Very few books about nature can compete with time actually spent in nature. But this comes very close. Don Shuler tells the story of his 20+ year careful and loving relationship with an abused and exhausted piece of land in the Mississippi sand hills. His simple storytelling style makes vivid the plants, animals, birds and human beings that he finds in this special place. These encouters are so carefully described that I felt that I was experiencing them along with him. And I wanted very much to read all that he might have edited out of this volume. The book is sweet, poignant, and filled with an animist's sense of humility and wonder. I am very surprised it is not more widely known and up there with the A Sand County Almanac.

Why this book doesn't have a bigger following is beyond me. For anyone who's ever dreamed of owning a place in the country, this is a delightful, funny, informative and beautifully written book. Refreshingly, there's not a self-indulgent sentence in the entire text. Schueler delves into all facets of the city/suburban person's adjustment to country life. And because the memoir takes place over the course of 25 years, you get to see the impressive results of he and his partner's devotion to their land. I highly recommend it.

Why this book does not have a larger audience is a mystery tome. It is far more interesting, engaging, funny, educational and identifiable than Thoreau, IMHO. This is a guidebook for anyone who wants to buy land in the country -- or just wants to dream about it from the living room of his/her quarter-acre suburban property. Arborists will love it. One might think, given the various potential stereotypes at play (late 60s; gay men, etc.) that the book might have a strongly "granola," or countercultural, flavor. Not at all. It is wonderfully non-self indulgent. Schueler has great self-deprecating humor, and his descriptions of his neighbors and the wild and domesticated animals on his property are marvelous. A great read.

Fine stories of men's world
By ERIC MILES WILLIAMSON

ISLANDS, WOMEN, AND GOD.
By Paul Ruffin.
Browder Springs, $24.95 hardcover,
$16.95 paperback.

PAUL Ruffin, poet, short-story writer and professor at Sam Houston State University in Huntsville, writes about Texas and the Gulf Coast so well that his new story collection is likely to define the literary territory for many years to come.

The 17 stories in the collection are about common people, folks from Texas and Mississippi who live quiet and humble lives -- factory workers, farmers, fishermen, husbands and wives and youngsters and oldsters. Although the characters are common people, the book is not. These stories are masterful, every line honed and tight and true, the sentences spoken by the characters in phrases we've often before heard but never before seen on the page.

Ruffin's work has been compared with that of William Faulkner and Flannery O'Connor, but his stories are not derivative. Rather, they're part of the new wave of Southern fiction generally and Texas fiction specifically, a wave that includes Southerners such as Barry Hannah, Padgett Powell, Chris Offutt and Charlie Smith, and Texas writers such as Glenn Blake and Tracy Daugherty. Not insignificantly, Ruffin occasionally pays tribute to Cormac McCarthy, a Southerner-turned-Texan like Ruffin himself.

Islands, Women, and God is a man's book about the world of men. The stories center on the conflicts inherent in the stifled, brutal and often senseless world of masculinity.

Manhunt, the opening story, is about the apprehension of an escaped convict. The hunters of the convict are local men who normally spend their days selling cars and working for insurance companies, these otherwise calm men turned into bloodthirsty bigots and would-be killers, the manhunt a legal excuse to do what they would be doing were there not the constructs of "civil" society. Underpinning our culture is a violence that needs very little to turn supposedly peaceful family men into primordial beasts, Ruffin seems to say.

In Tattered Coat Upon a Stick, Ruffin writes of an aging man who, rather than live out his days in senility and helplessness, emasculated, chooses to return to the family property in the country and end his life properly and with dignity. His end is far from morbid or maudlin, but instead glorious and beautiful.

Interloper relates the tale of a family man who discovers a burglar in his house and takes care of him. Just before the protagonist of the story meets the burglar, Ruffin writes,

No, it is nothing that would warrant calling the police or awakening your wife, nothing to justify wrenching off a table leg and swinging it wildly through the dark. But it is more than simply nothing. So you must summon whatever resolve you are capable of and go down the stairs into the cold darkness of what a few hours earlier was your warm and well-lit den. You are in charge -- it is your house, your domain, and while your wife and children sleep you must stand watch if there is a threat. This is the law. A very old one.

