This small pamphlet was written just a few years after the Supreme Court's 1973 abortion decision in Roe v. Wade. All eyes back then were on the abortion issues, all but Effie Quay's. She looked ahead to the rise of infanticide which she saw rooted in the same arguments being aired in the abortion debate. After many years as a medical journalist, Effie Quay knew how how to research issues and present them intelligently. The last I heard, distribution of her small book was approaching 100,000, and it had justly become a minor classic in the right to life literature. If you can find a copy today, read it, and then recall that it was written some 20 years ago.

The "Horn Book Review" finds the presentation of this book "stilted," and calls the illustrations "dreadful." Good grief! This isn't intended to be F. Scott Fitzgerald for kids, nor an introduction to the fine arts. It is a "trying to teach Johnny that his penis is called a penis" book, and it works wonderfully for its target audience!

A brother and sister are taking a bath together. As they wash, and then dry off, they talk about the various parts of their bodies: which parts are shared by both, which are for boys only, which are for girls only, and what their proper names are. If this is "stilted," I suppose billions of parents routinely engage in "stilted" dialogues with their own kids in the same pattern.

It's refreshing to me that the book presents a boy and girl together, and educates both genders about *all* the body parts of *each*. There should be no shame or falsely-imposed mystery about basic human anatomy, and neither the author nor illustrator fall prey to that trap. The presentation is straightforward and honest in a way that young children understand and appreciate. The illustrations are accurate without being hideously graphic (the problem with so many of the "line drawing" books that lose children's interest with their black-and-white cross-sections of genitals), yet they are not so cartoonish as to be unclear.

My son loves the book, as do his young friends (many of whom have the book at their house, too), as did my three godchildren. Let the staff of the "Horn" have Gray's anatomy, if they choose -- my family likes "Bellybuttons are Navels," and I think your family will, too.

This book gives so many clear reasons for respecting our spirituality and sexuality. I want to pass it on to my little brother and sister, and keep it for my children so that they may understand the beauty of how God created us. Fr. Quay also makes no apologies for the strong stands that he takes regarding today's society.

This book is very exciting to read if you would like a better understanding of the mechanisms underlying behavior disorders such as AD/HD and ODD. It does an excellent job of evaluating competing theories that explain the disorders. It also descibes risk and protective factors and their implications for short- and long-term outcomes.

If only all books were this good! V.easy reading, I have not seen a better looking book or one more readable, its PHAIDON at there best.

Father Paul Quay died in Chicago at Loyola University on October 10, 1994. He was 70 years old. Although his formal academic doctorate was in Theoretical Physics, his secondary area of interest was theology. He wrote on both morals and spirituality. When he died, he held the position of Research Professor of Philosophy at the same university. His mother preceded him in death by five months. This posthumous book of 438 pages was first conceived as a project in 1964 through conversation with Winoc De Broucker, SJ, and then again in 1969 as a result of further investigation at Fourvière (Lyons) with Henri de Lubac, SJ. The book is really the exploration of the thought of de Lubac, and was distilled into its present form after being presented first as a university course, then as symposium lectures, then as essays. The book is therefore the result of thirty years of meditation upon the theme of "Recapitulation", that is, how the individual Christian goes through "biblical stages" of gradual transformation into the likeness of Christ. Father Quay's concern is practical and concrete through the vehicle of his massive and refined erudition. Some of the motivation to ponder these things came from Prof. Alfred Shatkin of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology--convinced atheist who forced Quay to answer hard questions about why Catholics or Christians in general might at times be no better or worse than atheists. Why is there this phenomenon of "baptized pagans"? The book deserves a wider appreciation. Hopefully it will find a translation into other European languages in the near future. There are three major parts: I. Adam and Christ: Original Sin; II. Recapitulation in Christ; III. The Church, the New Israel. The goal of the Christian life is maturity, and maturity in Christ is charity or love, as St. Ignatius says in the Contemplation on Love. Sacrificial love is not sentimentality. So how do we make progress in the Lord, and how do we go beyond "infancy" to "adulthood"? Father Quay explains in great detail the steps that are inherent in Sacred Scripture's presentation of spiritual development. The hermeneutical difficulties experienced by various generations of Christian thinkers and writers are outlined for us in a clear and direct style. The author is painstakingly precise. His definition of "the spiritual sense of Scripture" is particularly well-defined and exact. It seems that, for the West, a disaster began with the detachment of learning from faith in divine revelation. Faith and reason were separated by a divorce, although very gradually and often not intentionally. We have arrived at the end of the present millennium with no faith at all, either in God or in man. The substitutes have all been found wanting, if not murderous. Father Quay explains the progressive spiritual decline of the West between the Renaissance and our own time. And Catholics need not boast--they have lost the spiritual sense of Scripture just as Protestants have. What we have here is the loss of the Christian sense of dependence upon God and his revelation. The literal sense alone constricts the source itself and prevents us from really understanding what is intended by the Bible, especially the Old Testament. It has become a body of texts for mere technicians, not a vision of history and the explanation of human existence itself. Quay calls this "Marcion's Revenge: the Disappearance of the Old Testament" (Chapter 20, pp. 396-422). Moreover, since the Enlightenment even the literal sense of Scripture has been under attack by the savants, referred to by Paul Johnson as "intellectuals". As he says on page 414, "Now, the damage done by an academic approach to the faith through the growth of Western university culture seems to have come in large measure from the late scholasticism that increasingly ignored or misunderstood the spiritual senses of the Bible." Our contemporary fascination with cultural analysis is the symptom, not the cause, of a prior phenomenon in the loss of the transcendent. Love of God has been replaced with self-preoccupation. Incidentally, Quay is clear that St. Thomas Aquinas is not to be classified among the rationalists. Thomas had not lost or bypassed the spiritual sense of Scripture (pp. 414-415). After some comments on Christianity outside the West, and its future in those places, the book ends with some reflections on the future more generally, and an epilogue. He says, "It is essential, however, to remember that recapitulation is a sharing in the inner life of Jesus." (p. 421) Evil in the world is only overcome by love, and that love is ultimately seen in the Trinity. We grow in Christ by suffering and learning to love as He loves us already. While it sounds so trite, what Father Quay has done for us is clarify the steps along the way, especially to show how the alternatives have produced the present state of affairs in our Western world. This book is about structures. It is about the structure of charity, the structures of growth, and the structure of the Christian life. It is about the structure of the human person, that is, of ourselves, how we are structurally in sin, and how we can achieve by God's grace a transformation that makes us like Christ. While we take for granted the "what" in our thoughts about the Christian life, what Father Quay does is demonstrate that the "how" is both coherent and imperative today. Sacred Scripture is more relevant than ever, but only if it is fully grasped in all its senses.

