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Very good story
bye-byeA definite plus to any collection.
"Bye-Bye" : a game of esoteric exploration and returnThe protagonist, changes her identity and she gets involved in three love affairs at the same time. And as she tries to escape her past ( her childhood, her mother - her father, her schizophrenic brother and her husband even her current affairs which become past so quickly ) , testing her limits moving forward, I can listen to the poetic motive, which accompanies this "voyage", this adventure : "Bye - Bye".
"Bye - Bye" is both a farewell to a life and an itching for an esoteric exploration, acceptance and catharsis.
In the very beginning, I liked that a woman writer dares to write about sexual fantasies fictionalizing them especially in a country where "people are scandalized by the same thing that they feel excited". But after that, I understood the most important : that the sex scenes are not only "fresh" but also true , tender, lively and essentially linked with the structure and the development of the characters , almost innocent, unapologetic and that's why poetically attractive.
Also, I would like to mention some fragments of the book that I liked very much because of its profundity, of its poetic precision , and because of its lyrical quality. See, for example, in one of them, how beautifully fictionalized are the scenes from the childhood of the protagonist :
"But it was only after my mother ran off with the chairman of my fathers drama department that a force field up sprang up creating The House. It was precisely then that gravity increased ; the floor became hypermagnetized .From then on, objects fell and stuck to it -towels. books, dishes, newspapers, bottles cans, unopened mail, spoiled food...Most of our furniture also snapped, toppled , or sagged floorward.. For some weeks now, every day at 3.30 P.M. I lie face down on the kitchen floor, overwhelmed by the memory of my body growing heavier the moment I entered The House each day after my room , lock the door, and bulldoze through the piles of clothes, magazines, and hair curls to the bed, where I would lie still as a giant slug until evening."
See also the description of the schizophrenic brother :
" But back then, the only tidy place in The House was my brother's room. Within the first month after my mothers flight, he covered his walls with dozens of maps, all nearly Scotch taped or push-pinned in place, and dozens of clocks, all set to same correct time. On all the maps, my brother marked the location of "The House". Like me, he has always been ambitious : the maps varied in range from our township, to the United States, to the entire solar system. Sometimes my brother drew in The House as rectangle, with an isosceles triangle on top. Other times it was a red paper dot stuck on the planet Earth. On his desk , a chess game was perpetually in progress; my brother played both sides. He kept his room bathed in white light twenty four hours per day using ten or so lamps with bare light bulbs."
And listen to the rhythm in this wonderful fragment about the Lover :
" My lover is a puzzle. My lover is an anesthetic. My lover is a religion - a vague, impersonal power , pleasant to surrender to "
And, see, the rare lyrical quality in this sentence from the narration of her mother's death.
" The TV glowed like an arctic sun, twenty- four hours"
"The point of no return" : how strange, how poetically necessary, and poetically charged, how profoundly equivocal and evocative and at the same time perfectly linked with the purity of the memories of her childhood.
" All haunted houses remind me of my mother, as do all points of no return. Mom took me to one on my eighth birthday. A conveyer belt carried us through the dark. We stood upright, moving forward without walking whirrrrrr, as in a dream. Each of us gripped one handrail ( the rails moved in tandem with the belt, as on as escalator ), and held the others hand in the middle. We passed two witches, some skeletons, one werewolf, one vampire, one Frankenstain Whoosh!! Cold win blew against us, the darkness grew absolute, and the conveyer belt dipped downward as if we were falling ; a voice said, " You have reached the point of no return . Bye-byeeeee" I screamed and lunged at my mother. We were propelled past two heavy vinyl flaps , into full daylight . The ride was over.
Whenever we set out to seduce someone or to be seduced, it is always the point of no return to which we aspire After that point there is not going backward , it is going forward ,no matter what , there is no more doubt. ".
Jane Ransom, gifted with poetic profundity, sensibility, and discernment proves to be a real writer who deserves the best compliment : She made us to eagerly want to wait for her next novel.


Knowledge of the Past that Many Have Forgotton
Think with your own heart
This book will trigger your spiritual past life memories

Who Needs Third Grade
This is a good book
Who Needs Third Grade?