When Ruffin's men pop, when their natures surface, he is there with some of the most perceptive and powerful observations in American literature, or any literature for that matter.

One of the best stories in the collection, The Sign, shows the brutality of father to son and son to father. At the beginning of the story we find a description of the father beating his son:

"I will beat your skin off, boy. You hold still." And the belt came down time and time again on his back, lapping around his protruding ribs like a devil's tongue, then curling about his legs, snapping until all the feeling went away and there was only sound, only sound -- and he could feel the warm of his blood trailing down from the welts, seeking its way, gathering and dripping. He stood like something carved of wax, not feeling the belt but feeling the blood. He would not cry. He clenched his eyes and teeth, but he would not cry.

The story centers on the father's wedding anniversary and a family reunion. The son returns home for only the second time in 40 years for the event. The father is dying of cancer, and the son exacts his revenge in spectacular and appropriate fashion, not by killing the father but by doing something far worse and more enduring.

The title and final story of the collection, Islands, Women, and God, is about a man named Ray who fakes his own death and deserts his wife and children to live on the barrier islands of the Gulf Coast. He is discovered by a former co-worker and friend, and the story gives occasion for Ruffin to present a sad and unfortunately viable solution to the condition of men: solitude and atavism, regression into an animal state in nature. Ray says, "I'm in harmony, man, with this island, with this Gulf. I got everything I need out here to live, and everything's in balance." Later he explains that every man is called to this state of being:

"It comes for every man. ... Every man. Only most don't know what they're seeing or feeling, or they don't know what to do about it. I'm telling you, Roger, an old man over there [in society] is, as Yeats says, just a scarecrow. Out here he's more. He's everything. He's a skull full of lightning. He's -- he's God, or he's soon going to be, because God is all of this."

We leave the book with Ray on his island and Roger back in civilization, longing to be living on an island of his own, afraid to do so yet wanting to do so.

Islands, Women, and God is an astonishing book. Every page is beautifully written, splendidly rendered and bold. Where weaker writers grow timid and shrivel, Ruffin burrows deep into truths we know but don't admit to knowing. In a time when American writers seem to strive to either shock or soothe, Ruffin instead gives us an honest vision of what lies beneath the veneer of manners and society. He is a master of language and a peerless teller of tales, and he will surely be known as one of the best writers of his generation.

Eric Miles Williamson is the author of the novel East Bay Grease and a graduate of the University of Houston's Creative Writing Program. He lives in Missouri and is at work on his second novel.

