Othello is by without a doubt my favorite of the plethora of Shakespeare's tragedies. Although Othello himself is quite an intricate character, it was funny and almost ironic how the character that grabbed my observance the most was the villain Iago. Iago, being perhaps Shakespeare's most consummate villain, directly or indirectly seemed to control the minds and hearts of almost everyone he interacted with. Bravery, loyalty, ambition, honesty, and chivalry are all issues addressed within the play, and when combined with a great deal of power struggles, they can create an intense whirlwind of emotions and confusion running high. Othello, even being a powerful and bold general, is easily deceived by Iago as well as are many of the other characters who soon come to find out what it means to be struck by Iago's wrath. All of these things considered, one can easily find themselves engulfed with all sorts of emotions, and be filled with empathy and rage toward the diverse array of characters, maybe even find a little piece of themselves in each one of them. The play can be compared to many of Shakespeare's plays, both comedy and tragedy, in different ways. If you enjoyed the plot of Much Ado About Nothing, or Romeo and Juliet, then you can not go wrong by reading this play. Also, if you like strong women roles and always find yourself identifying easily with those characters in Shakespeare's plays, one of the female characters in Othello, Emelia will be quite a delight. For me, by the last page and last quote of this play, I was literally holding back the tears, and that impact is no exaggeration. If you have yet to read Othello, don't wait another second. Go right now to the nearest bookshelf, dust it off and I promise the pages will just seem to simply turn themselves. Enjoy!

Despite his Machiavellian and snakelike nature, Iago strangely and inexplicably endears himself as the most likeable villain in all of Shakespeare. It can be argued that Iago was unduly wronged in that the noble & educated, yet untested Cassio achieved the promotion of lieutenant over the common & uneducated, yet more battle-proven Iago. Iago also asserts that his blunt and disrespectful wife Emilia has slept around and made a cuckold of him with Othello. Although there is no proof as to the latter charge, Iago is nothing short of the embodiment of a veritable myriad of rage, fury, jealousy, and a relentless and all-encompassing passion for vengeance on The Moor.

Upon reading Othello the first time, I found myself empathizing with the honorable, yet naive General Othello, and even moreso with the innocent and untainted Desdemona, whom Othello "loved not wisely, but too well." After reading Othello the 3rd time, I've come to a greater appreciation for the convoluted and diablolical genius that is Iago - and how masterfully Shakespeare constructed this great character and the storyline of Othello with so fewer characters than is typical of his other great plays. It is with fewer characters that the ingenuity of Shakespeare is allowed to shine. With the likes of Iago, The Bard is able to achieve as great and superior characterization in Othello as in any of his other masterpieces. While he may be the last guy on the block you might invite to dinner, you would be a knave to deny the incomparable surreptitious cunning and genius of Iago nonetheless. As far as the many Othello movies go, I must state that Kenneth Branagh is absolutely masterful and convincing as the sinister Iago. I wholeheartedly recommend Othello to any and all readers who have a flair for both wisdom and entertainment achieved as one.

As a play, "Othello" encompasses many things but more than anything else it is a study of pure evil. Although Othello is an accomplished professional soldier and a hero of sorts, he is also a minority and an outcast in many ways. As a Black man and a Moor (which means he's a Moslem), Othello has at least two qualities, which make him stand out in the Elizabethan world. He is also married to a Caucasian woman named Desdemona, which creates an undercurrent of hostility as evidenced by the derogatory remark "the ram hath topped the ewe".

Othello's problems begin when he promotes one of his soldiers, Michael Cassio as his lieutenant. This arouses the jealousy and hatred of one of his other soldiers, Iago who hatches a plot to destroy Othello and Michael Cassio. When Cassio injures an opponent in a fight he is rebuked, punished, and subsequently ignored by Othello who must discipline him and teach him a lesson. Iago convinces Desdemona to intervene on Cassio's behalf and then begins to convince Othello that Desdemona is in love with Cassio.

This is actually one of the most difficult Shakespeare plays to watch because the audience sees the plot begin to unfold and is tormented by Othello's gradual decent into Iago's trap. As with other Shakespeare plays, the critical components of this one are revealed by language. When Othello is eventually convinced of Cassio's treachery, he condemns him and promotes Iago in his place. When Othello tells Iago that he has made him his lieutenant, Iago responds with the chilling line, "I am thine forever". To Othello this is a simple affirmation of loyalty, but to the audience, this phrase contains a double meaning. With these words, Iago indicates that the promotion does not provide him with sufficient satisfaction and that he will continue to torment and destroy Othello. It is his murderous intentions, not his loyal service that will be with Othello forever.

