Not actually a "letter," though it had to be originally presented as such for him to be allowed to write it while in prison, *De Profundis* is Wilde's masterpiece--one has to have really lived and really, really suffered to have written it and it's amazing that he achieved it.

I only very recently read it--and "got" it. It rings true to me, and is very, very moving and "profound." It ain't summer beach reading.

Wilde is still and will probably always be best known as a "Personality"--that and the author of a couple of decent period plays, a short novel, a few stories, and lots of forgettable poems and such. But THIS--THIS is IT.

He really WAS a great writer, it turns out, after all.

One of the most famous - and infamous - letters in all of literature, De Profundis is a strange little piece of work: either much more than it appears on the surface, or much less. It is something I think everyone should read, if only for its insight into the human character, particularly that of one under great personal suffering. Wilde wrote this extraordinarily long letter from prison to Lord Alfred Douglas, his friend, lover, and the man who - by all accounts - was the reason Wilde was in jail in the first place. Despite repeated assertions in the first few pages alone to the contrary, Wilde seems reluctant to blame himself. He clearly blames Douglas to the hilt, and harbors a certain bitter resentment towards him. And yet... he clearly still hold much dear affection toward - and even loves - Douglas. He still seems to be asking for forgiveness - despite the fact that, by all accounts hardly excluding his own, he was the man wronged. It is quite clear from reading this letter that, desite the view history holds of him, Wilde was clearly a man of very high moral character. Certainly, one would not put Wilde atop a pedastal as the zenith of ethics - he himself says that morals contain "absolutely nothing" for him, and clearly admits - and is proud of - his having lived the high life to the hilt during his youth - but Wilde was a man of principles, and he stuck to those principles to the tragic, bitter end. Perhaps you might say he carried them too far. One gets the sense in reading this letter - or a biography of Wilde - that, not only could he have stopped his immiment imprisonment, but could have severed his ties with Douglas completely - had he wanted to. Apparently, he had his own utterly compelling reasons for not doing so. Whatever the case, Oscar Wilde is one of the most fundamentally and perpetually interesting characters in the whole of history. A self-described man of paradoxes - Wilde was subsequently the true essence of his time, while also being far ahead of his time - De Profundis makes for required reading by one of the most endlessly fascinating individuals you'll ever read about, and also provides a startling - indeed, perhaps too much so - insight into human nature.

De Profundis, though long for a letter, is not a long work in the conventional sense. Consequently, as many editions of Wilde's collected works are available, buying this on its own may be deemed questionable. I highly reccommend purchasing a Collected Works of Oscar if you have not done so already - it's well worth the price - but, should you desire to have more compact editions of specific works, an edition such as this will be privy to your needs.

Ah, me...one doesn't know which to be more irritated
and exasperated with: whether it be Walt Whitman doing
his dissembling shuck-and-shuffle about the children
he had sired (to throw off a probing, serious John
Addington Symonds) -- or Oscar, in this "j'accuse," which
he should have spoken while looking in a mirror, rather
than writing it on paper to Lord Alfred.
This is without doubt a fascinating, horrifying,
and yet in places humorous, "piece de Miserere mei"
(to combine a bit of French with Latin).
If one chooses to believe Oscar, his only fault
was weakness in "giving in" to Lord Alfred. Oh,
come now. Blinded by Eros, reason flies out the
door...if ever reason was in control. There are
some sentences which are devastatingly revealing,
but Oscar doesn't seem to see it. "The trivial in
thought and action is charming. I had made it
the keystone of a very brilliant philosophy expressed
in plays and paradoxes." Ye gods, and little fishes!

