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Don't look at the facts. Facts are **BAD***!! Let's attack the victims and divert attention away from what the case was all about...the murder of a twelve year old girl and a family aquaintance.
OJ's "Dream Team" (what a joke) must've used this case as a template for OJ's defense, because the similarities are eerie.
Highly recommended.
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Nonetheless, upon opening this book, one finds that it is more than meets the eye. It is not the political treatise one might expect. I am grateful for the honesty the son (Roberto) gave in the acknowledging the irony in being both a suporter of the cause as well as a photographer/reporter of history.
Of particular interest, which I think self taught photographers may find of interest, is the many anecdotes on how Roberto and his father "made do" with what little equipment they had (both before going to Cuba and after) and how they shared equipment. Such disclosures dispell the popular belief that an aspiring photographers needs all the latest gadgetry that manufacturers pump out. The kind of "socialism they [Cubana] fought for is the kind struggling artist could practice.
From a political perspective. The book (story) of how the U.S. Government ousts individuals be they journalist or subversives is touched on. This is a book that may touch the heart and the soul of a anyone who suspects Cuba and Castro have stories to tell. Finally, it is a photographic feast of photojournalism from the inside of not only the revolution but the photographers who documented it.
Set your politics aside. Look at this wonderful book and ponder how close Fidel and Che came to actually getting it right.
They take us from the tender beginnings of a Revolution of bearded young men against a bloody tyrant. They are young gods in olive-green uniforms. The photo of Camilo Cienfuegos and another unidentified bearded guerrilla in front of the Lincoln statue in the Lincoln Memorial in DC is magnificent. What did America think of these young white men, in their dark, long hair and their huge beards? It stunned and seduced the nation and the seeds of the hippie movement were planted.
The book delivers with visual insight and power. The photographs are vivid and full of history. My highest possible rating!
Greg Whincup has here had the useful idea of making Chinese poetry come alive for the Western reader by bringing readers face-to-face with the original texts. Although it has been done before, for example by David Hawkes in his 'A Little Primer of Tu Fu' (Renditions Press, 1988), Whincup seems certainly to have done as well, and considering the incredible importance of the Chinese language, and the wealth of its literature, there really ought to be many more books like this.
Whereas Hawkes' book focused exclusively on the work of Tu Fu, Whincup has chosen instead to give us fifty-seven of China's greatest poems from a wide range of writers - Li Bai, Du Fu, Du Mu, Su Shr, etc. If these names look strange it's because Whincup, rather than employing the Wade-Giles system of transcription which everyone is familiar with, has chosen instead to use the far less well-known Yale system of romanization. For those who don't know it, which probably includes almost everyone, he has provided a brief guide on pages 173-74. The book also contains an extensive 5-page English-language Bibliography
The poems have been topically arranged under the following headings : The Heart of Chinese Poetry; The History of Chinese Poetry; Three Poets of the Golden Age; Poems of War; Poems by and about Women; Landscape/Enlightenment.
For each poem we are given : 1. Whincup's final translation; 2. the Yale word-by-word romanization; 3. the printed full-form Chinese character (ideogram; sinograph); 4. a literal translation of each character; 5. explanatory notes. A nice touch is that the texts have been arranged vertically.
As anyone who has read the poems like this can vouch, it really is the only way for the non-specialist to get an idea of how glorious Chinese poems are when understood in their original language. My only complaint is that, although the Chinese font that has been used in the book is a beautiful cursive form and without the stiffness of the usual printed form, it's also incredibly tiny, and the beginner is going to need very good eyes and very good lighting to be able to discern the structure of the more complex characters.
Here is an example of Whincup's final translation of a famous poem, 'Deer Fence,' by Wang Wei (with my obliques added to indicate line breaks) :
"In the empty mountains / I see no one, / But hear the sound / Of someone's voice. // Slanting sunlight / Enters deep forest, / And shines again / On green moss" (p.169).
This is a respectable effort, and readers might care to compare it with Wai-lim Yip's treatment of Wang Wei in his excellent bilingual anthology, details of which follow below.
Whincup's is a wonderful book that, by enabling the reader to come to grips with the Chinese, will help anyone to arrive at a deeper and richer appreciation of Chinese poetry, and to see how far short of the originals any English translation must inevitably fall. You simply can't do in English what can be done in Chinese, and there really ought to be more books like 'The Heart of Chinese Poetry.'
For those who may be interested, here are details of the Yip:
CHINESE POETRY : An Anthology of Major Modes and Genres. Edited and translated by Wai-lim Yip. 358 pp. Durham NC and London : Duke University Press, 1997. ISBN 0-8223-1951-9 (pbk.)
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benjamins you know what im sayin mooney money bling bling
Why?
I enjoyed reading about how
they all felt about each other.
What I really liked was they finally
got record deal.
The character I liked the most was Chanel
because she was the nice and pretty type.
So that's why I rated this book five stars.
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As history they are completely worthless, but one can still admire the craft that went into their forging.
Update: 10/14/2002.
Further research suggests to this writer that the documents relied upon by Mr. Douglas are not fakes or forgeries.
Naifeh and Smith raise the true crime genre to something close to literature here. We have the usual litany of sickies and psychopaths, the usual police incompetence, prosecutors who can't prosecute, etc. The "final justice" in the title is somewhat ironic since multimillionaire Cullen Davis is never found guilty of any of his crimes, the worst of which was the cold-blooded murder of his wife's 12-year-old daughter; the least of which, perhaps the killing of her kitten. The juries in Texas just would not convict him (although they have put a number of poor people on death row). Instead they admired him for his money, stupidly since he just inherited it. And before the book is over, he blows most of it.
We get a terrible sense here that people with riches in positions of power really can get away with murder. People look up to them regardless of their crimes. It helps us to understand how murderers like Sadaam Hussein and what's his name in Yugoslavia continue in power. It's not just that people are afraid of them, they look up to them and find ways to excuse their crimes. This is the human tribal mind at work: better our corrupt and evil leader than theirs, and better a corrupt and evil leader than no leader at all. The women in this one come off as particularly subject to manipulation by power and money, although that was not necessarily the authors' intent. They wanted to show just what a sick, sick man Cullen Davis is, and they succeed in that. But incidentally they revealed the women around him, especially his gold-digging wives, as sad, sad creatures who would be abused and wallow in it for the sake of being close to all that money and power and maybe getting a little of it. One has the sense that they couldn't help themselves.
This is a good read that will rouse your sense of indignation.