Islands, Women, and God. By Paul Ruffin. In Islands, Women, and God, Paul Ruffin returns to the Alabama, Mississippi and Texas regions he rendered so memorable in his 1993 critically acclaimed short story collection The Man Who Would Be God. They are tales of passion, suspense, violence, racial injustice, renewal, and the inexorable human quest for meaning and identity, laced with flashes of humor. Ruffin's ear for dialogue is impeccable, and his narratives are ripped, pulsing and breathing, from the unmistakable fabric of reality. The author wastes no time engaging the reader's attention. On page one of "Manhunt," the first story of section I, in searing prose pungent as the smell of burning flesh, Ruffin drops his reader deep into the pit of human violence. "The Pond" features Gerald Roper, an aging man who trespasses across Mr. Earl Palmer's pasture to fish in an artesian-fed fishpond. During his fishing expedition, Roper snags a great white thing rolling "like a dumpling in oil as the hook pulled loose and the bobber whistled past his head and clattered onto the gravel behind him, and two eyeless sockets in a white face, cradled by trembling reeds, looked right past him toward the ghostly moon." Next the reader finds Roper questioned by a deputy to whom he has gone to confess his shocking finding. Though the deputy, after viewing the "catch" and recognizing what it is, tries to convince Roper he's hooked a pig, Roper adamantly insists that what he snagged was the bloated body of his former mistress. Among the male protagonists of the other stories in section I are Mr. Turner of "Tattered Coat Upon a Stick," who, terminally ill, returns to his beloved Texas hill country to face his own death; Johnny of "The Sign," who, brutally physically abused during his childhood by his father, returns to his home after a lengthy absence and exacts his sweet revenge; the two graduate students of "Corn-Silver" who are hilariously duped by an illiterate, white-trash kid; and Buddy of "The Dog," a tragic figure who, in saving a dog caught up in a trotline, has his nose bitten off by the very beast whose life he saves, only to end up so monstrous in appearance he's abandoned even by his wife and kids, assuming a huge and dark presence "like some kind of old imagined or remembered sin." "The Dog," tragic though it is, is balanced with a moment of hilarity characteristic of Ruffin's brilliant humor. In section II, "woman" takes center stage: woman as "Nature," the mirror of mortality, the instrument of renewal, and seducer. Ruffin bares the hearts and minds of his female characters with a dispassionate clarity reminiscent of the late Eudora Welty. In "Peaches," one of the most sensual stories in the collection, a white woman misinterprets the remark of a black man who tells her that she has "nice peaches." She and her husband, Murle, are peach orchard keepers, and sell peaches in cardboard boxes by the road. Having packed his pistol and journeyed deep into the woods to the black man's cabin to address the presumed insult, he finds him on his porch steps fondling the exposed breasts of his lover. She sees Murle and rushes inside their shack, standing just inside the doorway. Upon repeated questioning by Murle as to what he meant when he said Sally had "nice peaches," Cliff insistently assures him he was only referring to the actual peaches they were selling. Meanwhile, Cliff's lover, realizing his trouble with the white man, seduces him and relieves Murle of his frustration. During the intimacy which ensues, Murle overhears an animal shrieking in the barn. She assures him that it's "just that mule," and that Cliff will stay in the barn until they're finished. Later, after Murle receives the sexual fulfillment he's so long desired, he changes his demeanor toward Cliff completely, feeling like they're friends or brothers. The "gods" revealed in the collection are as multifarious as the men and women who turn to them in their hours of darkness. There's the Great Spirit of the Kiowa in "Tattered Coat Upon a Stick;" the wrathful God of "The Sign;" the jealous God of "Peaches;" the comforting God Buddy turned to in his huge and dark loneliness; and the God of Nature of "The Drought," "April Treason" and "Islands, Women, and God." In many ways, "Islands, Women, and God," the final and title story of the collection, is a brilliant summation of the men and women who dominate the stories preceding it. Ray, the story's protagonist, fakes his death at sea to live out the rest of his life alone on a barrier island off the coast of Mississippi. Philosophizing with his friend, Roger, who "finds" him but swears to keep the find a secret between the two of them so Ray's wife can collect his life insurance, Ray says: "About women. I'm gon' tell you something else about women, some more gospel, long's I got your attention. Women are a hell of a lot closer to the center of things than men are or ever were. They're closer to the Godhead. Women are Nature. Like this island. Man, they got dark currents in them, deeper than ours run, and their bodies and minds are a great mystery, which is why men will never understand'm. They're in synch with the motion of the universe. Men are just dreams, or worse, just half dreams, but women are real. Men look for the reasons, but women are the Reason." With his second collection of stories, Ruffin makes another significant contribution to Southern and American letters. In spare, muscular prose seamless as a tendril of kudzu, Ruffin probes, with haunting insight, the light, darkness and yearning of the human heart. --Larry D. Thomas, author of Amazing Grace