And this man dared to call himself a "Classicist?!"
Yikes!!!
The best exercise for the reader is to just take
many of the things which Oscar accuses Lord Alfred
of, and turn them toward the self-blind, self-
justifying Oscar, to see their devastating hitting
of the mark. Never having met the young man, but
only having the "benefit" of hearsay (mostly from
Oscar's literary defenders) Lord Alfred seems to have
been calculating, temperamental (using anger to get
his way), manipulative, etc., etc., etc. The best
description of him may be Wilde's referring to him
with the lines from Aeschylus' play AGAMEMNON,
about the lion cub being raised in a house and
being let loose to wreak havoc and ruin.
But Oscar bears his share of blame -- more than just
that of the "sin" of weakness which he constantly falls
back upon in his own justification. Even in the midst
of what purports to be some sort of penitent cry from
the depths of hell...Oscar still is ever the poseur:
"And I remember that afternoon, as I was in the railway
carriage whirling up to Paris, thinking what an impossible,
terrible, utterly wrong state my life had got into, when
I, a man of world-wide reputation, was actually forced
to run away from England, in order to try and get rid
of a friendship that was entirely destructive of everything
fine in me either from the intellectual or ethical point
of view...." Er, when was the last time that the
"everything fine" had last seen the light of day?
Was Oscar an "Artist," as he consistently claims?
Was he the wronged, harmed Artist? Perhaps only the
reader can decide that for himself. Without doubt
he was witty, acerbic, funny, cute, clever, perhaps
even charming (to some -- sort of like a Pillsbury
Dough Boy with flair and a clever tongue), perhaps
stylish (in a frumpy, velveteen sort of way). Was
he wronged by a predatory clinger and manipulator,
and a hypocritical social prudery and class power
play (Oscar is no Socrates--that's for sure!)? He
hardly seems worthy, in some ways, of being a poster-boy
for Gay Pride parades. More likely, he is a better
warning poster boy for the self-excusing, and never
take-responsibility-for-your-own-actions crowd.
But this is an incredible piece to read and think
about. There is some of it that is mordantly hilarious.

"All the Merry Little Breezes of Old Mother West Wind were hurrying over the Green Meadows. Some flew this way and some ran that way and some danced the other way. You see, Jerry Muskrat had asked them to carry his invitations to a party at the Big Rock in the Smiling Pool." Originally published in 1910, the Old Mother West Wind Stories of Thornton W. Burgess are brimming with just this type of endearing and whimsical imagery. They are quaint but clever, sensitive and fun-filled. This lovely book contains sixteen stories featuring many charming woodland characters such as Tommy Trout, Mrs. Redwing, the Willful Little Breeze, Billy Mink, and Little Joe Otter. Burgess was a dedicated conservationist and these stories were intended to instill an abiding love of Nature and wildlife in small children. They do a wonderful job of it and Burgess would be delighted, as I am, in this edition's beautiful illustrations that are the work of the talented Michael Hague. The first illustration in the book, featuring Old Mother West Wind in her flowing grey and blue gown and her long flowing hooded cape, is worth the price of the entire book in and of itself. We have come to expect great things from Hague but he outdoes himself in this book. I'm glad to see these wonderful stories available to another generation of children. Their gentle pastoral nature really is timeless and the less our world sees of natural habitat and woodland creatures the more we need this book. Treat yourself and you children to it. It's one of my favorites.

"Old Mother West Wind", is the first of many stories by Burgess of his imagined world of The Green Forest, the Laughing Brook, and the Smiling Pond. Originally published in 1910, it is based upon a series of bedtime stories Burgess wrote for his son. The characters are inspired by the variety of wildlife Burgess was surrounded by as a child growing up in the yet-uncommercialized Cape Cod, Mass. His love of nature and his desire to instill that love in future generations is conveyed beautifully in these classic tales.

Old Mother West Wind comes down to the Green Meadows from her home in the Purple Hills daily to allow her children, the Merry Little Breezes, to frolic among the residents of the area. In "Old Mother West Wind", you are introduced to many of the characters upon which later books in this series are based. As the back of the book states, "[This book] combines gentle lessons about wildlife and the environment with the fun of a good story". In addition, most tales contain a basic moral lesson (ie. don't steal, don't lie, etc).

Any imaginative child will be captivated by this book. The chapters are short, with simple language that children will identify with, for the most part. Read aloud to pre-readers, or read by children themselves, this book will surely be a family favorite in no time.

This republication by Dover Children's Thrift Editions costs only a dollar. If you are looking to fill in your child's library a little whithout breaking the bank, I highly recommend starting here (and with the other Burgess books). You'll be glad you did.

Note: the next book in publication in this series is the Adventures of Johnny Chuck. While it is not necessary to read the books in order, I just wanted to add that info in case anyone wanted to know.

I read Burgess as a child and have loved him ever since. These wonderful stories inspire a love of animals and a love of nature, but not at the expense of good, old-fashioned American story-telling, and those who dismiss them as "sentimental" are displaying an unbecoming pomposity, in my view. Old Mother West Wind is beautiful classic, a book that escapes the pushy realism of so much contemporary storytelling aimed at children, which is really the choice of the parent, and not the child. Let kids imagine! It'll last them all their lives. What a gift, indeed!

