped him to participate in Powell's second trip down the Colorado River. Powell had made the journey already a few years before, so the second voyage was less pure exploration and more science; the crew included Almon Harris Thompson (called affectionately "Prof." throughout), a professional geographer who also happened to be Powell's brother-in-law. With several boats and men of widely varying experience, the expedition sailed the Green river (thought at that time to be the upper Colorado) to its junction with the Colorado, and the Colorado itself as far as the middle of the Grand Canyon. Swirling rapids, maggotty food, blistering heat, sudden blizzards beset the adventurers, who still though it all made their geographical, geological, and ethnographical observations which resulted in (among other things) the first maps of the four corners region and the Grand Canyon (reproduced in the book).
While wild adventure, humor, and a real sense of the Old West permeate the book, there is a certain sadness, too. The Native Americans whom Dellenbaugh encounters are people clearly already defeated -- fearful, distrusting, sad. We catch glimpses of the Navaho trying to accommodate themselves to the new reality of white (especially Mormon) settlement, creating new networks of trade focused on growing frontier towns. But the seeds of the end are planted already in the irrigated fields of the Mormon settlers, and sometimes it seems as if the natives knew this too. Also, the topography through which the explorers travelled has now partly vanished behind the dams that have ruined Glen Canyon and other stretches of white water and canyon scenery. No one can now do what Dellenbaugh and his companions did; the sense of loss hovers unintentionally about every page.
Dellenbaugh was a keen observer (though perhaps a bit naive) with a talent for making even the monotony of running rapid after rapid spellbinding. One does feel that he may have veiled some of the conflicts that must have arisen in two (non-continuous) years of isolation, though if so this trait is refreshing in a world where we now expect everyone to tattle on everyone else. Every now and then just a shimmer of impatience with one of the crew seeps through. But the real hero who emerges from this book, somewhat surprisingly, is not the leader Powell -- the young Dellenbaugh seems never to have gotten close to him -- but rather the Prof., who rises to every challenge with decency and humaneness, and of whom Dellenbaugh seems to have been genuinely, and for good reason, in awe. Like Powell he is buried in Arlington Cemetery. He deserved that honor, but where he lives is in the pages of this book.

Love and respect for the Green and Colorado Rivers is greatly enhanced by Dellenbaugh's narritive of the 2nd Powell expadition. Well written, accurate history, and spell binding from start to finish. An adventure that can only be partially accomplished today is TOTALLY available in "A Canyon Voyage!"

At the time of the 2nd voyage down the Colorado, Dellenbaugh was on about 19 years old. He didn't write the book until many years later. What a wonderful/spellbinding look at the most beautiful place in North America (The Colorado Plateau). Not only that but I found it extremely hunorous as well. Great Great book!!!

I had never even heard of Hugh Glass when i picked this book up. Wow, what a life he led! If even half of it is true its an amazing tale in the spirit of Jeremiah Johnson.

What this man goes through is unbelievable and makes for a heck of a page turner. Great historical/fiction mountain man story.

This is one particularly unique western set in a time when the Midwest was untamed; it's probably like no other western ever written. I have read maybe two-hundred westerns, but I was naive until I read Lord Grizzley.

Actually, this book should be about 4 1/2 stars, but I'll round up. It is a captivating book that is part history and part (probably the biggest part) fiction centered around an historic figure. I imagine old Hugh did go through very similar experiences during his time in hell. This book gives a great depiction of what life probably was like for a mountain man in the early 1800s. It reminds me of the sheer luxuries we all take for granted in every day life compared to those who lived before us. Hugh Glass is portrayed as a determined man who was about as tough as any creature on the planet could be. I imagine he was. For a glimpse of how the West was before white men poured in, what life consisted of then, and the inspirational feats of a colorful mountain man, read this book. It's hard to put down.

I keep this book on my shelf as a reference to poetry techniques. It is the best book I have found on the art of writing poetry. The examples are great.

I can't go on enough about how great a poetry manual this is. It's not stuffy, and it is fun to read. Especially chapters 7 and 8, which are on sound in the English language. And they should be read out loud. Also pay special attention to chapter 13 which discusses making sense in poetry. The examples and exercises are helpful. This is the best poetry introduction I've seen. The anthology carries Mason's flair, but you could supplement this manual with R.S. Gwynn's Longman anthology.

Can a book about writing poetry be instructive AND poetic?? A few months ago I wouldn't have known quite how to answer since my experience with poetry manuals had been more in the vein of "this is good for my craft therefore I...must...continue...reading." It seems poetry and books about writing poetry often chafe on each other. Western Wind has proven the antidote to that outlook. It's the most accessible and deeply dug volume on poem-making I've found. I enjoyed it like a good novel and my work is clearly better for it.

P.S. The book "In The Palm of Your Hand" fits up against this one nicely.