Iago's promotion provides him with closer proximity to Othello and provides him with more of his victim's trust. From here Iago is easily able to persuade Othello of Desdemona's purported infidelity. Soon Othello begins to confront Desdemona who naturally protests her innocence. In another revealing statement, Othello demands that Desdemona give him "the ocular proof". Like Iago's earlier statement, this one contains a double meaning that is not apparent to the recipient but that is very clear to the audience who understands the true origin of Othello's jealousy. Othello's jealousy is an invisible enemy and it is also based on events that never took place. How can Desdemona give Othello visual evidence of her innocence if her guilt is predicated on accusations that have no true shape or form? She can't. Othello is asking Desdemona to do the impossible, which means that her subsequent murder is only a matter of course.

I know that to a lot of young people this play must seem dreadfully boring and meaningless. One thing you can keep in mind is that the audience in Shakespeare's time did not have the benefit of cool things such as movies, and videos. The downside of this is that Shakespeare's plays are not visually stimulating to an audience accustomed to today's entertainment media. But the upside is that since Shakespeare had to tell a complex story with simple tools, he relied heavily on an imaginative use of language and symbols. Think of what it meant to an all White audience in a very prejudiced time to have a Black man at the center of a play. That character really stood out-almost like an island. He was vulnerable and exposed to attitudes that he could not perceive directly but which he must have sensed in some way.

Shakespeare set this play in two locations, Italy and Cypress. To an Elizabethan audience, Italy represented an exotic place that was the crossroads of many different civilizations. It was the one place where a Black man could conceivably hold a position of authority. Remember that Othello is a mercenary leader. He doesn't command a standing army and doesn't belong to any country. He is referred to as "the Moor" which means he could be from any part of the Arab world from Southern Spain to Indonesia. He has no institutional or national identity but is almost referred to as a phenomenon. (For all the criticism he has received in this department, Shakespeare was extrordinarlily attuned to racism and in this sense he was well ahead of his time.) Othello's subsequent commission as the Military Governor of Cypress dispatches him to an even more remote and isolated location. The man who stands out like an island is sent to an island. His exposure and vulnerability are doubled just as a jealous and murderous psychopath decides to destroy him.

Iago is probably the only one of Shakespeare's villains who is evil in a clinical sense rather than a human one. In Kind Lear, Edmund the bastard hatches a murderous plot out of jealousy that is similar to Iago's. But unlike Iago, he expresses remorse and attempts some form of restitution at the end of the play. In the Histories, characters like Richard III behave in a murderous fashion, but within the extreme, political environment in which they operate, we can understand their motives even if we don't agree with them. Iago, however, is a different animal. His motives are understandable up to the point in which he destroys Michael Cassio but then they spin off into an inexplicable orbit of their own. Some have suggested that Iago is sexually attracted to Othello, which (if its true) adds another meaning to the phrase "I am thine forever". But even if we buy the argument that Iago is a murderous homosexual, this still doesn't explain why he must destroy Othello. Oscar Wilde once wrote very beautifully of the destructive impact a person can willfully or unwittingly have on a lover ("for each man kills the things he loves") but this is not born out in the play. Instead, Shakespeare introduces us to a new literary character-a person motivated by inexplicable evil that is an entity in itself. One of the great ironies of this play is that Othello is a character of tragically visible proportions while Iago is one with lethally invisible ones.

The novel, based on the life of the French painter Paul Gauguin, is a very absorbing and easy read. Maugham's style has such fluidity that you can read the entire book with great interest in a single day. The main character, Charles Strickland, gives up a comfortable life of a financier to pursue his passsion for painting. Strickland is a man possessed, who is willing to sacrifice his well being and that of his family to fulfill the call of his inner voice to paint his vision of the world.

I like the novel and highly recommend it, but I do have a few criticisms. First, Strickland is portrayed as too inhuman, which makes the character unrealistic. Many artists are driven and single-minded, but Maugham is so concerned in making his Strickland appear a hard and uncompromising creator that he makes him crude. Strickland is taciturn, though he occasionally spouts Nietzshean phrases and tries to project Nietzschean haughty indifference to everything except his art. Not surprisingly, Strickland is condescending toward women and does not hesitate to let us know about it in his rare but obnoxious commentary. If the real Gauguin, or any artitst of significance, were as incensitive as Strickland, he would not be able to feel and to paint what he did. And this, in a nutshell, is the problem with Maugham's novel. He started from a stereotype and ended with the main character who was not particularly compelling.

