Namely, look to your neighbor in love, not anger; recognize the nobility in working hard for something rather than expecting charity; be willing to give yourself to a greater cause; believe that people are capable of great things and they will live up to your expectations; recognize the importance of education, not just of the mind, but of the body and soul as well; recognize that any man who provides value to the community in which he lives will be accepted and even welcomed into that community; and above all, trust in God to care for your needs.

I highly recommend this book as a testament to the positive result of thinking from a perspective of Love and Abundance rather than Anger and Scarcity. When Mr. Washington's humility is measured against his accomplishments, he becomes in my eyes one of the greatest Americans to have lived.

Unlike Frederick Douglass, the severe critic of the slaveholding South, Washington's outlook is decidedly postive. He refuses to get into any kind of individual or group bashing, but prefers to dwell on the successes of blacks, improving race relations, and the success of his school- and students. He becomes enamored of his own success on the stump, but such is the case with most ambitious, forward looking individuals. I would have liked a bit more criticism, and fewer excerpts from the newspapers of his time (regarding his speech-making ability.) His repeated refrains about service and merit (being the only true measure of a man), are sound. All in all, this is an upbeat, inspiring story from a man who truly defied the odds, and his winning attitude is sorely needed today.

The novel begins with a tip of the hat to that fine progenitor of the novel, "Don Quixote," a Gines-like acknowledgment that Moll, as the author of her own story, cannot complete that story within the text of the novel, unless people can write when they are deceased. Amusements aside, Moll begins her story as Crusoe begins his, with an immediate acknowledgment of the instability of the modern self - the corruption of her own name. Born in Newgate prison, and having never known her mother, Moll finds herself among gypsies and landed gentry before settling in Colchester for the term of her youth. Here, she founds her sense of social ambition, unusual even for Jane Eyre in the 19th century, as one in which she figures to be a gentlewoman by earning her own living. Various mishaps and misadventures lead her through marriages, whoredom, and thievery as Moll attempts to find her place in the world as a woman of common birth. Early on she learns the lessons that will aid her on her journey, viz., the value of money, quick wit, and a sense of her own sexuality.

While Defoe certainly does not sugar-coat the wrongs of woman in the early 18th century - delving deeply into issues of feminine helplessness before the law, the difficulties of procuring stable employment, and various reproductive issues such as adoption, abortion, and infant mortality - yet he maintains a consistent character of Moll as an extremely strong, adaptive, and resilient female character. The most riveting facet of Moll throughout is her own sense of self-worth and importance, especially in her own history. For instance, while chronicling an encounter with a former lover, Moll tells us that while his adventures are worth their own narrative, this is "my story, not his." Moll's strength in the midst of doubt, desperation, and general loneliness keeps the reader's constant interest and admiration.

Defoe's exploration of inter-gender relationships are worthy of note themselves for the sheer variety of social, economic, and personal situations he includes in the novel. The economic theme stands out among these, and provides a link back to the preoccupations of "Robinson Crusoe." Like Crusoe, Moll is always aware of the value of her personal possessions, and conscious of how to exploit and husband her resources to best advantage. Also like Crusoe, "Moll Flanders" is keenly aware of the possibilities and drawbacks of English colonial ventures in America. Defoe's efforts to link all these themes to the lot of the English prison population, the family unit, and indentured servants and African slaves, are all managed extremely well within the text of the novel. For all this, "Moll Flanders" remains an entertaining, satisfying, relevant novel, and stands for me above "Crusoe" as a work of high literary value.

This books is colored with enjoyable stories and anecdotes from Franklin's life. Every page is full of little aphorisms and maxims in witty tales about events in Franklin's life. I'd recommend this book for the quality of Franklin's wisdom. Even if he wasn't so important to the birth of the United States, this book would still be cherished by the American people.