Gandhi found this translation of the Gita to be the best he was able to find. Little more need be said.

The Bhagavadgita is one of the world's true classics of literature. Since it is not part of "western culture" it is often not included in the curriculum of school in the US, much to our loss. This translation is one of the most common, and the Dover edition is incredibly affordale. Being abridged, it is not a text for scholarly studies, but instead provides a great introduction to wisdom from the east... Highly recommended for students and casual readers.

Bhagvad Gita is a Wonderful Poem in Indian Literature (Sanskrit language). But given the fact that this language is no longer spoken (just like Latin), the contents of the great works such as Bhagvad Gita have to be read in translated forms.

Sir Arnold's translation is in poetic form, unlike most translations, which are mainly prose.

It makes for a concise reading, without really missing the the essence.

The Gita is my Manager, and I have personally benefitted immensely in dealing with main daily life sitiuations both in family and work. It has made a profound diference to my decision making ability qand leadership qualities.

I sincerely hope that every ambitious person takes time to read this and beenfit from the relevant parts of the text.

The symposium is Plato's famous dialogue on love. He brings together some of the greatest minds of Athens and together they debate the nature of Eros, the parentage of Love, and the Divine. Aristophanes, the comic, explains the human desire to unite with another using his favorite device: humor. Socrates, for whom Plato obviously has enormous admiration, gives us more pearls of wisdom, this time concerning love, beauty, and the ascent of man. Even the great general and statesman Alcibiades makes a cameo toward the end scene of the dinner-party.

At the very least, we learn about the Greek concept of Love. From this book we may garner a far deeper understanding of Eros than we might have previously hoped. This is the finest of Plato's works, in my opinion.

The Symposium will continue to tower among Western literature as a work of truly insightful genius. Buy this book and be prepared for enlightenment.

This is perhaps the most enjoyable of Plato's dialogues, and one of the most enduring.

Plato imagines his mentor Socrates, the comic playwright Aristophanes, and other Athenian luminaries of the Golden Age met for a dinner party and a night of discussion on the nature of love. The various guests present their positions in manners ranging from thoughtful to hilarious, but all of this is but an appetizer for the main course: Socrates' concept of Eros as the fuel for the soul's ascent to the Divine, as revealed in Socrates' reminiscence of his own mentor, Diotima, the woman of Mantinea. At the end, a drunken Alcibiades breaks in upon the festivities to reveal Socrates as an avatar of the very divine Eros which he praises.

Robin Waterfield's Oxford translation is one of the best. He captures each speaker's individual idiom, a major translational feat in itself. That he is able to do so and also render the text into lucid modern English is a further coup. The Oxford edition also includes an extensive introduction, very helpful notes, and a complete bibliography.

The Symposium is great philosophy, great literature, an intimate peek at the social life of one of western civilization's formative eras, a work of spiritual inspiration and transformation, and, not least, a wonderful read. Most highly recommended!

Plato's "Symposium" will always be read because there will always be people who question the nature of Love. Agathon's dinner party is the scene of a conversation between a small group of men, who go around the table offering their views on Love. What does Love mean to us to-day? Reading over the responses of the dinner-guests and their host, we find the same range of answers in Ancient Greece that we are likely to find now.

Phaedrus and Pausanias are utilitarians and materialists. Phaedrus looks at love between people and a proto-Burkean love for government and state. Pausanias complicates the argument, saying that there are two different kinds of love, one which is common and one which is heavenly - yet still oriented towards the real and the tangible. Eryximachus is a proto-Swedenborg, trying to reconcile or harmonize the two kinds of love.

The jewels of Plato's "Symposium" are Aristophanes and Socrates. Aristophanes gives us the profoundly moving depiction of Love as a fundamental human need, a desire for completion. For a writer of comedy, whose aim as an art form is forgiveness and acceptance, Aristophanes's explanation is no surprise, though its depth is amazing. While women are generally discounted throughout the "Symposium," not only does Socrates, as we might expect, completely astound his audience (both inside the book and out) with his progressively logical and ascendant view of Love, but he also does it through the voice of a woman, Diotima. When we realize that Socrates is a character in this fiction, and that his words originate in a woman, the egalitarianism and wisdom of Plato the author truly shines forth, like the absolute beauty he claims as the ultimate goal of Love.