Obviously the book tells a story based on the life of the famous painter Paul Gauguin but it is also a projection of Maugham's thoughts and desires. In fact his main character, Charles Strickland, is exactly like Maugham would like to be because he sacrifies everyone and everything just to follow his inner vision, which is to paint. He doesn't care about society he doesn't care about material things, he just lives for ideas and is indifferent to everything else. That's according to some philosophers, the true and only way to be an artist and I think that it is also Maugham's opinion about it. Therefore he created a figure who is nothing but his ideal picture of himself, as he did not have the courage and the force to live it in reality, probably due to his constant fear of losing all social relations. It's a really good book which could give you, the reader, the force to realize yourself and to do only what you really like and give up everything else to reach your aim.

"To recognize it (Beauty) you must repeat the adventure of the artist. It is a melody that he sings to you, and to hear it again in your own heart you want knowledge and sensitiveness and imagination." And so the narrator's friend passes along a bit of wisdom early in this magnificent book. Of course, the narrator does not understand and must, on his own, develop knowledge, sensitivity and imagination around the life of the fictionalized-Paul Gauguin, Charles Strickland.

The narration is cunning and subtle throughout. The narrator begins as a young novitiate of life, sides with convention, utters a few misogynistic statements (which are good for a laugh/is this how women were viewed by some in the early 1900's?) and, oh so slowly, develops into a person of sensitivity and imagination. The transformation is subtle and quiet, ending with a physical return to the place where it all started. Those characters, who he had originally thought so highly of, are still the same, mean and opportunistic. He sees their stasis and reflects on the greatness of the man that he himself once thought mean.

With each new Maugham book I read, I gain a deeper appreciation for the wonder of his writing. The story is effortless and at the same time loaded with significant themes that give me pause for consideration.

When Edward Prendick, an unfortunate shipwreck survivor, is plucked out of the ocean by the strange Dr. Montgomery, little does he know that he has dropped out of the frying pan and into the fire. When they arrive at their destination, Prendick finds that the whole island is filled with unnatural seeming people, and the least unnatural, but the most frightening is the lord and master of the island Dr. Moreau. There is a secret to this island, something terrifying, and Prendick is about to find out what it is, whether he wants to or not.

This book is one of the crowning examples of nineteenth century fantastic fiction. But, it is not merely an early science fiction story. Mr. Wells wrote this story as something of a lesson about scientists playing God, and creating monstrosities (not unlike Mary Shelley's Frankenstein). This book is an exciting adventure story, with a fascinating lesson. Even though the book was written in 1896, it is still an exciting read, one that I highly recommend to you.

Until I read this book, I didn't know that a serious novel about human like animals existed. Certainly H.G. Wells is not most well known as one of the fathers of sci-fi for this novel. It was one of his first, published in 1896, and the book lovers of the time must have really found this work disturbing and shocking. Maybe that's why The Island of Dr. Moreau has been playing catch up to The Time Machine and War of the Worlds ever since. I admit that I myself found the basic idea in this book very cruel, but I realized that the book covered other issues as well. Besides being the novel about an insane scientist who tries the hand at playing God, this book evokes thoughts of social responsibilty and freedom of all living things. Also, it shows that sometimes who we think of as being authority really have no right to be, and deals with anarchy and revolution. But it is the basic plot that has the most effect. Why does Moreau torture animals so that can make them in the image of man? Dr. Moreau beats Victor Frankenstein on who is a more of a nutcase. Frankenstein intended for something good to come out of his work. Moreau did his experiments just for curiosity. He didn't expect for his creations to have any real purpose. He didn't care for them. And yet he brainwashes his creations to fear and respect him, to treat him like a god, and follow his laws. And another thought occurs. What really seperates man from beast? What causes humans to sometime commit violent and brutal acts? What does that account for? When I read this novel, the reality of what genetic cloning may become years from now passed through my mind. If genetics had been an established science in the 1890's, Wells could of utilized it in this book, but he would probably have created a controversy beyond any proportion. But certainly the ignorance of genes back then was not his fault, and he came up with probably the best substition: vivisection. Being the substitute of what was unknown and likely more plausible, vivisection was more than enough to shock Well's audience of reading about the blasphemous idea of creating "Beast-People". I am certain that people in 1896 weren't ready for it. Neither are we. That's what I think is the main reason that The Island of Dr. Moreau isn't as popular as H.G. Wells other novels. I found, however, that this was a worthwhile read because its suspense and creepiness intrigued me, and it made me think of some social issues. If you're a person who can bear reading a grotesque story of cruelty and suffering, I highly recommend this book.