Islands, Women, and God, Stories by Paul Ruffin. Browder Springs Press, 2001. 237 pp. These seventeen stories play themselves out in the Deep South, East Texas, and West Texas, three areas as dissimilar--in geography, social mores, and philosophy--as, say, Iceland, Bolivia, and Ethiopia. And while Paul Ruffin does employ his considerable skill to give vivid descriptions of these places, his poet's eye and voice and heart focuses tighter and truer on his characters, who, as credible characters must be, are spit-polished mirrors of people everywhere. And what a parade of individuals he sends forth. There's Sam, who undertakes, with a tunnel vision worthy of Ahab, to capture an enormous manta ray in "Devilfish". And Mitchell, in "Tattered Coat Upon a Stick", who wants nothing more than to have his ashes scattered among the mesquite bushes and rocks of the place where he grew up, rather than end up planted in the upscale, manicured cemetery that his children insist upon. And Loretta, perhaps the most haunting of the bunch, who uses the only tool at her disposal to save her husband in "Peaches." Loretta, who is black, has to make her unique sacrifice in the unrelenting era of racial inequality. A young insurance salesman, in "Manhunt", must make his among kudzu-draped backwoods. In "The Interloper", a husband and father must seek out something in the dark rather than lose his family to it, and characters in two of the tales choose to face their final darkness on their own terms. Sacrifice and reconciliation abound. Several of the stories chip away at the old, hard strata of established society in their various settings, and prejudice and cruelty and pomposity are served up in equal measure with love and trust and devotion. In "Corn Silver", a haughty graduate student is duped by an ignorant boy; in "The Sign," a middle aged man whose greatest accomplishment was to move permanently away from his harsh, Mississippi delta upbringing must go back to finally confront it. They were his people only in biological fact. From the eldest to the ones in diapers, they were an illiterate lot, mostly day laborers, fundamentalist in their worship and ultra-conservative in whatever politics they followed. If evolution had had a hand in improving the line over the decades, he could not imagine what they must have been like a century before - he doubted that the generations had witnessed much more than a gradual separation of forehead from cheekbones and thinning of hair from the backs and shoulders of the males. And on and on, in trailer parks, at fishing holes, on wide front porches of bourbon swilling lawyers, the themes of facing death, and, perhaps more importantly, facing life, weave their way through. And it is refreshing to read a writer who chooses not to veil his work in deep symbolism and puzzling time shifts. Every offering in Islands, Women, and God is told carefully and beautifully and forthrightly. Like the works of O'Conner and Welty, they don't have be worked at, but simply enjoyed. Whether the situations are humorous--especially when the author's letter perfect use of regional dialect runs rampant--or intense, or sad, the characters ring always true, and might just be the lady you find yourself standing behind in a grocery line. The man leaning over his bacon and eggs down the counter. The little boy not paying attention two pews up. There's a comfort level that comes with recognizing folks--be they lovable or detestable or anywhere in between--and it is as beneficial when reading good fiction as it is when stepping into a crowded room. Some reviewers have said that Ruffin is at his best when writing about fishing, a pursuit that he loves, and is good at. He's managed to work it into his poems and stories countless times and, I agree, it makes for fine reading. But I hold that he shines brightest when dealing with average people facing the daily dilemmas that life and fate just plop down in their paths. In "Drought", a couple of city dwellers have sunk all of their savings into a farm, only to be dealt a stunning setback by nature. In bed that night they listen as frogs and crickets drum and chirp around the ponds and down along the creek. The air is fresh smelling, almost cool. They lie across the bed with their heads at the open window. "I suppose," he says, "that we'll get over this." "Oh, yes, we always do." "Still, wouldn't it be good just once to get something without having to give something up?" "Somehow," she says, "it usually seems to work that way." And it usually does. In stories and in everyday life. Facing each day as it comes. Giving things up. Getting over something. And Ruffin chronicles the delicate dance nicely. In "The Pond", an old man has fallen hopelessly, headlong in love. There were times when but for the fact that he had not a dram of creative blood in him he would have gotten up and written her a poem, so deep was his passion for her. Such is the depth of Paul Ruffin's passion for the ongoing drama of living. And the reader benefits greatly from the fact that his creativity far surpasses a dram. --Ron Rozelle, author of Into That Good Night, The Windows of Heaven, and A Place Apart

I re-read Woodworth's excellent treatise on Jefferson Davis and his involvement in the Western Theater. The chapters are succinct and focus more on strategy than in specific battle details. My favorite parts are the reviews at the end of each chapter. I have always believed that Lee's strategy to invade the North rather than deploying his forces in the West was a major blunder. If there is one salient point that screams from this book it is that Jeff Davis' personal relationships with his generals (Polk??) definitely was a detriment to his decision making. This book should be required reading for high school and undergraduate students. Indeed any leader could profit from the analysis and history rendered here.