Was Plato a feminist? I don't know. I do know that the "Symposium" is a tremendous book. I picked it up and did not stop reading it until I was finished. The style of the Penguin translation is smooth, with a lighthearted tone that can make you forget that you are reading philosophy. Plato's comedic masterpiece in the "Symposium" is the character of Alcibiades, who provides the work a fitting end. Get the "Symposium" and read it now. You cannot help but Love it...in a Platonic sort of way.

What is remarkable in itself is a firsthand account of a famous American War, The Civil War, written by a legendary author. It is an old world, almost archaic, style of writing that was difficult for me to read, and to understand the underlying stories. At least one of Ambrose Bierce's classic writings, "An Occurrence at Owl Creek", was produced into a truly amazing Twilight Zone episode. I personally didn't enjoy the book that much, and I don't naturally gravitate to these subject matter type of books, but I bent old attitudes and habits of thinking by reading a page or two a day. I'm glad I bought it and read it.

You would never think of these stories as having been written in the 19th century, but they were. Ambrose Bierce was a Civil War veteran who seems almost to have tried to exorcise the horrors of the war he lived by writing about it. The result is gripping and utterly believable; the style is immediate, you-are-there, not-one-word-too-many. Not the flowery elaborate style you might have associated with Victorian prose.

The results convey the horrors of war as well as anything written in your lifetime. The story about the little boy who gets lost near his home when it is surrounded by a battle...I don't think I'll ever forget it. I won't spoil if for you but you've got to read it. If you think that 130+-year-old stories have nothing to say to you, give these a try, you will see otherwise.

Not to mention the Dover version is NOT EVEN TWO DOLLARS at the time of this writing. You spent more than the price of this book on your coffee this morning, I'll bet. What have you got to lose? Add it to a Supersaver order, there won't even be a shipping charge. Best pocket change you will ever have spent on a book.

Amrose Bierce's Civil War Stories is an excellent and unique book. No, it's not a narrative history like Shelby Foote's or Catton's books; no it's not a biography or autobiography; no, it's not a socio-economic discussion of the causes of the civil war; no, it's not a strategy and tactics book of a particular battle. This book is something altogether different and unique.

It starts with Ambrose Bierce. One, the guy can write, as he was an able journalist and satirist for many years. Two, the guy was there. And it is this combination that makes his stories unique.

Take "What I Saw Of Shiloh", for example. There are no discussions of tactics, no discussions of glory and honor. Only confusion and chaos, shivering wet and cold, unrelenting noise and fear, and gruesome death. Yet through all this, there is a satire and humor that will evoke a smirk from the astute reader.

"The Gift of the Magi and Other Short Stories" brings together 16 pieces by O. Henry. The stories in this collection are taken from 8 of O. Henry's books; the original volumes have publication dates ranging from 1906 to 1911. This book includes a short introductory note on the colorful life and career of the author, who lived from 1862 to 1910.

I really enjoyed this book from start to finish. O. Henry writes about criminals, dreamers, artists, lovers, and lost souls. Many of these stories have a New York City setting--he really captures the energy and color of the city. There are also a Western story ("The Pimienta Pancakes"), a Southern Gothic tale ("A Municipal Report"), a story set primarily in a small town in Arkansas ("A Retrieved Reformation"), and a story set in rural Alabama ("The Ransom of Red Chief").

If you like stories with "twist" endings, you will probably like this collection. The book as a whole is a lot of fun--full of life and charm. Some of the stories may strike contemporary readers as corny, but I found each tale to be an enjoyable gem of storytelling. The book is rich in irony, with some really funny scenes.

O. Henry tells stories of love, justice, deception, sacrifice, and heroism. He makes some intriguing creative choices; this is clearly the work of a master in total command of the short story genre. His prose style is very readable and engaging, with touches of baroque elegance.

This book begins with the one of the lesser-known Christmas stories that illustrates how we should give to the utmost during this season of giving. O. Henry is able to use wit to show wisdom, and the ridiculous to show the sublime.

The poor married couple is forced to scrounge for Christmas. The husband hocks his watch to buy hair combs for his wife, and his wife sell her hair to a wig-maker to buy a fob-chain. Bit this story isn't about a couple's holiday folly, but the desire to love and serve other people to the utmost.

One of the classics is "The Last Leaf," about a boy who in inspired by a last leaf, which is really a painting. Another story is "The Cop And the Anthem," about the bum who tries to get arrested, then has a turn of heart second before he is booked for vagrancy. It also has the immortal "The Ransom Of Red Chief," the story about the kidnappers who get the redheaded brat, and try their darndest to get rid of the kid.