This book is less known than Wells' other works like The War of the Worlds and The Time Machine, but in many ways it exceeds these other, more popular works. This novel is a story essentially about the nature of humanity. What is it that makes us people? What, exactly, separates man from the beasts? Wells' insidious Dr. Moreau is the perfect character to explore these questions as he has no conscience. As you read this book you find yourself identifying more with the "beasts" than with the Dr. or his assistant; and you find yourself wondering whether or not the noble beasts are in fact more human than the human characters. This work is decades before its' time; as today genetic research and animal rights are garnering more attention and headlines. I believe Wells was somehow able to see these issues decades ago when he wrote this story; and it remains one of the most salient writings on the topic to date. I heartily endorse this book for any fan of science fiction. Enjoy!

Northanger Abbey is an overwrought, underpaced book - terribly dull by modern standards. The satirization of the novel of manners and the gothic novel forms is almost entirely lost on the modern reader who is unlikely to have read a single one of the 18th century popular novels Austin is constantly referring or alluding to.

The only thing that saves this book from the dreaded one-star rating is the strong characters. This was one of Austin's earliest attempts at a novel, but already she shows her knack for creating fascenating characters that would reach its zenith in Emma. The three main characters of Catherine, Belle, and Henry really come alive and actually manage to extract some genuine concern from the reader by the end of the novel.

What holds the characters back however, is the incredibly tedious pacing. The plot develops VERY slowly by modern standards. The first 150 pages are used mostly to describe a bunch of society balls and carriage rides, with only very gradual character development - the sparks don't start flying until volume II.

The bottom line is, Northanger Abbey may have been a *decent* novel for its time, but these days it should be read only by true Austin Addicts who are beyond all hope of recovery ;-)

The story describes the development of a young girl, Catherine Morland. She is the daughter of a clergyman, not very rich nor especially handsome or clever. At the age of seventeen she is allowed to go with Mr. and Mrs. Allen to Bath, were all the upper class of England spends the holidays. She meets there a plenty of young people, for example John and Isabella Thorpe, Eleanor Tilney and her brother Henry. They all become friends, but John and Henry take a deeper interest in Catherine. She has to make up her decision: The young student John or the earnest reverend Henry, and soon it's clear. Catherine goes with Eleanor and Henry to stay for a visit at the abbey where they are living with their father, Captain Tilney, while Isabella ingages with Catherines brother James. As Catherine has read many novels about misteries (f.e. "The misteries of Udolpho") she expects to find something puzzling and amazing in this old abbey. Everywhere she looks for a strange thing, but never finds anything. Even Henry tells her once how stupid she is to believe in such things, and now Catherine has a more realistic vue to the world around her. But then she receives a letter from her brother James where he writes that Isabella has left him, and moreover Catherine has to leave the abbey because Captain Tilney has found out that she isn't as rich as he thought and because of that not adapted to become Henry's wife. Through all these experiences Catherine grows up, and at the end of the story she is a very different woman than at the beginning.

Jane Austen was arguably one of the best writers of her time; however, only she took the bold leap into poking fun at the books of her time. Northanger Abbey brings Catherine, the heroine (on whom, among other things, Austen periodically comments from afar) through the joys and troubles of being an eligible young lady with a probing mind and endearing naivete, acquired from none other than the countless novels she has read. The elegance, and at some points speed, with which Austen plays out and then reconciles her young heroine's difficulties is at the very least extremely amusing. The foolish suspense and embarrassed relief which center around the Abbey are no less entertaining when one considers this book against darker novels where the papers in locked drawers have slightly more bearing. Catherine's friend Isabella, her vain (and in-vain) suitor John, and Mr. and Miss Tilney are brilliant foils for her character's development. Overall, I think this book rates as one of the true gems of the 19th Century.

It's a real shame that Jack London coupled one of his most fascinating and full-blooded characters with a stinker of a love story which carries no conviction.

Maud Brewster, like many of London's female characters (from Skeet, Curly and Mercedes in The Call of the Wild to Beth, Alice and Collie in White Fang), is underdeveloped, a mite hysterical, and completely dependent on the male characters. Without much in terms of psychological complexity, Maud provides a poor, poor reason for Humphrey Van Weyden to rebel against Wolf Larsen.