Certainly Franklin became omnipresent in American history (the greatest president who was never president, as I recall) partly because of his own efforts at self-promotion, of which "The Autobiography" is a prime example along with the constant reprinting of "Poor Richard's Almanac" (see the preface to the last edition in 1758 entitled "The Way to Wealth," which presages the autobiography). Franklin was first and foremost a moralist concerned with the personal, social, and civic improvement of his fellow citizens. The book opens with a letter, written to his son William in 1771. Of course, William, the Royal Governor of New Jersey, is forty years old, so the advice being offered is not to his literal (illegitimate) son but rather to any and all "youth." The book is intended as an exemplar for moral action and virtues.

Part I has Franklin describing his ancestry and lineage, covering his precocious childhood where he learned the virtues and morals that would serve him in good stead as an adult. Indeed, the story of Franklin becoming a successful businessman and important citizen in Philadelphia is a series of anecdotes in which he uses his intelligence and wit to solve any and all challenges. As autobiography we know this account to be flawed, for Franklin recreates his life to suit his purpose, but as rhetorical exemplar it is impressive. Part II reinforces this point by beginning with a pair of letters from Abel James and Benjamin Vaughn, who praise Part I for having celebrated the frugality, industry, and temperance necessary for a man's character to develop as a prelude to success. This section was written ten years after the first, when Franklin was in France. Here Franklin discusses moral perfection and the importance of industry and frugality in achieving success. Part III was written when Franklin returns home to Philadelphia in August of 1788, and continues the detailing his long career of public service, from publisher "Poor Richard's Almanac" to becoming Postmaster of the United States. Part IV is something of a fragment devoted to an episode in London in 1747 when Franklin became an early proponent of American rights. Ironically, this section, which would have contained the autobiographical information we would most want to hear with regards to the fight for Independence, is the briefest.

Ultimately, what becomes most important about "The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin" is that it serves as the genesis of the aristocracy of merit in the United States. Franklin's life is the model for the stories of Horatio Alger a century later and instantiates the idea that America is the land of opportunity where it is by merit that we can earn success. That idea has been expressed in countless ways since this book was first published in all its myriad forms, but the life of Franklin is the font from which it all springs.

This was very enjoyable for me. I would recommend that everyone take a risk and read this one.

Helen Keller, blind and deaf since the age of 1 1/2 has offered, in her own words an accounting of her life experience. It is incredible to imagine how this woman, unable to see or hear can give such a strong voice to descriptions of nature. The book is replete with beautiful, articulate metaphors that draw the reader into the world as Helen knew it. One wonders how a person with no language can "think," and Helen provides some clues. During these "dark days," prior to the arrival of her "Teacher," Annie Sullivan, Helen's life was a series of desires and impressions. She could commnicate by a series of crude signs she and her parents had created. She demonstrated early on that she could learn.

I like the way Helen herself takes her readers past that water pump when she learned that "all things have a name." Instead of getting stuck there, Helen takes her readers on the journey of her life to that point.

In addition to having a good linguistic base, Helen also demonstrates having a phenomenal memory. When she was twelve, she wrote a story she believed to be her own. Entitled "The Frost King," it bore a strong resemblance to one written by a Ms. Canby called "The Frost Fairies." Many of the sentences are identical and a good number of the descriptions are paraphrased. In relating this devasting incident, Helen and Annie recall that Annie had exposed Helen to the story some three years earlier and Helen had somehow retained that information. This plainly shows intelligence.

Both the "Frost" stories are reprinted in full, thus giving the reader a chance to see just how amazing being able to remember such a work really was.

Helen describes her work raising money for other deaf-blind children to attend the Perkins School for the Blind in Boston and in so doing, embarks upon her lifelong mission as a crusader for multiply challenged individuals.

Keller's autobiography, "The Story of My Life," first appeared in installments in "Ladies' Home Journal" in 1902. This book is truly one of the great American autobiographies: an inspiring story of a courageous individual who overcame tremendous odds.

Keller writes about many things: her childhood in Alabama; her relationship with her beloved teacher, Anne Sullivan; her attendance at the Wright-Humason School for the Deaf in New York City; and meeting such eminent figures as Mark Twain. She especially stresses her love of literature, which she describes as "my Utopia."

