Ms. Dixon exhibits her mastery of it all (plot, language, suspense, credibility, characters, and action) in this remarkably well-written first novel. Absent an unavoidable interruption, this would have been a single-seating read for me. Bravo, and bring on the sequel...

Louisa Dixon creates a compelling story through the eyes of a character, in many ways, based on her life. She weaves a web of southern politics, corruption inside government life, and heartbreak. She writes of incidents that very well could have happened, as well as imagining those that did not occur. Her story is fast pace and easy to follow which allows you to read a 300 page book, easily, in two days. It is a captivating novel which I recommend to all.

Deep in the heart of Dixie, Laura Owen is appointed Commissioner of Public Safety and head of the State Patrol in a brazen political move by Governor Gibbs Carver, a two-term lame duck who is readying himself for the national spotlight. Owen was chosen because of her successful investigations of government corruption. This sets the scene of "Next to Last Chance" (Genesis Press $24.95) by Louisa Dixon, who like her protagonist, served as Commissioner of Public Safety for the State of Mississippi from 1988 to 1992 and as Director of Investigative Audits for the State Auditor's Office from 1984 through 1988. She is the only women to ever head a state law enforcement body. During her time in office Dixon saw a lot of corruption and too much good-ole-boy politics. She puts her experiences, both real and imagined, to paper in "Next to Last Chance" and she does it with brilliant style. Laura Owen is much like the author. She's petite, but she packs a wallop. In the story, Governor Carver appoints Laura to office to further his own career in politics, to help build up his record on crime-fighting and to boost his image with women. Waiting in the wings to take his place as governor is Alex Markham, United States Attorney and the chief federal prosecutor. He uses his drug prosecutions to strengthen his public image until Laura puts a stop to his plans by severely disrupting the flow of illegal drugs. Dixon writes with expert authority about what she knows - law enforcement, politics and corruption in the south. "Next to Last Chance" is first in a series that will leave the reader wanting more. It is available through your favorite book store.

I always enjoy reading Mildred D. Taylor books, and Mississippi Bridge was no exception. It was to short for my liking, but it was an excellent book. Taylor writes from the perspective of Jeremy Simms, a white boy, which is different from most of her books, which are usually told from the perspective of the african-american Logan family.
Mississippi Bridge descibes the unfairness of racial prejudice in the south, and how it backfired on some of the people who commited it. A swollen creek, a rickety bridge, and an out of control bus turn into a disaster. The book then ends with Jeremy, his african-american friend Josias, and others pulling people out of the water. It ends here, and kills the quality of the book. It seems like Taylor wanted a cup of Starbucks more than the importance of answering the questions I and most likely other readers are asking. This was a disappointing ending to an otherwise excellent book.

Mississippi Bridge by Mildred D. Taylor displays an excellent picture of what life was like in Mississippi in the 1930's. The depiction of racism that an African-American family had to go through was revealing.

The story takes place by the town store. The bus stop was also outside the store, where many of the characters were waiting for the bus. Jeremy Simms, a ten-year-old white boy, was interested in talking to all of these characters. However, one particular black family, the Logan's, were not interested in talking to him. Jeremy was faced with a difficult dilemma. He was torn between what he felt was right and what his father and the other white men in the town felt was right. Every time he witnessed an injustice, he tried to comfort or let the black people know that he did not agree with the way they were being treated. Despite his constant feel of sympathy for the blacks in the community, the oldest Logan boy, Stacey, did not warm up to Jeremy. In the end, a trust is built between the two boys.

I thought the book was very realistic and appropriate when explaining racism and segregation to children. The ending was my favorite part and really brought the book together. There is a heart-shaking catastrophe that brings that book to a close.

I am simply facinated by the Logan series that Mildred D. Taylor has created. Born and raised in Mississippi, I have seen first hand the actions that Taylor writes about. I share the books with my students. I plan to read this one next week. I can't wait. Mississippi Bridge gives us a look into the character Jeremy Simms. The story is one of pride and human nature. This story, along with Taylor's others, is an excellent teaching tool. Children of all ages can learn from our past mistakes through these touching and true to life stories. I highly recommend ANY and ALL of the Logan series books!

As with anything David Oshinsky writes, this book is well written, informative, and striking in its accurate portrayal of race relations in the post Civil War south. Oshinsky is a masterful storyteller, and has woven a beautiful narrative from some of the most horrid abuses ever chronicled in this country. This book should be standard reading for all college level history students. This stands with Oshinsky's masterpiece -- A Conspiracy So Immense -- as the informative book of that genre. And congratulations to Jesse the Body Ventura.