O. Henry has the a gift of the twist, like Rod Serling of "Twilight Zone" fame, or M. Night Shyamalan, the director of "The Sixth Sense," and "Signs." As you read, it keeps your eyes on their toes, since at any minute the whole story will twist upside-down. This roller-coaster writing is like a well-told joke.

For my money, this Dover edition is the perfect introduction to the works of O. Henry. It contains several of his best stories in an order that is not jarring, considering they come from different collections.

I am a writer of short stories, and there is no better practitioner of the art than O. Henry. Perhaps in today's world, with the New Yorker style being touted as *the* way to write short stories, O. Henry is scoffed at. But, if you look close, Henry's stories have one thing those don't--an ending.

In fact, O. Henry stories are famous for their endings. Often called "twist" endings, they show the inherent unpredictability of life.

What is often missed, however, is Henry's knack for characterization, his evocative use of setting and description, and his readability. I put O. Henry up there with other short story writers like Flannery O'Connor and John Updike.

So, start with the Dover edition and if you find that you, too, love the work of O. Henry then graduate to a more comprehensive collection. And if not, hey, you're not out much money, right?

The Dover Thrift Edition of "The Raven and Other Favorite Poems," by Edgar Allan Poe, is a fine collection of work from one of the most remarkable figures in American literature. The poems in this volume demonstrate Poe's total mastery of poetic effects: rhyme, meter, alliteration, etc. He is inventive and versatile in his use of different poetic structures. The many allusions mark this as the work of a truly brainy poet.

But it's not just his skill and intelligence that are characteristic of Poe. He is also a poet of deeply felt passions. This collection shows his appreciation of love and beauty, as well as his concern with loss and tragedy.

I'll just mention a few of the selections that struck me most. "Sonnet--To Science": brilliantly expresses the tension between scientific and mythopoetic worldviews. "The Coliseum": a thrilling exploration of the power of ancient ruins. "The Haunted Palace": the rich language contributes to its fairy-tale like flavor. "To My Mother": an achingly tender tribute to the speaker's mother-in-law. "Annabel Lee": a hauntingly beautiful, yet disturbingly creepy poem of love and loss. And of course, the unforgettable title poem.

Dive into Poe's poetry and you enter a realm haunted by both angels and demons--a world of sorrow and joy, of terror and intoxicating beauty.

I have read most of the American poets, both past and present. For my money Poe is simply one of the best when it comes to rhythm and rhyme. Plus his imagery and themes are so dark and foreboding that poems, such as his masterpiece "The Raven" will stand forever as immortal verses from this master of shadows and sheer terror.

I was first hooked on literature in high school, having before that been strictly a reader of sci-fi and horror. I was wonderfully surprised to discover Poe's tales and poems, not only because they catered to my love of the dark and disturbed, but because they were something altogether different from what I'd been reading! This book contains the poem that Poe is most favorite for and one of my long time faves, the Raven. But it also contains a wonderful assortment of other poems so that you get the full range of Poe's literary ability in one slim little book! Whoever put teen angst in such beautiful terms; "From childhood's hour I have not been/as others were..." If you're looking for a cheap version with a good cross section of his poetry, this is most definitely the book to pick up.

Being an adaptation by and with the great Martin Jarvis, I thought it would be absolutely excellent, as I have found his audio efforts to be always. But in his performance there is something lacking, Sir Robert Chiltern should be played with a bit more pathos. Jacqueline Bisset is formidable, and Alfred Molina also as Lord Goring.

As to being a live recording, this is a mixed blessing. This public seems to misunderstand some lines, and there are misplaced laughs, for example when Robert Chiltern says: "I did not sell myself for money. I bought success at a great price. That is all". I'm sure Wilde didn't intend this to be a joke. Chiltern is not bought, he is not changed, it is he who buys something, therefore his character, his person, is not altered. The public dismisses this important nuance and bursts into a hearty fit of laughter.

There are three o four more like that. But on the whole, this recording by L.A. Theater Works is highly enjoyable.

Wilde, in part, attempts to portray the relativity of truth, power, and character, things we often take as absolutes, while also entertaining his audience with witty dialogue and comical mishaps.