After seeing the beautifully moving film, Lili, I had to read the novella it was based upon. That led me to Love of Seven Dolls. I expected something similar to Lili's colorful, soulful setting, but Gallico is anything but. His writing is a storm of emotions, action, and darkness - inexplicably compelling and enrapturing. The language isn't particularly polished or eloquent, but the feeling behind them is breathtakingly fierce. Through simple, almost juevenile words, Gallico takes you into the anti-hero Michel Peyrot's mind. He's half-mad and starved of any human kindness. The use of the seven puppets is a stroke of genius and perfectly illuminates Michel's sadly distorted spirit. The protagonist, Mouche, is abused, tender, and childlike, but is wise beyond her time as we see when we delve into her humility, forgiveness, gratitude.

I found some parts to be rather disturbing, but this is a study of the best and worst of humanity: Mouche's heroism and Michel's depravity. It's not simple or even realistic, but it mines psychological nuances uncannily, reminiscent of A Streetcar Named Desire. Recommended for mature readers.

This slender little novel is possibly one of the most beautiful love stories ever written. Inspired by puppeteers Fran Allison and Burr Hillstrom (to whom it is dedicated), this haunting tale by Paul Gallico weaves a spell of wonder, pain and enchantment. It is a love story in which innocent love (personified by the gamin, Mouche) and cynical hatred (embodied by the evil puppeteer, Michel Peyrot) are locked in mortal combat for the ultimate prize of the man's soul. Peyrot, who goes under the stage name Captain Coq, had a nightmarish childhood and adolescence devoid of human love. His bitter view of his fellow man is only solidified by his experiences in a war. He decides that God deserves nothing but his mockery, so to mock his Creator the man carves puppets, forming them into all of the facets of his complex personality. There are seven dolls: Ali the clumsy giant, self-absorbed and jealous Gigi, world-weary Madame Muscat, kindly Monsieur Nicholas, the bookwormish Dr. Duclos, efficient and clever Carrot-Top, and the thieving fox Reynardo. At first carved to amuse the guards when Peyrot is a POW, the puppets begin to take on a life of their own. This is shown when the girl Mouche walks toward the Seine River to end her miserable life. The puppets call out to her and draw her into their magical world; she interacts with them as though they are living beings like herself. Mouche is so charming that she becomes part of the act. Unfortunately, the master of the puppets is a cruel man who has given himself over to an existence devoted to evil. He despises the girl for the very innocence that makes her such a successful part of his puppet show. To her face, Peyrot shows the depths of his cruelty, even raping her in a vain attempt to debase her to his level. Yet though he can ravage her body, he cannot touch her soul, which is healed anew every day by the love he shows her through his puppets. His inability to reconcile his hatred for general humanity with the unwelcome tenderness Mouche arouses in him leads to schizophrenia, which is manifested by the schism between himself and the puppets. After a time, he does not control them; they compel him to change. In the end, when Mouche prepares to leave, he reveals his plan to commit suicide through the dolls, who plan to destroy themselves. She then realizes who the puppets truly are, and her love for Peyrot brings him back from the edge of the pit into which he'd planned to fling himself. He weeps in remorse, his deformed soul at last becoming human. Feminists would doubtless be upset by her forgiveness of this man's cruelty, but women have long possessed an amazing ability to embrace men's imperfections.(Which is not to say that women are perfect.) Long before psychobabble such as Martian Men and Venusian Women surfaced, this story served to beautifully point out that men and women may be equal, but they are certainly not the same. This is a magical tale, woven by a master story-teller. I highly recommend it.