Most of us associate the word slavery with the antebellumSouth. David M. Oshinsky brilliantly chronicles the aftermath of theCivil War in the heart of Dixie and exposes the ensuing camouflaged forms of slavery, "prison labor" and "convict leasing", that thrived for generations. Not only does the author recount the inconceivable conditions suffered by prisoners of Parchman Farm, but also reconciles the social, political, and legal environments that fabricated these new "forms" of slavery. The South's steadfast resistance to change, coupled with its dependence upon slave labor, produced a justice system designed to swiftly convict blacks of misdemeanor crimes while blatantly ignoring whites for similar charges. The imprisonment of blacks during the reconstruction era through the late 1950's, provided cheap labor for state and local governments, which subsequently assimilated their sweat and blood into the economy. Due to the lack of singular ownership of the condemned, black prisoners frequently died in the fields, the forests, and the mines, and endured inhumane treatment "worse than slavery". This incredible book delves well beyond the pastures of Parchman Farm, unearthing a disgraceful portrait of the South and revealing the deliberate reluctance of the North to enforce the change sacrificed for in the Civil War.

David M. Oshinsky's "Worse than Slavery": Parchman Farm and the Ordeal of Jim Crow Justice, tells yet another piece of recent, uncomfortable American history which must not be forgotten. Mississippi, like other southern states after the Civil War, did not deal well with freed blacks, and developed the system of "Jim Crow justice" which, in many respects, replicated slavery. Initially, the state leased prisoners -- usually blacks -- to private individuals, usually to pick cotton and do other heavy labor. As Oshinsky presciently concludes, this resulted in a more onerous existence for the black contract workers than when they were slaves. Owners, at least, had a vested interest in keeping their slaves fed and clothed, as they represented a substantial investment of capital. Persons leasing convict labor had no such capital investment, and, as a result, had no incentive (other than humanitarian, which, Oshhinsky notes, usually begged the question in white southern minds as to whether blacks were "human" at all) to keep workers from starving or working to death. The system of convict labor, considered "enlightened" by many at the time - and a great source of profit for the State - was an exercise in barbarism.

Parchman Farm, a huge cotton plantation in the Mississippi delta, represented an improvement, in that Mississippi itself owned and operated the farm and tended to feed and house the convicts. The system, however, was far from just, in that prisoners were armed and chosen to guard their fellow inmates, profit was a main goal and justification of the system, and no effort was made to rehabilitate the inmates. Only in the last quarter of this century was Parchman reformed through a series of federal court orders defining the situation as "cruel and unusual punishment."

Oshinsky writes extremely well, and both his research and insight are impressive. If one wants an example of how Reconstruction did not work, and the lives of rural southern blacks up through the civil rights victories of the last few decades, I recommend this book highly.

Eudora Welty possessed a remarkable talent for crawling into the skin of her characters--and Edna Earl Ponder is one of her most astonishing creations. Like her widely anthologized short story "Why I Live at the P.O.," Welty's short novel THE PONDER HEART is written as a monologue, giving the reader the unexpected sensation of sitting across the front porch from Edna Earl herself as she determinedly relates the story of how her eccentric Uncle Daniel unexpectedly found himself on trial for murder in their tiny Mississippi town.

THE PONDER HEART is a masterpiece of American humor. The humor of the novel is not, however, so much in the story (amusing though it is) as in the way it is told. Edna Earl has a typically Southern knack for turning a colorful phrase, and throughout her narrative she takes us on a tour of the best of Southern venacular, tossing off several memorable comments and laugh-out-loud descriptions on every page--particularly when it comes to white trash Bonnie Lee Peacock, who marries the addlepated Uncle Daniel on a trial basis. And if you're not Southern enough to completely grasp the definition of "white trash," that most Southern of perjoratives, Edna Earl will leave you in no doubt as to what precisely it means.

Welty wrote considerably deeper works than THE PONDER HEART--her stunning short stories and the Pulitizer Prize winning novel THE OPTIMIST'S DAUGHTER come quickly to mind--but for pure-dee down home humor Edna Earl, Uncle Daniel, Bonnie Lee, and the Peacock family are hard to beat. A touching, hilarious, and extremely memorable work that you'll probably return to again and again! Strongly recommended.