Oscar Wilde gives us here one of his best plays. He explores the political world in London and how a young ambitious but poor man can commit a crime, which is a mistake, to start his good fortune. But he builds his political career on ethical principles. Sooner or later someone will come into the picture to blackmail him into supporting an unacceptable scheme, by producing a document that could ruin his career if revealed. His past mistake may come back heavily onto him. But he resists and sticks to his moral reputation. He prefers doing what is right to yielding to some menace. He may lose though his political ambition and career and his wife's love. But love is saved by forgiveness and the man's career is also saved by the work of a real friend who recaptures the dubious document and destroys it. In other words love and an ethical career are saved by the burrying of the old mistake into oblivion. In other words love and friendship are stronger than the scheming action of a blackmailer. This is a terrible criticism of victorian society which is based more on appearances than principles and yet able to destroy a man's absolutely ethical present life with a mistake from his youth, throwing the baby along with the water of the bath. It is also a criticism of the victorian political world where you cannot have a career if you are not rich, money appearing as the only way to succeed, at least to succeed fast. But it is a hopeful play because love and friendship are beyond such considerations and only consider the best interest of men and women, in the long run and in the name of absolute purity. Better be a sinner and be forgiven when you have reformed than see a reformed sinner destroyed by the lack of forgiveness. Oscar Wilde advocates here a vision of humanity that necessitates forgiveness as the essential fuel of any rational approach. Real morality is not the everlasting guilt of a sinner without any possible reform. Real morality is the recognition that forgiveness is necessary when reform has taken place. Otherwise society would be unlivable and based on hypocrisy and the death or rejection of the best people in the name of (reformed) mistakes. One must not be that sectarian, because man can learn from his mistakes and improve along the road : one can learn how to avoid mistakes and repair those oen has committed. If condemnation is absolute, no progress is possible. A very fascinating play, a very modern play. And yet when can one be considered as reformed, when can we consider one has really corrected one's mistakes and improved ? And who can deem such elements ? The very core of political and ethical rectitude is concerned here and Oscar Wilde embraces a generous approach.

Dr Jacques COULARDEAU, University of Perpignan

Written by America's most inventive poet, "The Enormous Room" is a book of prose set in a French detention camp during World War One. It is a coming-of-age story in which events happen, not always to the narrator (E.E. Cummings), but to the inhabitants of a place that serves as a microcosm for all the folly and brutality of war itself. As a war narrative it is unique -- unlike Hemingway's "Farewell to Arms" or Remarque's "All Quiet on the Western Front," the central story doesn't take place on the front lines. The plot of the book is basically non-linear, with the exception of the first three or four chapters, and several passages are written in French (thankfully a glossary of foreign terms is printed at the back of the book). I would describe Cummings' story as a stream-of-consciousness dialogue with himself, written in the language of a talented budding poet. Most memorable are the wonderful characters Cummings encountered during his short stay at La Ferte Mace, the name of the camp in which he was interned. They are objects of torn humanity and how terrible it must have been for him to leave them, knowing that upon his release many would languish in prison for the rest of their lives. "The Enormous Room" is a unique historical fiction. It is not an easy read, but it is one of those books that is even more difficult to put down. I have never read another book quite like it. [P.S.: There are two editions of the book, one published by Boni & Liveright and the other by Penquin Classics. The Liveright edition is the better one (and naturally harder to locate online or in book stores), and includes samples of drawings that Cummings made during his confinement.]

Some works of literature that I have read in the past required several scans of certain passages due to their thick and wholly unconsumable nature. While reading E. E. Cummings' The Enormous Room, I found myself skimming back over entire paragraphs simply for the sheer joy of reading them again. Cummings' ability to turn a phrase is astonishing. It's not hard to glean from reading only this work that the author has a poetic nature.

The personal journey recounted here amounts to a fantastic tale that happens to be (for the most part) completely true. By turns, bleak and hopeless - then joyous and brimming with a kind of spiritual joy, The Enormous Room takes the reader to extremities of all sorts in its relatively short span of chapters.

Though it takes place during a three month stint in a French concentration camp during the latter parts of World War One, it could just as well be set on another planet, for all of its fantastic characters, settings and behavioral interactions that never cease to alternately amaze and confound the reader.

Even if it seems a cruel statement to make, after having the pleasure of experiencing this world through the prose of E. E. Cummings you will be thankful that he found himself in this squalid and vile place so that we now have the honor of sharing in it.

Reading Cumming's poetry was never a priority in my school days, except such excerpts as appeared in my far from comprehensive American Lit book. After reading this, I wish I'd paid more attention to this truly gifted writer.