Along the way are some fascinating details and profoundly moving passages. Her tribute to the Homer, the blind poet of ancient Greece, is particularly powerful. I also loved her interpretation of the biblical Book of Ruth: a story of "love which can rise above conflicting creeds and deep-seated racial prejudices."

I think that many will regard Keller's autobiography as a mere historical or sociological document. But I think the book deserves a place as a great work of literature, and moreover as a work of literature in the great American tradition. Keller's poetic, often sensuous words about the natural world are comparable to the work of Emily Dickinson. And her stirring account of her revelatory awareness of language reminds me of Frederick Douglass' account of his first awareness of the power of literacy. The book as a whole is enhanced by Keller's charming, likeable literary style.

"The Story of My Life" is a wonderful book by an amazing individual. Helen Keller still has, I believe, much to say to contemporary audiences.

James allows us to perceive the motivations of each of these primary characters and we come to recognise that Catherine is in fact in danger of being deceived. The father who is not a very sympathetic character is insightful enough to do what is necessary in his view to prevent this.

The characters are all well concieved and remain true to type throughout the story.

A bonus is the setting of old New York and the scenes of a growing city are vividly drawn. Imagine a time when moving "uptown" meant moving to what is now the Village.

Overall I really enjoyed this and would highly recommend it

This novella by Henry James finds the prolific author uncharacteristically tight-lipped. It's a good primer to his later, much more challenging Wings of the Dove, which is also about the way money, or the lure of money, ironically cheapens and devalues human relationships. But Wings of the Dove is an experimental novel, where the story is decidedly secondary to James's psychological probings. Washington Square -- more unassuming, more unpretentious, more straightforward -- is also much more disturbing. The central character, Catherine Sloper, is martyred by James right off the bat as "plain," without compensatory wit or intelligence. She has a good heart, but it's implied that this is just a side effect of her rather bovine complacence. Her martinet father can't help but blame her for his beloved wife's death, and her only companion is an insipid, scheming aunt, the kind of woman whose modern day equivalent scours Cosmopolitan for advice on how to land a husband. With no outlet for her untapped stores of affection, and more than one void to fill, the ingenuous Catherine is easy prey -- carrion -- for a handsome and unscrupulous fortune hunter named Morris Townsend.

Accustomed as we are to Jane Austen's tart-tongued heroines, not to mention modern day losers who have a knack for bucking the odds -- Forrest Gump, The Waterboy, almost any other piece of bogus Hollywood populism you care to name -- James's acceptance of Catherine's fundamental unredeemability leaves the reader in the lurch. It gets under your skin. The chilly effectiveness of Washington Square derives partly from the fact that seemingly everyone, author included, is conspiring against poor Catherine. Her aloneness is almost unbearable. We can't help but reflect how happiness is genetic, and that if she had been born with a more expansive personality ( or bust size ) the world of men would be at her disposal. Instead, the reader waits in vain for a reversal of fortune; either Catherine will blossom, her father will learn to love her unconditionally, or she'll come to her senses and shoot down her transparently insincere suitor. Nothing like that happens. In fact, there's the uncomfortable suggestion that Catherine knows she's being strung along, and lets it happen anyway. It's either that or stay home and knit.

By the end of the novel, it's clear that James is attempting something like an American version of Flaubert's Sentimental Education. Both stories track a confused character through a long period of time, zeroing in on their obsession with an unattainable love object. In each novel, the reader's hopes are raised for change, epiphany, victory, only to be rewarded with disappointment, anticlimax, and the ruthless thwarting of expectations. However, where the resigned Flaubert is simply sighing "C'est la vie," James is pointing a few stubby fingers: at capitalism, at stubborn pride, at the simple unfairness of fate. James may seem mostly apathetic to Catherine but he, more than anyone, could relate to the agony of spinsterhood. This book seethes under its mask of propriety.

