Meticulous account by Wilson of his coming to terms with old age. His precise observations of his increasing enfeeblement, and of the "glitterati" with whom he socialized, make for fascinating reading. His restless movement from Manhattan to the countryside to the beach to Europe contrasts with the subtle melancholy of his narrative; it's a page-turner with a wintry mood. Disappointed by the surprising shabbiness of the Princeton Club, for example, Wilson says, "I doubt that I shall go there again," and it's as much an acknowledgment of his own mortality as a comment on the flaking plaster. The occasional summer breeze blows through, as when he indulges his passion for Hungarian culture in a suprisingly jaunty European excursion. Gossipy and detailed insider's glimpses abound: Wilson shows us the "Camelot" White House, visits Scottie Fitzgerald, and comments on the star-crossed relationship of Mike Nichols and Elaine May. (A bonus: The paperback is beautifully "packaged." Fine design, wonderful photographs, and the heft and feel of an expensive hardbound book.)

enterataining account of two young men who go on an adventure into the u.p of michigan in the 1930's with little money.based on a true story. follow these two from begining to end and see how bad things were in the depression and how they make the best of the hardships of the rugged u.p of michigan. read the book to find out more.

Keeley has written a novel of masterful suspense, baring the human emotions that tore apart Greece in WWII and afterwards. His cynical narrator is soon drawn into the maelstrom: finding a secret Nazi killer who massacred countless Greek Jews and organized atrocities that wiped out whole villages of simple farmers. Keeley calls this fiction, but he was there, the people are real, and the worst one of all is still with us! Read it and learn!

Best damn book on Spenser I have ever read!

Having read much criticism on Book 6, this is the only study that I have read that addresses all of the pertinent issues in Spenser's Book of Courtesy. This is a great read for any Spenser scholar or fanatic!

This is the original script for the stage presentation of Stalag 17. I have seen the film countless times in whole or in part. I have never seen it on stage. I did read this script about 28 years ago, and now I have finished it again.

There are some major differences in the complexity and focus of the play and the film. Some of this is obviously logistics: A play, especially with one stage setting over three acts, cannot be as complex as a film.

As I read through the script, I of course visualized each character that was in the play. I could picture Robert Strauss and Stosh (The Animal) and Harvey Lembeck as Harry Shapiro. I had a little trouble relating the Bill Holden version of Sefton to what is in the stage play. In the play he comes out as not always cynical and able to dialogue with the other characters more.

The play is good as far as it goes, and we have to remember that it came before the film. I think the film is a definite improvement on the basic story. Edmund Trzcinski co-wrote the play based on his own experiences, and then played in the film later. This implied that he approved of the changes made to make this story work on the screen.

I rank the film as my number three favorite of all time, following The Godfather Trilogy and West Side Story. Casablanca comes in at number four. (All rankings subject to change)

This book was very good and i would recomend this book to younger children. It has stories about an elite fighting force. It tells about the hardships of Ireland and one man's struggle. A very good book i would buy it

A superior guide to 25 of the top courses on the other side of the pond. Covering all the classic courses in the UK and Ireland -including St. Andrews (Old), Turnberry (Ailsa), Gleneagles (King's), Carnoustie, Royal County Down, K Club, Birkdale - it does include a couple of strange selections - notably Nick Faldo's Chart Hills and The Belfry (Brabazon). A welcome inclusion is Prestwick, not a Open course anymore, but still a wonderful links course in any age. Ballybunion is the glaring omission, as Strokesport haven't yet made it there to chart the course.

That minor gripe aside, each course is covered in loving detail - with wonderful graphics for each hole that clearly provide all you need to know before stepping out to play. Full yardages are provided; hazards, contouring and obstacles are clearly marked; and a brief but informative course overview advises the many options for playing each hole, depending on conditions, ability, etc. Each course is introduced with a few historical anecdotes as well as details of major tournaments played there. The well-chosen color photos simply entice you to jump on the nearest plane to any one of these wonderful destinations. From reading this, and observing each courses' design, it is clear that all are intriguing venues in their own right.

In sum, brilliant for course guidance and equally satisfying as an armchair reference for cold winter nights indoors.

"Sudden Vengeance (1950)" was originally published in England as "Frequent Hearses." Both titles are cribbed from "Elegy to the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady" by Alexander Pope:

"On all the line a sudden vengeance waits, / And frequent hearses shall besiege your gates."

Expect that even the most vicious murderer in an Edmund Crispin mystery will quote Dryden or Shakespeare at the drop of a garrote. "Sudden Vengeance" is a fertile setting for this type of classical badinage, since its plot involves the making of a film based on the biography of Alexander Pope. Gervase Fen, Oxford don of English Language and Literature, and amateur detective extraordinaire is hired by the film company as a story consultant, and he is plagued throughout the book by a Scotland Yard detective who is an amateur classics scholar. Fen wants to discuss the murder. Chief Inspector Humbleby wants to talk about the Brontes and Dr. Johnson. Neither one will admit to a less than perfect understanding of either his profession or his hobby, and both despise amateurs. Their encounters keep "Sudden Vengeance" sparkling along right up until its final page. Here is a sample of dialogue, wherein Inspector Humbleby deliberately misunderstands Fen's explanation of the film's subject:

"Based," Fen reiterated irritably, "on the life of Pope."