This book is a must read to understand the generals, campaigns, strategy, and the thinking of Jefferson Davis in the Western Theater. The book is well-written, informative, and features good analysis of the differing generals, Davis' actions, and some very good mini-biographies of the major players. Although the book does not go into major detail about specific battles, Woodworth does give a good overview of the major campaigns and battles of the West. The book also has some interesting theories on why Davis failed in the West. Although I disagreed with some of Woodworth's conclusions, especially regarding Braxton Bragg's capabilities as a commander, I found his arguments well-reasoned, although I thought he went out of his way to bash James Longstreeet. The major sticking point I had with the book was Woodworth's analysis on Bragg and his theory that J.E. Johnston thought the CSA's cause was doomed so he didn't really try to win. I thought that was utter nonsense, but that was really my only quarrel with the book. Well-written, informative, just an excellent book.

After reading 'Davis & Lee at War' I ordered this book from my local book shop and I loved it, more so than the first book. The author explains the relationships between Davis and his Generals who were trusted with the Confederacy's command in the West. That so much damage could be done to the Southern cause by these men in petty infighting is amazing. Beside analysising the Command/Leadership relationships it provides an overview of the battles and fighting in that theatre of operations. I highly recommend this book, it's a great read.

Much of our common knowledge of U.S. civil rights movement's history comes from books and films portraying the nationally known struggles of the 1950s and 1960s. This book tells a different story - the struggles of the largely African American activists who, working without the benefit of the national spotlight, sought to open up the closed society of Mississippi to equal treatment for its African American citizens. It was a tremendous and extremely dangerous task. Mississippi was the toughest nut to crack among the Southern states. It was the most impoverished state in the union, where subjugation of African Americans was strictly enforced through intimidation, violence, disenfranchisement, job firings and economic ruin. Any sympathetic whites who dared to even question Mississippi justice were financially ruined and all but run out of the state. In this seemingly impossible to change social, political, and economic climate, a movement of local Mississippi African Americans emerged, with the help of activists from other states, who challenged the situation head-on by attempting to empower African Americans through voter registration drives, by attempting to set up cooperatives in order to gain economic power, and through education. The emphasis was not so much on organizing for desegregation of public facilities as it was on changing the power structure of Mississippi, to enfranchise its African American citizens and gain for them political and economic justice. Working from the bottom up, these activists had few allies, were largely ignored by the national media, and faced life threatening dangers on a daily and nightly basis. Many were savagely beaten, shot at, and repeatedly jailed. Several were murdered. They persisted, working diligently and out of the spotlight. Local People details the successes and failures of these every day struggles, and by doing so, lifts this aspect of the movement from obscurity to its rightful place in history. Prof. Dittmer is a first-rate writer - this book is very hard to put down once you start reading it. What emerges is a portrait of some of the most courageous people in our nation's history, such as Fannie Lou Hamer, Amzie Moore, and Bob Moses, and the local people who responded to the activists efforts. Local People is essential reading for any true understanding of the civil rights movement.

In my opinion this work looks at the civil rights movement in a way that all historians shoud take note of. Dittmer's in-depth bottom up look at the way movements happen allows a deeper understanding of the incredible struggles that local Mississippians went through for a few small steps toward racial equality. It also knocks the national leaders (JFK, LBJ, MLK) off the pedestals that mainstream history has placed under them and shows the truly peripheral role that they played in the struggle.

If you have any interest in the civil rights movement in Mississippi, this is the work you should turn to. It has great depth and is written with an enthusiastic flair that is not often found in similar works. I echo the comment....you won't be able to put it down until the last page is read.

Crowe, Chris. Mississippi Trial, 1955. 2002. Phyllis Fogelman/Penguin Inc. 9-12.
This book is based on the true story of Emmett Till, a fourteen-year-old African American boy from Chicago who came south to visit relatives in Mississippi in the fall of 1955. A fish out of water in Mississippi, his behavior did not fit the accepted norm for behavior for a black person in the south at that time. Talking familiarly to a married white woman and being bold enough to whistle at her condemned him, in spite of his youth, to torture and death.