The Enormous Room is the story of Cumming's three month incarceration at La Ferte Mace, a squalid French prison camp. Cummings is locked up as accessory to exercise of free speech, his friend B. (William Brown) having written a letter with some pro German sentiments. What Cummings experienced in those three months and the stories of the men and women he met are, despite the straits of the polyglot texture of the book, never other than fascinating. At moments touching (the stories of the Surplice and The Wanderer's family), hilarious (the description of the Man In the Orange Cap is hysterical), and maddening (the smoking of the four les putains), this is a brilliant weft of memorable characters and not a little invective for the slipshod French goverment.

Something I noticed. Though the book claims as its primary influence Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, I noticed a similarity with Thoreau's Walden. In both books, there is the idea of self-abnegation breeding liberty and peace of mind. The idea is to shear away all luxuries, all privileges. But Thoreau had one very important luxury to his credit: Free will. Whereas Thoreau chose his isolated and straitened existence near Walden Pond, Cummings' was involuntary. So, if the touchstone of freedom both men share is valid, is not Cummings, by virtue of the unrequested nature of his imprisonment, the freer of the two men?

This is a fascinating, thought provoking, ribald and intelligent book. I only regret that the Fighting Sheeney was never given commupance...

Wonderful and authentic, a great collection for any Sandburg devotee or any patriotic Chicagoan. I was a little disappointed with the actual quality of the book, binding and covers, but it is not an expensive edition and the collection is priceless. A must read!

In my reading of poetry I have developed a peculiar habit. In the Table Of Contents I pencil in an asterisk before the titles of poems that I especially enjoyed. I find that this helps me to quickly relocate special poems later when I want to re-read them. In my copy of Sandburg's "Chicago Poems" there are many asterisks. I think that one of the things that appeal to me about these particular series of poems is their "urbanity". As the title suggests, these are often poems about "city"... about the "cosmopolis". Sandburg had a way of animating concrete and asphalt, and making us aware of the inner life of things that millions of us urbanites walk past each day. In one of my favorites entitled "Skyscraper" he says "It is the men and women, boys and girls so poured in and out all day that give the building a soul of dreams and thoughts and memories." And it ends beautifully with "By night the skyscraper looms in the smoke and the stars and has a soul." It is as though if any of Sandburg's Chicago Poems were to just remain silent for a moment, we would hear the faint night-time "humming and thrumming" of "a copper wire slung in the air." (cf. his Under A Telephone Pole).

He writes with a solemnity that avoids being morose, which is refreshing. But take note... "you will be thwarted every time, you try to catch a Sandburg rhyme." (they never rhyme). As for metre, his poems are in a free-verse very much reminiscent of Walt Whitman. The perfect poetry to read while feeding the pigeons, or otherwise commuting to and from the park.

A few weeks after September 11 2001, I came across the poem "Skyscraper" by Sandburg by chance in a huge volume of American poetry. In the millions of lines written about that horrible day, I found his words from 70 years ago to be the most moving. Here are some lines from that poem:

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BY day the skyscraper looms in the smoke and sun and has a soul.
Prairie and valley, streets of the city, pour people into it and they mingle among its twenty floors and are poured out again back to the streets, prairies and valleys.
It is the men and women, boys and girls so poured in and out all day that give the building a soul of dreams and thoughts and memories...

Hour by hour the caissons reach down to the rock of the earth and hold the building to a turning planet.
Hour by hour the girders play as ribs and reach out and hold together the stone walls and floors....

Men who sunk the pilings and mixed the mortar are laid in graves where the wind whistles a wild song without words
And so are men who strung the wires and fixed the pipes and tubes and those who saw it rise floor by floor.
Souls of them all are here, even the hod carrier begging at back doors hundreds of miles away and the brick-layer who went to state's prison for shooting another man while drunk...

Ten-dollar-a-week stenographers take letters from corporation officers, lawyers, efficiency engineers, and tons of letters go bundled from the building to all ends of the earth.
Smiles and tears of each office girl go into the soul of the building just the same as the master-men who rule the building.

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I have never studied Sandburg, but it seems to me he shares that same love of humanity and fairness that Walt Whitman was so famous for, along with the ability to craft lines as amazing as "hold the building to a turning planet". His love of his modern city seems like a remnant from another age, but his absolute belief in class equality is as relevant as any 2001 street protest.