The first half of this book and its final few chapters are superb because London's male characters and their struggles are vividly portrayed. The knife-whetting contest between Mugridge and Hump; the homoerotic segment where Hump tends to a naked and wounded Larsen; Johnson and Leach's struggle against Larsen's iron fist -- London obviously loves these characters and gives them the light of day. Maud is another story.

In any event, the first half of this book is the top-notch tale of a Miltonic hero's slow slide from power, and the ending a moving fulfillment of this character's destiny (life, in the end, *is* yeast...but a savagely active and beautiful yeast, at that). Another one of London's terrible worlds unfolding its brutal majesty before us -- and, of course, another book inexplicably relegated to the children's section of many a book store.

Jack London's stated intention in writing this book was to place a man and a woman, both intellectual, well-to-do, yet socially soft (physically and psychologically). into the very challenging world of a seal hunting boat and watch them strive for survival. In this context, he has created one of the most fascinating characters of all literature, Wolf Larson, the inhuman captain of the "Ghost." Larson takes great delight in the suffering he brings to Humphrey Van Weyden and Maud Brewster, but they steadily grow to meet the challenge. This book can be read and enjoyed on two levels: As a rousing sea adventure, or as a discourse on society and sociology. Jack London is my favorite author -- I am in the process of collecting first editions of all fifty of his books -- and yet I find Sea Wolf ranks head and shoulders above all his other works. It could explain why this story has been turned into a film seven times, more than any of his his other stories, including The Call of the Wild. Two of cinema's great Wolf Larsons have been Edward G. Robinson and Charles Bronson.

The Sea Wolf is a gripping, thrilling and stunning peice of work. Van Weyden and Larsen come to grips with eachother and with themselves in this book. The confrontation scenes between the two are amazingly written and the stark realism of the boat, it's crew and the violence that is almost an everyday occurence combine to make this a book that can not be put down.

The introduction of the female slows the book considerably but in my honest opinion, the ending is fine. Larsen's final fate is surprising and heart rending. The repeated phrase "Bosh" leads to one of the books best moments. While I wish London hadn't included the female, the book is well worth the read. At least before the female comes in, the book is darkly violent and challenging. The social implications of the debates between Van Weyden and Larsen are extremely sobering. All in all, this book is one of the best I have ever read. Brilliant is the best word I can come up with.

I would doubtlessly recommend Ivanhoe to read. History may be often dull but Sir Walter Scott makes history extremely exciting by romanticizing his novel. It directly deals with hatred between the Normans and the Saxons, the discrimination of the Jews, chivalry, and politics--but it is a unforgettable tale of heroism, honor, and love. I felt that the characters were so fascinating and fun to read about. I was enjoying and cheering on the good characters like Ivanhoe, King Richard, and Robin Hood to beat the hated and evil villains. I liked the idea of love added in the story, like how Rowena and Rebecca were both in love with Ivanhoe. I even felt a little sorry for Brian de Bois-Guilbert who would do anything for Rebecca's love but is constantly rejected. I thought how it was appealing how the author questions Ivanhoe and Rebecca's feelings for each other. Suspenseful and action sequences also added entertainment to the story. This book may be a little too detailed for some readers, but I didn't mind. I felt that the details were brilliantly used to decorate the story in an outstanding fashion. The old English wording made me feel like I was actually in the medieval England. I have to admit that it took a great deal of persistence for me to finish this book and it was a challenge for me to read. However, I found Ivanhoe to be a wonderful pleasure. It is no wonder that Ivanhoe is such a well-loved tale!

I enjoyed this adventure yarn on many levels.

I was glad to learn about the Knights of Templer and that they were crusaders. I always wondered how Sam Spade in the Maltese Falcon knew that and it is because of this classic.

I was surprised that it talked so much about Robin of Lockesley. The story of Ivanhoe seemed to be the same only told by Ivanhoe's friends and not Robin's.

I thought that the DeBracyn and the Knight of Templer Brian de Bois Guilbert were pretty evil guys which made the story interesting. They were weasels when they had their backs to the wall but did preform with honor when required like when Richard gets DeBracy.

I guess I did not understand the prejudice of the time because they treated the Jews like dirt and they were so sterotypical. I really thought that the Jewish girl Rebecca was going to end up with Ivanhoe instead of that Saxon Lady Roweana. I guess you have to appreciate the times that they lived in.

It was a different look the Richard/Prince John history.