Velikovsky the Charlatan
<BR>Rejoinder and Rebuttal<BR>This special issue of KRONOS begins the demolition -- continued in "Scientists Confront Scientists Who Confront Velikovsky", which is still in print -- of the Cornell work (the title of which should be obvious).
These two issues of KRONOS were prepared in response to the published critiques, abuse, etcetera which were heaped on Velikovsky in what amounted to a public show trial -- conducted under the auspices of the AAAS -- familiar to those who have studied the Stalinist era.
This issue rebuts the hatchet jobs on Velikovsky which had been carried out by Carl Sagan and Isaac Asimov, and features three papers by Velikovsky himself. This is alas out of print, but should be available in used book search engines.
His arguments have never been answered except by the use of straw men (i.e., by not actually answering the arguments, but misrepresenting those arguments in ways) and false statements. His decades long call for the careful use of scientific dating methods to confirm or disconfirm both his chronology and the conventional pseudochronology has been ignored.
At least one of those who have taken up the Glasgow Chronology has made some odd (and false) statements about Velikovsky, which makes me suspect they're not entirely familiar with his work. Nevertheless, these lesser lights are generally correct that the conventional pseudochronology isn't correct, and is off by centuries. Otherwise their alternative chronologies don't hold up except where they're in agreement with Velikovsky's.
For those who don't know and can't be bothered to find out -- Velikovsky has nothing to do with UFOs, Sasquatch, or extraterrestrial intelligence. He was not a charlatan. Various parties continue to use such ad hominem attacks against the polymath Velikovsky, who died over twenty years ago. Beware of such folk -- they're the kind who want to squash debate, eliminate dissent, and crush opposition, all the while professing to be protecting you.
The story of Velikovsky at the AAAS symposium

More about "the cause" than artillery
Great Ibook about a young Confederate Officer ExperienceMr. Carmichael does a fantastic job of revealing how some of the young Confederate officers like Pegram viewed the Civil War. Since most Civil War books focus more on the Generals than the junior officers who actually fought the battles, I felt that this book really brought a new perspective to my understanding of the conflict.
I do not recommend this book for those who do not already possess a good understanding of the Civil War. Instead, I highly recommend this book to anyone who has gained an appreciation for the war, and is looking to find out more about its participants. This book really opened my eyes about "the Southern Cause", and how it meant different things to different people.
A wealth of insights

A fifth grader reviewed by a seventh grader
Read it!This was great book, but it was too much "fairytale-alike". I love this and this is great book but I still enjoy more of the author's books "My sister the Meanie" etc.
I'll rate this with 4 stars!


One Of The Better Paperbacks
Great book

3 Stars......And That's For King McCandless
Is there room on the Throne for me?DON'T miss this golden opportunity to put your hands on a winner! I've always been a fan of stories featuring rough and rugged ranchers and King McCandless fits the bill! When King's love interest, young and innocent Jesse LeBeau is ruthlessly attacked in her home in St. Louis one night, King gets the news and comes to the rescue in all his glory (and he's even got a white horse!). King brings Jesse home where she can mend her tortured spirit surrounded by friends and family who will keep her safe....or will they? It's fairly easy to figure out whose the bad guy half-way through the story, but this by no means takes away a minute of your reading pleasure. There are plenty of twists and turns and questions to be answered by the end of the book. After reading this book, who wouldn't wish they had their very own "King"?
If you're looking for a KING of a man, and a heck of a great story, get your hands on a copy of King's Ransom and you'll be happy you did! Happy reading!


"But it was only after my mother ran off with the chairman of my fathers drama department that a force field up sprang up creating The House. It was precisely then that gravity increased ; the floor became hypermagnetized .From then on, objects fell and stuck to it -towels. books, dishes, newspapers, bottles cans, unopened mail, spoiled food...Most of our furniture also snapped, toppled , or sagged floorward.. For some weeks now, every day at 3.30 P.M. I lie face down on the kitchen floor, overwhelmed by the memory of my body growing heavier the moment I entered The House each day after my room , lock the door, and bulldoze through the piles of clothes, magazines, and hair curls to the bed, where I would lie still as a giant slug until evening."
" But back then, the only tidy place in The House was my brother's room. Within the first month after my mothers flight, he covered his walls with dozens of maps, all nearly Scotch taped or push-pinned in place, and dozens of clocks, all set to same correct time. On all the maps, my brother marked the location of "The House". Like me, he has always been ambitious : the maps varied in range from our township, to the United States, to the entire solar system. Sometimes my brother drew in The House as rectangle, with an isosceles triangle on top. Other times it was a red paper dot stuck on the planet Earth. On his desk , a chess game was perpetually in progress; my brother played both sides. He kept his room bathed in white light twenty four hours per day using ten or so lamps with bare light bulbs."
" My lover is a puzzle. My lover is an anesthetic. My lover is a religion - a vague, impersonal power , pleasant to surrender to "
" The TV glowed like an arctic sun, twenty- four hours"
" All haunted houses remind me of my mother, as do all points of no return. Mom took me to one on my eighth birthday. A conveyer belt carried us through the dark. We stood upright, moving forward without walking whirrrrrr, as in a dream. Each of us gripped one handrail ( the rails moved in tandem with the belt, as on as escalator ), and held the others hand in the middle. We passed two witches, some skeletons, one werewolf, one vampire, one Frankenstain Whoosh!! Cold win blew against us, the darkness grew absolute, and the conveyer belt dipped downward as if we were falling ; a voice said, " You have reached the point of no return . Bye-byeeeee" I screamed and lunged at my mother. We were propelled past two heavy vinyl flaps , into full daylight . The ride was over "