Endearing and funny, with a wonderfully satiric narrative style,
award-winning author Eudora Welty's exquisite, but tender and loving portraits invite us to laugh at the absurd frailties of the human animal. The slightly backward, small southern town of Clay is the setting for Edna Earle's rambling tale of her Uncle Daniel Ponder and his unique eccentricities. While perhaps not exciting (or readable) enough for the youngest teens, adult readers should enjoy this madcap window on southern life.

Uncle Daniel is a simple, gentle, kindly, guileless, and above all generous soul, who loves to give things away. Fortunately, Grandpa Ponder is "rich as Croesus", but even his resources are limited. In an effort to find someone to give more things to, Uncle Daniel becomes enamored of one Bonnie Dee Peacock, a suitably mindless twit who agrees marry him "on trial". Things are rocky enough for the happy couple, when an unexpected death
throws the whole town into turmoil. The book's conclusion may seem silly to some, but is not so very unbelievable given the context.

The only thing to be said against this precious little gem of a book is that it doesn't have much of an impact - there are no great issues being debated here, or at least the aren't presented explicitly. Reading between the lines though, some fundamental human values are being affirmed, to wit: family loyalty, kindness toward those with special needs, and good old-fashioned Christian charity. A delightful, uniquely American entertainment, even if it is rather light weight.

"The South impresses its image on the Southern writer from the moment he is able to distinguish one sound from another," Flannery O'Connor wrote in her 1963 essay "The Catholic Novelist in the Protestant South," and Eudora Welty expressed a similar sentiment roughly 20 years later in her memoir "One Writer's Beginnings," when she wrote that ever since she had first been read to, and then started to read herself, there had never been a line that she had not *heard* as her eyes followed the words on the page, possibly out of the desire to read as a listener. And indeed, as Flannery O'Connor remarked in the above-mentioned essay, "the Southern writer's greatest tie with the South is through his ear."

While proof of the truth of these statements can be found throughout the literature written by both of these preeminent Southern novelists, Eudora Welty's novella "The Ponder Heart" is perhaps one of the most obvious examples thereof as it is actually written in the form of a monologue, addressed to an imaginary traveler who happens to find himself - by force of circumstance rather than plan - in the small town of Clay, Mississippi, somewhere off the main highway and not quite halfway between Tupelo and the Mississippi-Alabama border, in Edna Earle Ponder's Beulah Hotel; face to face with the hostess. "My Uncle Daniel's just like your uncle, if you've got one ... he loves society and he gets carried away," she immediately tells her visitor about her Uncle Daniel's "one weakness" and proceeds, without further ado, to tell her family's story; thus proving herself afflicted by that same weakness of "getting carried away," and as the reader/listener soon discovers, it is just as impossible to get a word in with her narrative as it is with Uncle Daniel Ponder.

But then, you don't even really want to interrupt her: too often she makes you smile or laugh out loud at her descriptions of family and townsfolk, too much you are getting caught up in the story, and too acute is the appearance of her observations. For no doubt, Eudora Welty was not only a keen observer of Southern society; she also mastered the transformation of her observations into the written word with a skill matched only by a select few of her fellow Southern writers. And true to Welty's reflection in her memoir - and to her desire to write as a listener, as much as she used to read as a listener - it is impossible not to actually hear Edna Earle talking to you as you turn the pages, in that unmistakable drawl which seems to roll past your ears languidly, much like the waves of the mighty Mississippi, and which smells of bourbon and magnolias.

Thus, in the space of less than 200 pages, we make the acquaintance of Grandpa Ponder, whose fortune would become Edna Earle's to watch over and Uncle Daniel's to give away, Uncle Daniel's first wife Miss Teacake Magee nee Sistrunk (who sang at her own wedding, which turned out to be bad luck because the marriage didn't hold), his second wife Bonnie Dee Peacock ("a little thing with yellow fluffy hair," white trash as trash can be, who after a couple months' marriage "on trial" declared the trial over and left town, but was later lured back to Clay, much to her own misfortune) and of course Uncle Daniel himself, a big man with a big heart and only seemingly a simple soul who constantly needs minding, first by his father (Grandpa Ponder), then by Edna Earle - but who surprises you again and again with his unexpected, only half-conscious witticisms and insights: a veritable court jester in the medieval tradition with the flair of a 20th century gentleman raised in the traditions of the old South. And the story that unfolds before your eyes and ears is as colorful as its protagonists, from Uncle Daniel's early commitment to an asylum to his trial for Bonnie Dee Peacock's murder, with an outcome as wildly unexpected as only Daniel Ponder could have caused it.