Not to put too fine a point on it, but this book, by Sir Walter Scott, was the progenitor of what was to become a venerable tradition in English letters (and in other European literatures as well): the historical romance. There have been many after IVANHOE, and frequently with a finer eye to the period in which the tale is set (for IVANHOE contains quite a number of anachronisms -- even Scott acknowledged it), but few have done it quite as well as Scott. He uses an archaic English to give voice to his characters, but one which is readily absorbed because of the speed & quality of the tale. So, though these people certainly wouldn't really have spoken as he has them speaking, they yet sound as though they should have. Peopled by many 'stock' characters and situations, this tale was fresh in its time & still reads well today -- a testament to Scott's skills as a teller of tales and a sketcher of marvelously wrought characters. In this tale of the 'disinherited knight' returning home to find the world he left turned upside down, young Ivanhoe, after a stint with King Richard in the Holy Land, must fight the enemies of his king and kinsmen anew. Yet the hero is oddly sidelined for much of the tale as events swirl around him and the brilliantly evoked villain, Sir Brian de Bois Gilbert, in the pay of Prince John, struggles to win treasure and the beautiful Rebeccah, who yet has eyes only for Ivanhoe, a knight she can never hope to win herself. There's lots of action and coincidences galore here and Robin Hood makes more than a cameo appearance, as does the noble Richard. In sum, this one's great fun, a great tale, and the progenitor of a whole genre. All those which came after owe their form to it. Worth the price and the read.

I read this play first for pleasure and years later for a English composition II class several years ago and as I read some of the reviews before writing and posting this one I can see that a lot of reviewers that came before me didnt understand the play at all. This play took place over a hundred years ago. The choices for women then were limited plus Nora and Tovald lived In Norway whose laws are sgnificantly different from ours due to time and culture. Nora certainly had her faults but sometimes we are just found stuck in roles society gives us. And what would take more courage to remain in a bad role after a moment of self discovery is made or to walk out of that role and try to grow as a person and discover things about yourself on your own? Nora's choices were very limited. It was stated in the play that by walking away from the marriage she would also have to disclaim any rights to her children in Norway. She had no choice but to give up the rights to her children. Neither Nora nor Tovald knew who she was very well. Sometimes it is much better for the children if a marriage ends because it is bad and has no foundation. But Nora is a very strong and determined character. She forged a bank note to save her husbands life when no one else could. She saves and earns money to pay back the loan. But also she is trapped in the facade of her marriage with Tovald who neither respects her or knows who she really is. Lies beget lies and it is out of the lie of the marriage she is in that she is made to conceal what she did to save her husbands life and tell lies herself. Finally after her husband finds out and is so consumed with how it will look to others that he tells her that the marriage for now on will just be a cover for the benefit of the outside world but he can no longer trust her nor shall she be trusted with her children etc a self discovery moment occurs. Nora and Tovald didnt really know each other nor was the marriage real in any meaning of the word. But when something happens and he has a change of heart about Nora in the blink of an eye Nora realizes that the whole marriage was a lie and in a moment of strength and determination she decides to leave the situation to find something better and grow as a person. But here is the rub Tovald said that she can not be trusted after what she did was revealed to him and that she has lost his respect but this is just a circumstance we are made well aware of in the play . Tovald shows us that he never did trust or respect Nora in the first place so what she is rejecting is a fruadulent marriage. She refused to go on living in that lie any longer. And that decision takes more courage , strength and determination than anyone who has never been in that place will know. I say three cheers for Nora for finally waking up and doing what she had to do!

The Norwegian playwright Henrik Ibsen subjects his writing to the intricacies of marriage time and time again. He seems to have an omniscient power and ability to observe the sacrament itself, along with the fictional characters whom he creates to engage in these marital affairs. Such is the case with his classic drama, A Doll's House.

The play raises questions about female self-sacrifice in a male-dominated world. Nora is a "wife and child" to Torvald Helmer, and nothing more. She is his doll, a plaything on display to the world, of little intellectual value and even less utility in his life. Thus it is logical for Helmer to act so shockingly upon his discovery that Nora has managed financial affairs (typically a family responsibility reserved for the patriarch) without so much as his consent or knowledge. What, then, is the play saying about women by allowing Nora to act alone and independently, all the while allowing her to achieve little success in doing so?

Such an apparent doubt by the playwright of the abilities of women is quickly redeemed by Nora's sudden mental fruition, as though she, in the course of a day or so, accomplishes the amount of growing up to which most persons devote years and years. She has developed the intuition and motivation to leave behind everything she has lived for during she and Helmer's eight years of marriage in exchange for an independent life and the much-sought virtue of independent thought. Nora suddenly wishes to be alone in the world, responsible for only her own well-being and success or failure. She is breaking free of her crutches (Helmer, her deceased father, the ill-obtained finances from Krogstad) and is now appetent to walk tall and proud.