Katherine, who appears to be "tamed" by Petruchio's cruelties, learns the art of subtlety and diplomacy that will enable her to survive in a society ruled by men. Her speech in the last scene is not a humbling affirmation of the superiority of men, but a tounge-in-cheek ridicule of Petruchio, Lucentio, and Hortensio, who think that a woman can be tamed like a wild animal by a few days of bumbling controll.

The Folger Library of Shakespeare's plays are the most readable editions that I have seen. There are detailed side notes and definitions of unfamiliar words, which are perfect for the reader who is not familiar with Shakespearean English.

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde is one of those stories, like Frankenstein and Dracula, that seemingly everyone has heard of and believes they understand("mythopoetic " in the language of Joyce Carol Oates). Much like the aforementioned works, the actual details of the story may come as a surprise to those who assume they know the story based solely on the popular understanding. For that reason alone I think the book is worth reading.

Dr. Jekyll is a respected if somewhat reclusive London doctor who has, through the course of years of experimentation, managed to create a solution which brings to the fore his evil alter-ego. Unlike many gothic literary villains, Hyde is not imbued with superhuman strength or exceptional gifts of any kind. In fact he is of a smaller and less imposing stature than most men. What he does possess however is a complete lack of compunction with regards to others. Hyde for example ruthlessly runs down a small child who gets in his way. As others have pointed out, this book is about, at least in part, moral restraint. Mr. Hyde is a part of Dr. Jekyll. This part was heretofore kept in check by the mores inculcated by society through child rearing practices, education, laws, et al. An elixir that eradicates moral restraint rips at the fabric of society and reverses in one fell swoop what it has taken hundreds of years to create.
As is the case with Frankenstein, Dr. Jekyll creates something that he can't control and which eventually destroys its creator.

Although not created by a potion, I think we see many sections in this and other societies that are are marked by anomie. The inhumanity that the fictional Hyde displays can, not surprisingly, be seen in the non-fictional world on a daily basis. As such, there is a realism to the story which is missing from many horror stories past and present. The fact that such a short and captivating work exists in an attractively packaged edition makes this one classic that will be a joy to read for all.

Joyce Carol Oates's introduction is worthwhile, especially for those readers who know the story, as most English-speaking people do, in its basic framework, but who have not yet actually traveled the dark road with Dr. Jekyll and his friends.

It is a pleasure to read a classic book in such a carefully crafted edition. Too often books such as this are printed in cheap editions with narrow margins and lousy type; this one fits comfortably in the hand and is easy on the eye as the reader is drawn into this allegorical nightmare.

This review refers to the University of Nebraska Press edition only.

Magic, Power, and Conspiracy are the foundational thematic elements through which Shakespeare effects Prospero's reintegration into human society. Thrown into a boat with his infant daughter Miranda, Prospero comes to live on a nearly deserted island in the Mediterranean Sea. Prospero's concentration on developing his proficiency in Magic caused him to become alienated from his political and social responsibilities in Milan, leading to his expulsion. His brother Antonio conspired with Alonso, king of Naples, and seized the power Prospero forsook for book-learning.

Prospero hears of a sea voyage undertaken by his enemies, and, using his Magic, whips up a storm, a great tempest, which causes his enemies to be shipwrecked on his island. On the island, Prospero exercises total power - over the education of his daughter, his slave, the deformed Caliban, and now over his enemies. He engages Ariel, a sprite, to orchestrate the division of the traveling party, and to put them through various trials to exact vengeance and ultimately, submission from them.

"The Tempest" is a fine effort from Shakespeare, but the power relations in the play are problematic. Prospero's insistent dominance over the action of the play is extremely troubling. Although he is presented as a benevolent character, Prospero's relationships with Miranda, Caliban, and Ferdinand, King Alonso's son, complicate his overall worth as a man and an authority figure. The dynamic between the slave Caliban and the drunks, Trinculo and Stephano, is also very unsettling.

Overall, "The Tempest" remains a whimsical flight of imagination, while exploring intriguing themes of education, political intrigue, and romance. Certainly, it is still a well-constructed and entertaining play after nearly four hundred years.