Flannery O'Connor, who likewise created many a character who could have populated the world of Eudora Welty's "The Ponder Heart," said that whenever she was asked why Southern writers in particular seemed to have a tendency to write about freaks, this was "because we are still able to recognize one." She warned, however, that outlandish as they might be, the heroes of modern Southern literature are not primarily intended to be comic but rather, prophetic figures reminding us of a long-forgotten responsibility, and she noted that *any* fiction coming out of the South was invariably liable to be called "grotesque," unless it actually was grotesque, in which case it would be called "photographic realism." ("The Catholic Novelist in the Protestant South.") And Eudora Welty, whose keen sense of observation in fact did find expression not only in her writing but also in a number of celebrated collections of photography, called location, in an essay written the same year as "The Ponder Heart," "the crossroads of circumstance" and "the heart's field;" intrinsically linked to the emotions and experiences described in any good piece of fiction writing. ("Place in Fiction," 1954.) In that sense, "A Ponder Heart" is a piece of Southern fiction in the best literary tradition - in addition to which, it is a pure delight to read.

This is a must-read for anyone interested in the civil rights struggle of the 60's. It is a very readable and detailed account of the murder of Medgar Evers by Byron de la Beckwith. This is one of those books I thought I would leaf through, but I got so absorbed that I read it in one sitting.

This book is definitely not what you would call fun to read, but it is a stirring and important document. The author commits a few infelicities of language (for which I would have deducted the quarter-star if I could) but keeps the narrative tension high and sheds a lot of light for this Yankee girl on the kind of culture that made a man like Medger Evers loyal to the state of Mississippi even though it was a state that would allow his murderer to go unpunished for decades. It doesn't gloss over the warts of those on the side of the angels, and although it doesn't fully explain the psychology of the assassin, perhaps no one can.

I picked up Ghosts of Mississippi several years ago but tucked it away for a rainy day. De la Beckwith's death earlier this week (and a California rain storm) prompted me to dust it off. I now regret not having read it years ago. Maryanne Vollers' work is, in short, a masterpiece. Her amazing investigative skills and craftmanship left me wanting to read more. Logging on today to write this review, I was thrilled to see that Vollers has a new book out (Ice Bound). This time I won't wait!

In his book, Belue has carefully researched and written an account of the death of the buffalo east of the Mississippi. In a greater sense, this work examines life on the frontier as well as the history of trade and colonization of the frontier. The author uses personal accounts, journals, and memoirs of the traders, long hunters and trappers who played a role in the settlement of the frontier as a basis for the work. I highly recommend as well as the author's other works on the life of Daniel Boone.

Chronicling the demise of buffalo that ranged between the Blue Ridge and the Mississippi, this book includes previously unpublished material on flora, fauna, and Woodland and Southeastern Indians. Living historians will find useful information on arms, accoutrements, attire, and frontier skills and lifestyles. --Living History, Spring 1997

Buffalo history enthusiasts will find that Ted Belue's book is written just for them. While there are a number of effective historical, nonfiction books on the American buffalo available, this one has the advantage of focusing attention specifically on the death of the buffalo east of the Mississippi. This noteworthy recounting of buffalo and their gruesome end gives a realistic picture of what occurred. Belue provides readers with enough information to gain both insight and comprehension. By the 1820s, the eastern buffalo herds were gone. The author uses many quotes from early chronicles to illustrate a vivid account of the hardships hunters encountered as well as the plight of the buffalo east of the Mississippi. Belue's careful research is evident and reinforced by the excellent selection of black-and-white photographs and old maps. The glossary, index, and selected annotated bibliography are very helpful to the reader. This book is written on a slightly higher reading level and is very comprehensive. This title will fill a gap in most collections and will appeal particularly to readers of American buffalo history. This book would be a welcome addition to any "buffalo/bison" book shelf.

If you are interested in plot, the professional reviews give the essential information, but if you have just discovered Martin Hegwood and enjoy mystery/detective novels consider this book as your key to the character of Jack Delmas. Sometimes, as in this case, the author's first novel (Big Easy Backroad) does not give the full motivation behind a character. To really find out what is going on, one must explore a bit. Frequently I find a series I like, either through a friend or luck, and then start working the back trail. As I do so, I often find a book such as this novel that has it all, plot, motivation, interesting detail. If you are new to Martin Hegwood and Jack Delmas, and you like what you have read, you owe yourself this one.