Love of Seven Dolls,which was presented to me by my beloved teacher at the age of 15,changed my life in the sense that it made me aware of who I am and what I seek in life.Like Mouche,the lonely naive girl,I have been searching to be found,secure and loved.The story moves constantly between hope and despair,helplessness and salvation.The beautiful descriptions and its atmosphere reminds me well of my favorite Pachelabel Canon in D,where one could also find the longing for universal cosmic love.

As tragedy is actually an unfinished comedy,I regard Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux as unfinished Love of Seven dolls.Both men,Michele and Erik have known secluded and bitter and miserable lives,but whereas Michele finally earned true love,Erik dies alone.I will never know rest till I can give Erik all the love Michele got from Mouche;after all,it was the only thing Erik craved.I believe Love of Seven Dolls is an important psychological lesson to everyone who has suffered rejections in life(not only in love):Never lose Hope!or like in Nana Mouskouri`s song "I have a dream"-you can take the future,even if you fail.The story teaches us the essential message that everyone deserves to love and be loved,and soulmates do exit. I am only hope I will find my Erik one day soon.

I'm not terribly familiar with Gallico. Years ago a girlfriend introduced me to _The Man Who Was Magic_, a delightful allegory I've taken with me everywhere since, but which does not appear anywhere in Amazon's offerings. Only this week I finally picked up _The Snow Goose_, which didn't do much for me I'm afraid, and then this one.

This is a peach! Gallico wants to pay tribute to the elder, working class British woman who cleans other people's homes and is known as a char. Widowed, near or in her 60s, Mrs. Harris one day develops the notion of owning a Dior original, something utterly perfect and beautiful ... but at 450 to 500 pounds (maybe $1200 in the late 1950s when this book was published) far out of her budgetary range.

How she does it, and what happens to her in Paris when she makes a day trip to realize her dream, is the stuff of magic. The characters are all believable; what they say and do in any given situation is completely plausible; and yet the aggregate of events and coincidences that come together to complete this tale are utterly (but forgivably) incredible -- as in any fairy tale.

Being a reader/viewer who has thrilled to Samuel Beckett, Ingmar Bergman, and Harlan Ellison, I tend to avoid the word "heartwarming" like the Black Death. But that's the perfect word for this lovely little book.

The story of a London charwoman who goes to Paris to improbably buy a long-desired Dior dress is a jaunty, light comedy which began a series of pure entertainments. Mrs. 'Arris is an enchanting character in that her fundamental ordinary humanity and decency, rather than any superhuman virtue or penetrating insight, allows her to connect with those about her. This is musical comedy fiction, gently told, well done. All the Mrs. 'Arris books are splendid reads, and deserve at least a reissue, if not a film series.

I picked this up in a library because the title amused me. It's just a little slice-of-life story about an ordinary woman, not stunningly gorgeous, or rich, or romantic -- in fact she's just a Cockney char nobody noticed. Until she did something unexpected just because she wanted to, changing other people's lives in the process. It's a beautiful story.

When handed this book I thought I'd never read it because of its length, subject matter, and title but ended up thoroughly enjoying it. John L Moore wrote this book using the most descriptive yet, strangely enough, concise language I have read in years. He writes this completely utilizing the English language for all it is worth. I couldn't wait to reach the end of this story and yet was disappointed when the book was over.
The only true disappointment to this book was that it ended and I could not find another book by this wonderful author. Read "The Breaking of Ezra Riley" and enjoy the ride it takes you on.

This isn't a thriller, or a shoot-'em-up western, or even a mystery. This is a raw and real story, set in the recent American West, where men are expected to be men, and dreamers are tossed to the side.

Ezra Riley is an artistic kid stuck in Montana. He loves the land and the work, but his personality is being stifled. Through a series of events, he returns to his childhood home and memories, forced to face his fears and inadequecies.

Moore writes with depth and feeling, slowly dragging you into the story, slowly twisting your heart into a knot. When he finally lets go on the last page, he doesn't do so flippantly or tritely--like many Christian novelists--he does so with tough and tender appreciation for his reader, his protaganist, and for the God that Ezra Riley's been fighting throughout.