"The Pope?"

"Pope."

"Now which Pope would that be, I wonder?" said Humbleby, with the air of one who tries to take an intelligent interest in what is going forward. "Pius, or Clement, or--"

Fen stared at him. "Alexander, of course."

"You mean"---Humbleby spoke with something of an effort---"you mean the Borgia?"

All of Crispin's characters are carefully (one might say 'crisply') developed, and distinguished for the reader by a quirk or eccentric manner of speech (sometimes Crispin overplays the eccentricity at the expense of realism, especially with his main protagonist-- I do wish Fen would stop expostulating, "Oh, my fur and whiskers!"). Physical description is sketchy. If one of Crispin's characters walked past you in the street, you probably wouldn't recognize him. However, if you were to overhear his conversation with the postman---

And I don't mean to imply that "Sudden Vengeance" is all dialogue and no action. There is one especially harrowing scene where a young woman chases the murderer into a maze in order to learn his identity and then (when reason returns) can't find her way back out again. By the time Fen rescues her, she has endured an experience right out of an M.R. James horror story (in fact, the young woman quotes M.R. James at length while she is traversing the maze - a typical Crispin characteristic).

The mystery surrounding the murderer's identity and motivation is as cleverly convoluted as the maze, and it is equally as hard to get to its heart. Crispin himself wrote and published at least one film script and composed music for several films, so "Sudden Vengeance" is told with the knowledge of a movie industry insider.

If you like vintage British mysteries with a 'classical education' and haven't yet discovered the 'Professor Fen' novels, then you're in for a treat-- assuming you can find these out-of-print volumes. Here are all nine of the Fen mysteries plus two collections of short stories, in case you want to keep going:

"The Case of the Gilded Fly" ("Obsequies at Oxford"), 1944;
"Holy Disorders," 1945;
"The Moving Toyshop," 1946;
"Swan Song" ("Dead and Dumb"), 1947;
"Love Lies Bleeding," 1948;
"Buried for Pleasure," 1948;
"Frequent Hearses" ("Sudden Vengeance"), 1950;
"The Long Divorce," 1952;
"Beware of the Trains," 1953 (short stories);
"The Glimpses of the Moon," 1978;
"Fen Country," 1979 (short stories).

The British mystery author, Michael Innes a.k.a. John Innes Mackintosh Stewart wrote the introduction to "Swan Song," wherein he claims that Crispin solved the dilemma of the 'Great Detective versus the bumbling police' scenario that many Golden Age mystery authors had to contend with. The dilemma in a nutshell: why would a twentieth-century policeman, who was much more adept and scientifically trained than his counterpart in the late Victorian era of Sherlock and Mycroft, call in an amateur (no matter how intelligent) to help him with his inquiries?

According to Innes, "The Great Detective was, curiously, often a person of title, like Dorothy Sayers's Lord Peter Wimsey, or at least the familiar of persons of title. It is never easy to render plausible the acceptance of a meddlesome private investigator by a group of professional policemen standing round a corpse, and novelists appear to have felt that a lord will be better received..."

Innes himself wrote a series of mysteries starring the titled Sir John Appleby.

Crispin avoided the 'blue-blooded detective' solution. His detective, Gervase Fen is part of the same social milieu as the police. He is a professor of English literature at Oxford, but his cherished hobby is criminal investigation. His detective counterpart (Sir Richard Freeman in "Swan Song") has a passion for literary scholarship. Their dialogues (mainly disagreements) keep "Swan Song" swimming right along. It's definitely not a 'Great Detective versus bumbling policeman' relationship---it's more like two crotchety friends with mutual interests who keep running into each other in various Oxford pubs and murder scenes.

"Swan Song" starts out rather unpromisingly:

"There are few creatures more stupid than the average singer. It would appear that the fractional adjustment of larynx, glottis and sinuses required in the production of beautiful sounds must almost invariably be accompanied---so perverse are the habits of Providence---by the witlessness of a barnyard fowl."

I would have thought that the above statement applied to tenors and sopranos only (singing in such a high register seems to destroy their brain cells), but it is the bass in "Swan Song" who sets himself up for murder. Several members of "Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg" cast have good reasons for wishing Edwin Shorthouse dead, in spite of his voice and its drawing power.

Even his composer-brother has a motive for killing the bass, and after a meeting with him, Fen is also made to question the intelligence of composers: "As a general rule, composers aren't the brightest of mortals, except where music's concerned."

Since Crispin himself composed music, it might be better if the reader did not take his commentary on the intelligence of musicians too seriously!

One of my favorite characters from "The Moving Toyshop" shows up in "Swan Song"-the deaf and (according to Fen) senile Professor Wilkes who makes a habit of stealing Fen's whisky. He and Fen are always good for a round or two of acrimonious repartee whenever they meet.

A third dialogue element that threads merrily through the book is a crime writer's attempt to interview Fen about his most famous cases. Every time Fen clears his throat and begins, "The era of my greatest successes..." someone is bound to interrupt him.

We never do get to learn what Fen considers his greatest successes, but surely the outcome of "Swan Song" must be counted among them.

NOTE: "Swan Song" was also published under the title "Dead and Dumb."