Martin Hegwood is another Mississippi attorney turned author. He has set this novel's plot on the modern Mississippi Gulf Coast where private investigator Jack Delmas, a native of the area, finds himself between a declining shrimping industry and a booming tourist industry with luxury hotels and casinos. there are wheelers and dealers, corrupt politicians, shrimp fishermen, and businessmen ranging from a shade-tree mechanic to a successful restaurateur. The novel presents a good picture of an area in transition where most people want a piece of the pie, but some people would rather be beach bums. The novel contains lots of local color about the area.

When Jack's longtime friend, the Croatian shrimper Casper Perinovich, dies in an explosion and fire at his home, Jack is drawn into the investigation and stirs up things people would prefer to keep buried. The story has considerable action, and Jack sustains some damage to his person and his pickup (messing with a southern boy's pickup can be as bad as messing with his woman). Along the way, Jack rekindles an old flame.

This is a good novel for commuters as the 272 pages are divided into 41 chapters.

I graduated from high school with Martin, and was surprised to learn that he had authored some mystery novels. The first one I was able to read was The Green-Eyed Hurricane. Only a native (or former native) can tell how beautifully Martin's descriptions of the area and people reflect the reality of the Coast. His descriptions of the sun reflecting on oyster shells in a driveway, or the scent of a freshly mowed lawn where the grass is mixed with wild onions were viscerally evocative to me. How many times did I experience these sensations as I grew up? The small details he included only increased the believability of the picture for me. The characters he has developed are only perfect. I found the plot to be extremely believable, as I know something of the history of Biloxi. It fits.

Three-and-a-half stars. There is nothing about The Hamlet that will surprise fans of Faulkner's work: it is a dense novel written in the author's trademark style--mind-bending prose that often leaves one wondering what in the world just happened. But it's worth it, because The Hamlet is the springboard for Faulkner's impressive Snopes trilogy. What happens in this book sets the stage for the more entertaining (and more accessible) The Town and The Mansion. Flem Snopes emerges as a force to be reckoned with, and the manic antics of his redneck relatives propels the narrative forward with enough momentum that the reader, at novel's close, is curious to learn what happens when the diabolical genius of Flem Snopes is loosed on Jefferson. Read it: but keep in mind that it all gets more interesting in the books that follow.

He evidently has no idea of how to read text that makes certain demands upon the reader. Faulkner's writing is complex, sometimes difficult, yes. But if you read with even the smallest amount of serious attention, you will see that Faulkner knows precisely what he is doing, that those long sentences make perfect sense, and this is seldom more in evidence than in The Hamlet, one of Faulkner's finest works. If you can't take it, fine. Go back to reading John Grisham.

Dickens with the DT's. Comic scenes are laced with violence and passion. Drawling horse traders, "dumb like a fox," seek to outdo each other, with farcical results. A shotgun blast cuts short a life we had come to find fascinating, and we're jolted. The images are laid on top of each other like thick paint on a canvas. Somehow, Faulkner makes it possible for us to hear and see and smell it all at once. This is not so much a book as an enchantment, a spell.

This book gives what appears to be an almost complete and factual account of the events of the enrollment of James Meredith at Ole Miss. Having first hand experience of being there as a staff member in the Office of the Registrar, I was drawn to this book and find it flows well and coordinates time lines in an understandable format. It can easily be read in two evenings and makes you feel as though you were there. A must for anyone interested in history.

William Doyle has written an excellent account of the events surrounding Meredith's entry into Ole Miss. Particularly noteworthy is his detailed account of the behind the scenes negotiations between the Kennedys and Mississippi's segregationist governor, Ross Barnett. The book's depiction of the riot is also rich: Doyle vividly potrays the chaos that reigned in Oxford during the riot. The narration is gripping and this book is an entertaining read.

I thought the book was not nearly as strong in the final 30 pages. There is no clear direction to the book's "conclusion." Doyle sort of vasillates between providing updates on the book's main characters and attempting to place the riot into a historical perspective. While both are interesting, this portion of the book drags on.

Overall, a very enjoyable read.

I found this book to be very enlightening. It is a factual account of the clash between the United States Government and the State of Mississippi. Anyone who has been to Oxford would find it hard to imagine that those events actually occurred. It is a great example of our constitution being put to the test.