This book will set in your thoughts with all the warmth and poignancy of the setting Montana sun.

I have had the pleasure of corresponding with John L. Moore and purchasing other books from him. He is a very genuine man. Some of the out of print books available in limited numbers by the author. I highly recommend this fabulous book. While not a fast reader, I was able to complete the saga of Exra Riley in a matter of a few days. One does not wish to put the book down and I often would tell myself ,"just one more chapter." This novel hit me in the right time and place and has me aching for wild spaces. It has been an encouragement as well, especially for all of us who feel that we don't measure up in some way.

After reading Living With A Hog On My Back, one should never feel sorry for themself ever again. Rather than accepting defeat at the mercy of breast cancer and multiple sclerosis, Michelle Hays chose not to surrender. She has experienced discomfort well beyond what most of us can imagine in one lifetime.
Her husband, Tom, has been dedicated to unending support both physically and emotionally. The author relates her family history in tracing the origins of her illnesses. She has, and will continue to successfully fight this battle for the remainder of her life.
Highly recommended inspirational reading!

Living With A Hog On My Back

“WHICH ONE OF YOU ANCIENT, DECREPIT, DECEASED CULPRITS GAVE ME THESE ROTTEN GENES ?” screams Michele Hayes from her book, Living With A Hog On My Back. Michele, who was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis in the summer of 1989 and the first of two breast cancer diagnoses at age 39, answers this rant with an examination of the good and the bad that she is a product in her autobiography. In the midst of all this physical calamity, Michele embarked upon her family geneaology to unearth the reason for her physical frailty and strength of spirit.

Michele, a long time resident of Highland Park, was able to discuss her autobiography with me on a sunny Saturday morning in October. As we got acquainted, Michele apologized for not getting in contact with me sooner due to a recent hysterectomy because of uterine cancer. I sat in amazement at her casual approach to all the ailments that had plagued her. The casual approach did not strike me as a denial but a resolve to tackle these ailments and survive. I entered her world knowing she had an important story of self-preservation that could give others inspiration.

Michele writes a witty, smooth story that juxtaposes her journey through life with tales of her ancestors. Her life might resemble yours as she depicts her love of archaeology, her ups and downs as an office worker and graduate student, and the enduring support of Tom, her husband. But reality hits when she precisely defines her MS and BC diagnoses and treatments, the death of her brother in law from diabetes, and the spiritual and emotional anguish that chronic illnesses carry. Her survival with dignity, humor, and determination are attributed to the genetics of ancestors who had strong minds “Using the fine example of Mother raising me and seeing her struggles after my father’s death, coupled with observation of others emotionally strong female family members, gives credence to my fight.”

Living With A Hog On My Back is authored by Quincy Quay. Michele explained this is her pen name, as a tribute to her father, Quincy Quay, who died of a cerebral hemorrhage when she was a young girl. In an excerpt from her book Michele writes,
My father dies, in my 14th year, a ray of sun in a dark
room, a Grandfather not dead, not buried, and Harlem’s (town
character) bent, dark, shadowy frame in the night. This was
some of my childhood. And, it was all welling to a certain,
imminent fate.
For over the last twelve years, it’s as if I’ve been thrown
over an apex by some scathing, murderous mob, left only to hobble
down a dimly lit, nightmarish road, With no way station or
solace in sight, I’m forced to lay out the playing cards I carry in
my hands. Is it God who controls the “laying of the hands”?

Living With A Hog On My Back is a book of the endurance and adaptability of the human spirit. Michele Hayes’ ability to reach out to others is appropriate for all readers seeking inspiration in humanity. She believes, “Accepting new and different concepts in life can be a challenge, because its process exposes the vulnerability in us all.” Michele’s autobiography was a vulnerable challenge achieved that can inspire another’s challenge.

A portion of royalties from sales of the book will be donated to organizations providing services to BC and MS patients.

After finishing this book, I came to several conclusions. There's nothing wrong with an individual expressing complete vulnerability in an effort to help themselves...and more importantly others. It is often times a display of that nature that forces the rest of us "who watch" to confront our own deepest needs and address our own darkest fears. In a courageous assessment of her own human suffering: physical, emotional, and spiritual; Michele will challenge the reader to find the inner meaning of one's own personal struggle and hardship. This book is as much inspirational as it is gutsy. Somehow, it will also make you laugh at yourself as you wonder why we take ourselves so seriously over absolutely the most meaningless trivial pursuits in our day-to-day lives. This book will help us to re-evaluate what is important - that nothing is guaranteed in this life, and that loving relationships can save others from the hells of personal torment. Well done Shelley. This was a great effort and I appreciate your heart. The best is yet to come.