This extraordinary book will haunt you long after you finish reading it. It is a well-written tale with a constantly increasing tension and fully rounded and developed characters. This book is a terrible indictment of those good and loving citizens who had the secret dark side of the Clan hidden under their smiling faces. This is the coming of age story of a young white boy who goes back to visit his beloved grandfather and finds a world he was too young and innocent to see when he visited as a child. Hiram finds the difficulty in facing darkness is not the darkness that lies hidden in strangers, but the darkness hidden in ourselves and those we love. This book will win awards.

Martin Luther King, Jr., Rosa Parks, Malcolm X, Montgomery Bus Boycott, Freedom Rides, and the March on Washington. But one name and event is often missing: Emmett Till, a fourteen-year-old black boy from Chicago who was brutally murdered, his body dumped in the Tallahatchie River, for allegedly whistling at a white woman.
Told though the eyes of Hiram Hillburn, a white teenager who has come to spend the summer with his grandfather, the reader is taken into the heart of racism at a time when the passions of the south were volatile and violent. Hiram sees changes in his beloved south, his friends, and even his grandfather; changes which make him doubt his own safety. Hiram witnesses R.C. Rydell force Emmett to eat a raw fish at knife-point. Hiram's grandfather offers no sympathy, warning that "colored boys should know better than to push themselves on white folks." After Emmett is murdered, Hiram doesn't want to stay silent, he wants the truth to be told, even if it uncovers secrets about his own family.
Discuss of racism as it stands in our country today, and what can be done to prevent it.

The trial of Emmett Till's murderers is a story everyone needs to hear about and this story is told in such a clear and enjoyable way, that all who read it will want to delve deeper into the history. I read it clean through in one sitting, never getting bored or tired. It is a clever blend of fact and fiction, the language captivates without distracting, and the events are so compelling the book leaves the reader rethinking life choices. Great for children and adults alike. In fact, I think this book can catch even the reluctant readers.

Bobby Delaughter was a prosecutor of the right timbre, morals, and courage at the right time to help bring justice in a 30-year old murder case. This riveting book tells how, in the face of extreme odds, his faith was brought to the forefront, to show that God really does care and uses people such as Delaughter to produce what He desires most - justice. In this book, we see not only a story of Mississippi's catharsis in turning from a place of race-baiting politicians and of organized Ku Klux Klanism to a place where justice can truly be done, but also a story of the touching emotional struggle of the victims and prosecutors alike. As prosecutors face great opposition from not only racists and self-seeking politicians, but also from well-meaning but skeptical black and white citizens and even an arrogant FBI, they rise above the ordinary at great personal and political cost. As an attorney, I coined the phrase, "sometimes truth is very hard to come by." This story embodies that principle. The efforts of Mr. Delaughter and his D.A. boss should be applauded and lauded as a great triumph, not just for the machinery and tools of this great country's ever-grinding legal system, for they are but lifeless concepts apart from the souls that man their stations, but also for those with virtue and conscience, who are the fuel and oil without which there would be no production of justice.

I had been interested by the story of Medgar Evers and the difficulty the state had in prosecuting his alleged killer for some time. When the State of Mississippi reopened the case for a potential third attempt at prosecution I was hopeful that some sense of justice might be achieved but not at all convinced that the then alleged killer would be found guilty of Medgar Evers' murder. Bobby De Laughter has written an insightful, thoughtful and intriguing book. As I read his account of the various threads of the story, the leads the DA's office had to develop to prosecute this case after so many years and the elements of good fortune that allowed this case to be pursued successfully I could not help but feel the presence of Medgar Evers. The goodness of the man and his persistent quest for justice is echoed in the actions of Mr. De Laughter, Ms. Myrlie Evers, the many dogged investigators and committed professionals who played their part in making the third trial come together.

This is a great read, so compelling I could not put it down. In many ways this book reads like a mystery. So much of what was needed to prepare the case against Byron De La Beckwith was lost during the long period between the killing and the final trial. Twice shut out, the stakes couldn't have been higher for the prosecution in this third outing. The book is no less suspenseful because the verdict is known. Although an intensely personal account, Mr. DeLaughter clearly and consicely explains the legal hurdles the prosecution faced and incisively analyzes the behavior and motivations of the defendant. Mr. De Laughter is widely descibed as very private, but in his writing he and his experience are so accessible the reader feels as if s/he is there every step of the way. This is an intelligent and inspiring work that should not be missed.