Through the marital madness of Helmer and Nora, Ibsen is questioning the roles of both husband and wife, and what happens when one person dominates such a relationship in a manner that is demeaning to the other, regardless of whether such degradation is carried out in a conscious, intended frame of mind. Ibsen is truly a master playwright, and his play A Doll's House is truly a masterpiece.

The Norwegian author Henrik Ibsen wrote an insightful play about marriage and the role of women in Ibsens time (19th century Europe). I am sure that "A dolls house" must have been a shock to the European society when Ibsen first published this book. He criticised the system that demoted women to mere property and this must have been an outrageous statement in a society where women didn't even have the right to vote!

The author himself said that this play was about human rights, not women's rights. While I believe this to be true, I still have no problems understanding why the female rights groups says that "A dolls house" is about women's rights. Whilst this play was written over a hundred years ago, many of the issues about women discussed in "A dolls house" are still applicable today. I think Nora is a *great* role model for a woman of the new millennium!

If you, like me, had to read this as a part of your college literature requirements, give it another try! It is a wonderful book.

This novel is truly both what Conrad subtitles "A Simple Story," and quite a hard nut to crack. Not having read any of Conrad's other, more famous works, I have nothing to compare The Secret Agent to, but I would say that it proved in my own mind that the man is a master of revealing human emotions and motivations. There isn't a single character, however insignifigant they may seem to the story itself, who is not fully developed, from the Assistant Commissioner of Police to Toodles the Secretary to Winnie Verloc, to the intensly creepy "Professor." Nor was this merely description tacked onto the plot; indeed, it took precendence over the plot and became my purpose for continuing to read the book. For the story is simple, and not overly meaninglful.
I will say that Conrad's prose occasionally slowed me down. Once into the middle of a chapter or a conversation I had no problems, but the beginning of each chapter, especially the early ones, was extremely confusing, and had to be suffered through before the books strengths were revealed.

It is amazing how well this terribly story fits into nowadays reality. Terrorism, with all its hideous irrationality and contradictions is masterly depicted by Conrad. And so is human nature. Every single character is treated here as the center of his/her own universe, which results in wonderful psychological creations. From the very Mr Verloc -the secret agent- to an apparently insignificant cabman, all of them are given here the opportunity of redemption, since they are so humanly feeble. The author reaches this goal by arriving at numerous standstills where action seems to be suspended in the air while characters are sunk in deep reflection -or else are aided by Conrad's voice on account of their difficulties to express themselves.

The whole story is encircled in a gloomy atmosphere that turns to be very difficult to escape from. It starts with Mr Verloc's visit to "the embassy" where he is assigned a mission to "justify" his work as secret agent. Being scornfully treated, he finds himself involved in a plot that leads him to take actions he would have never think of...wouldn't he...? Thus, his initial attempt to blow up the Greenwich observatory ends up in a dreadful tragedy whose unspeakable consequences had not been meant by his author.

Although not easy to follow for the non-native reader, which is my case, this appalling and great story is really worthwhile. I am glad I have made the effort.

The funniest, strangest, or worst (depending on how you look at it) thing about Joseph Conrad's "The Secret Agent" is that it makes light of a situation -- terrorism -- that maybe was not a big deal at the time it was written but nearly a hundred years later has become a fearsome world problem. The terrorist activity described in this novel apparently is based loosely on a real incident, but Conrad avoids specifying any actual political motivations and instead makes his story as basic and general as possible.

The "terrorist" is a most unassuming man named Mr. Verloc. He runs a stationery and news store in London where he lives with his wife Winnie, her mother, and her mildly retarded brother Stevie. For the past eleven years he has been drawing pay from an unspecified foreign Embassy for occasional information on the activities of an anarchist organization, the "local chapter" of which is comprised of a bunch of malcontent duffers whom he has managed to befriend. An official at the Embassy, Mr. Vladimir, thinks Verloc is not very bright and plans to use him as an agent provocateur to get the anarchist organization in trouble. He suggests to Verloc to blow up an unlikely but symbolic target, the Greenwich Observatory; as the source of the prime meridian or zero-degree longitude, it's like the seam of the world. Using a bomb made by another of society's outcasts, a creepy fellow known only as the Professor, Verloc enlists Stevie's help to carry out his scheme.