Then Assistant District Attorney (now Judge) DeLaughter helps do much to portray modern day Mississippi as it is, and dispel the hackneyed and narrow minded portrayals of the state as the last great bastion of racism. Judge DeLaughter is modern Mississippi, with an unwavering sense of justice, fairness, and a dedication to bring the guilty to trial. A movie was made regarding this incident, but this succinct and well written book lends such a better understanding that it must be recommended even if one has seen the movie. This is the face of modern Mississippi, and of this we are proud.

Frances Parkman was a man who lived and breathed his history. He not only researched his subjects thoroughly, but seems to have crawled inside their heads as well.

Parkman's gift for bringing people alive is nowhere more evident than in this complex story of Robert Cavalier de la Salle's attempt to realize his dream of making France a leader in the new world. Parkman's skillful examination of the man behind the story lets the reader understand why LaSalle and his ideas were the cause of such controversy. At the same time, Parkman paints a vivid picture of the new world frontier as it existed in LaSalle's time. This is a book that can be savored on many levels: as an entertaining adventure story, a psychological thriller, and a historical reference.

Parkman's prose is rich and full of details you will need to understand the complexity of the charcters and the consciousness of the times. Therefore, you should be prepared to spend time working your way through this book. Whenever I tried to hurry through a section, I found that I missed something important that was needed later on. In other words, patience is needed, but well worth it. Parkman was a true lover of history and the people who shaped it and it shows.

I picked this up on a lark and found I couldn't put it down. A fascinating story, extremely well written and a pure pleasure to read. I travel extensively and found it amazing how many places I go to regularly have a direct link to La Salle. Couldn't recommend it more.

While there is a new Introduction, this is the historic account of Robert LaSalle's exploration of the Louisiana territory in the 1680s. Parkman first published this treatise in 1869; it has since been reprinted numerous times. An excellent, thoroughly engrossing recounting of the exploration of the territory which LaSalle claimed for France in 1682, through which the reader not only learns of the daily travails of the little band of explorers, but also, the human frailties of the man, Robert Cavelier, known as LaSalle. This book gives life to a name from history, and exemplifies the methodical research done by Parkman in the days before telephones, faxes, and copiers. I was thoroughly impressed by the subject and the writer. Excellent; informative, totally enthralling reading-writers of today should take note! Kudos to the publishers (and Krakauer) for bringing this series (back) to life!

Leroy and the Old man was an interesting book. While I was reading it, I began to get more and more into the story line. The book was about a boy named Leroy who had witnessed a murder and went to grandfather whom he didn't know. Thier relationship grew and they became like the family the never were.

In the Blink Of an Eye

In the blink of an eye everything can change. Leroy Chambers was just a regular 18 year-old guy working in a kitchen in downtown Chicago, when he gets off the elevator at the wrong time and witnesses a murder. The murderers were caught and they think he turned them in. Now he's hiding from them with his grand father. It's a great book and I liked how it showed what life was like in this area of Chicago with all the hatred and racism, where you have to sleep below the windows afraid of being shot and how it differs from the fun-loving life in Mississippi and New Orleans where your skin color doesn't matter and everyone is treated the same.

I read the book Leroy and the Old Man. I think that this book was a great book and I rate it a 10 out of 10. I liked this book because it had great details and you always knew what was going on. I never had to stop and read a sentance again because I didn't get it. Or, another example is, that the book always stayed on one subject at a time. It never went from one problem to another or anything. A book I thought was especially similiar to Leroy and the Old Man, was a book called The Outsiders. I think that they are similiar because they both have to do with surviving problems that they have with other groups of people. If I had to rate this book, I would rate it a perfect 10. I would also rate it iwth 5 stars.