Fast forward to immediately after the (unsuccessful) bomb blast: Police Chief Inspector Heat is investigating the incident, reconstructing the crime back to its source, and, interestingly enough, competing with his own superior officer. The post-blast events are where the novel really develops unexpectedly, in which we see what kind of tenuous relationship Verloc has with his wife, and the cruel treachery of one of his dishonest comrades. The structure of the novel is remarkable in the way it establishes the chronology of events, sets the pacing, and lets the scenes unfold as naturally as if they were being staged.

I found this novel to be a lot of fun and, despite the serious subject matter and the fact that it was considered quite violent for its time, actually kind of funny. I see it as not an attempt at a spy story or "thriller" but rather an early example of black humor, in which the narrative is filled with wry wit and each character is given a certain comical edge as if Conrad were making subtle fun of the whole business. It is a book that defies expectations, discards formulas, and immerses itself in the tremendous possibilities of the creativity of great literature.

Robert Louis Stevenson was without a doubt one of the greatest historical/adventure novelists that ever lived, and Kidnapped is unquestionably one of his best works. My only regret is that I waited so long to finally read it. It was a new and exciting change from Treasure Island, a book which I love, but have read approximately once every year since the second grade. Finally, longing for a little swashbuckle, and wishing for a way out of my Jim Hawkins rut, I picked up Kidnapped, and was immediately swept off on a thrilling, suspenseful and exhilarating adventure through the Scottish highlands. For days I sat rigid on the edge of my seat, eagerly following the young David Balfour as he was cheated of his inheritance by his wily uncle, kidnapped by pirates, and befriended by a cocky Jacobite outlaw. Breathlessly, I followed him and his companion as they were falsely accused of murder and forced to flee from British troops. Finally, I heaved a sigh of contented disappointment as the story ended, glad at the way things had ended, yet upset that it all had to end and that I would at last have to part from the two heroes of whom I had grown so fond. This is without a doubt a book that I will reread as many times as I have Treasure Island, and I envy the lucky reader who is picking it up for the first time. It is thrilling, exciting, suspenseful, unpredictable, and thoroughly intoxicating. After reading it, my thirst for such dashing adventure was so terrible that I immediately had to run to the library and lay my hands on every adventure novel I could find. I would highly reccommend it to every lover of adventure stories, particularly those with a historical base. I would suggest though that first time readers take a minute to read just a very little bit about the Jacobite rebellions, particularly the one of 1745. It will help greatly to clarify the story, and make it that much more enjoyable. (If indeed, it could get any better than it already is!)

I missed this one as a kid, which is too bad, because I think I would have appreciated it then as well. Set following the failed Scottish rebellion, 'Kidnapped' tells the story of young David Balfour, whose greedy uncle tries to cheat him out of his inheritance by having him kidnapped and sold in the American colonies as a slave. On the way, however, he befriends a Jacobite rebel and is instead caught up in the Scottish troubles and has to fight his way back to his home and claim his inheritance. The adventure is all the more exciting because it feels like such a real world with all the careful place-related detail Stevenson employs. While the language can be difficult in places, that quickly fades once you get into the rhythm of the book.

"I will begin the story of my adventures with . . ." That's how Robert Louis Stevenson begins one of the best novels in his career, Kidnapped. Set in the aftermath of the Jacobite rebellion of 1745 in Scotland, Kidnapped is an intriguing story narrated by David Balfour, a young Whig and Lowlander of Scotland, who is tricked by his miserly uncle; survives attempted murder, kidnap and shipwreck; and in the company of Alan Breck, a Jacobite, escapes through the Highlands and returns home to claim his fortune. The book is a wonderful adventure story with a vivid, clear presentation of the ongoing events. Although originally written for entertainment, Kidnapped effectively blends David's adventures with the ongoing historical events of the time. In some ways this story relates to the lives of people in our present time, as people still do anything to try to keep family inheritances to themselves, and friends of different rival ethnic backgrounds try to look beyond their racial differences to maintain good friendships. These racial tensions run deep in the ancient misunderstanding between the two heroes themselves: Whig and Jacobite, Lowland conservative rationalist and romantic liberal Highlander. The book is written with such realism that one would think it to be the true adventures of a person during that period, carefully recorded in a diary before being published as a kind of biography. This just shows the distinct imagination the author uses to capture the roles and personalities of the characters, the themes, and the environment before putting them all together to produce one outstanding novel. Kidnapped is a novel so good that it could be enjoyed by anyone. But it distinctively calls out to those that want the suspense and adventure it has to offer. I recommend it for an intelligent reader in search of a good piece of historical fiction.