I read this book in elementary school and went looking for it again last year as a gift for a niece. Be warned that there's a scene that she found really sad (Minn gets hurt) -- and it made her cry. So maybe it's not for sensitive first-graders. Still, the story is wonderful and little Minn is a great character. There's also a lot of fascinating natural detail. And stunning illustrations. It's a children's book version of a top-notch Nature documentary. "Nova" in print, if you will. Also check out Holling Clancy Holling's other books. They're all great, even looking back at them after three decades.

At age 52, I can vividly remember discovering this book in my local library as a boy in 4th grade, especially the luminous color illustrations and drawings Hollings used to tell the story of the journey of a snapping turtle from the Mississippi's trickling source in Minnesota, to its fullness in the Gulf of Mexico. In following the life of "Minn," from hatchling to a veteran survivor of many predators and adventures, I learned the history and lore of the river and the animals and people who live in it and along its banks. This is a book that does not talk down to its young readers. I am buying one now to read again, and to share with any grandchildren who may come along in our family.

I discovered this book when I was in fourth grade. I thought it was the best book ever written. I especially enjoyed the juxaposition of the biology of the snapping turtle with the history and geography of the Mississippi River

"Vicksburg," Book 5 in James Reasoner's Civil War Battle Series continues the Soap Opera saga about the Brannon Family, this time around focusing on wandering son Cory and the Western Theater of the war. Most of the action happens concurrently with some of the events covered in the previous volume, "Chancellorsville" and I assume the next book will be "Gettysburg" and provide some overlap as well. Of course, Vickburg is more of a siege than a battle, and my biggest complaint is that we do not really get a sense of that siege. The last couple of months fly bye quite quickly and suddenly the city is being surrendered to Grant's Union forces. But the driving force of the narrative is not the attempt to take the last Confederate stronghold on the Mississippi River but whether Cory will live long enough to marry his beloved Lucille Farrell. Even though he is still a civilian, Cory manages to become involved in all sorts of escapades that put him in the right place at the right time to be around during the key fighting in this campaign.

The centerpiece of the novel is when Cory joins Nathan Bedford Forrest on his famous raid behind Union lines, but it is hard to focus on the military engagements when our hero is paying attention the calendar and trying to figure out if he can make it back to Vicksburg in time for his planned wedding. At other times Reasoner reduces major military operations to a few concise paragraphs so we can get back to our young lovers. However, I must say that that just when it seemed like Lucille was going to carry out an act of vulgar stupidity in the name of love, she actually did the smart thing. But ultimately things move too quickly to really give us a sense of how long and hard of a struggle the siege of Vicksburg was for those trapped in the city.

All of these books are perfect for a day at the beach or wherever you head for vacation this summer. As with the rest of the series, "Vicksburg" is more of a Soap Opera than a military history, and devote Civil War buffs are going to note every opportunity passed over to make this lengthy tale more authentic. Readers of the series know full well that the particular "battle" that serves for the title of each book is only going to pop up at the end, so the series title remains something of a misnomer. However, we know the Brannon family is not going to make it through this war unscathed and it will be interesting to see which of the clan is left standing at the end.

In Vicksburg, despite the courageous efforts of Cory Brannon and his companions to bring supplies to the embattled city, the Union noose continues to tighten, as the Yankees are determined to seize the last obstacle to Northern control of the Mississippi River.

Cory and his now-fiancee, Lucille Farrel, face multiple perils of their own, as they plan for a wedding. Circumstances will conspire to interfere with those plans, as Cory, despite his best intentions, finds himself on yet another dangerous mission for the Confederacy.

Once again, VICKSBURG had me looking forward to the next volume in The Civil War Battle Series. James Reasoner writes characters who the reader truly cares about, even a Yankee such as myself. And, as always, his books are meticulously researched. These are not the books for a Civil War buff interested only in the minute details of each battle of the war, but for anyone interested in lively historical fiction, all the books in this series are highly recommended.

This 5th in the series is WONDERFUL as are the first 4. I read this one in about 2 nights 'cause I couldn't put it down! My only complaint is that Mr. Reasoner doesn't get the sequels published quick enough - please hurry with the others. These are books that rank right up there with others that I own that I could easily read over and over.

Keep up the good work!!!