I was completely shocked to find out that how much Philip Carey, a handicapped and introspective orphan, who longs for true love and the meaning of life was a portrait of myself. Maugham has written a book that is far deeper than any other great authors have ventured to go. One might fancy himself more aware of his existence if he reads a great deal, thinks of the human condition, longs for passion, rejects materialism, seeks pleasure in art and finds daily routine and common desires boring. But Maugham shows how one might just find that the true meaning of life does not come from great authors, philosophers and absolute idealism. In fact, Maugham (through Philip's eyes) sees beauty and a sense of power from meaninglessness of our lives (We are born, we live, and we die.) Maugham lays out peneratrating examination of poets, artists, philosophers, and religious figures blinded by their ideals as well as people we choose to be family, friends and lovers. Despite his violent urges to love and his insensentivity toward women who love him, Philip remains a very sympathetic figure who we try to understand because of his lonely life. Ultimately, he triumphs. By freeing himself from his 'ideas' of love and the meaning of life painted by great artists, writers and philosopher. He finally does something that is good for HIM. If you have to read one book in your entire life, let this be the one.

This was one of the finest novels I have read, though at times I had a love-hate relationship with it. Early on I became fed up with Philip's whining and bad choices. Him leaving school to go to Germany struck a chord with me, since I see a number of young college students wash out this way no matter what I or anyone else can do about it. People who downgrade this book because they disagree with Philip's choices and mental self-torture seem to be missing the point, and reflect a commonplace desire for fairytale stories which runs through American culture.

By the end of the book I had made my peace with Philip and allowed him to "live his life" as Maugham intended. Many of the hard lessons he learned serve as a useful object lesson for the reader. Besides this, we get an incredible array of characters reminiscent of Dicken's best work at no extra charge.

I take exception to reviewers who complained that the ending lacked weight. That was precisely the point: after all the grand dreams and ponderings on the meaning of life, settling down in a comfortable relationship in a seaside village is as good as anything else. The key line in the last pages: "It seemed to him that he had followed the ideals that other people, by their words or writings, had instilled into him, but never the desires of his own heart" is so dead-on for so many of us. That alone was worth the length of the book.

The closeness, detail and candor Maugham writes about Philip Carey is certainly reflective of something autobiographical. The book has had profound influence on me, especially in the true understanding of the nature of falling in love and being loved, the two of which rarely harmonize. No one in the novel is depicted as a hero or as a villain, and even though Mildred comes across as vain and shallow it is much of a reaction to Philip's unrequited love. The entire story is a kind of running example of the karma principle, you get what you give. Though I was a bit disappointed with the ending, after some reflection it dawned upon me that it was exactly what Maugham's theme was: unlike the austere path that Larry in "The Razor's Edge" decided to pursue, happiness can be achieved by acknowledging the simple desires of life.

There are books that everyone 'knows' but hardly anybody reads any more. Reading these classics can be quite illuminating; they are not what you think. For example, do you really know how Dracula was killed? Or why The Virginian said "Smile when you call me that"? Read the originals; you'll be surprised.

"Tarzan of the Apes", the first of 23 Tarzan adventures by Edgar Rice Burroughs, is full of surprises. The Tarzan of this book is not the Johnny Weissmuller or Ron Ely that you might know. He is not raised by gorillas (as I had thought) but by mythical 'anthropoids', a sort of missing link between man and gorilla, with rudimentary speech and a social structure that includes ritual and dance. This is a science fiction tale, a sort of "Lost World" meets "Jungle Book". Tarzan befriends and converses with (and kills and eats) a variety of beasts.

There are aspects of the story that modern readers will find as hard to swallow as some of Tarzan's raw meat dinners. For example, this jungle is populated with lions, hyenas and elephants, creatures that in reality never go near rain forests. We are also asked to believe that Tarzan teaches himself to read and write from books that he finds.

Many modern readers will also find the racialism difficult to take. He boasts of being "Tarzan, killer of beasts and many black men". Coming on a village deep in the jungle, he immediately readies his bow and poisoned arrows. When his European companion admonishes him that it is wrong to kill humans, the hero protests "But these are black men". (Correct me if I am wrong, but I don't believe that scene was included in the Disney version). This is a 1914 American novel, with all the prejudices intact.

It's quite well written; Burroughs is very readable. The plotting is a strange mixture of ingenuity and clumsiness. There is a very clever device that involves Jane thinking there are two ape-men, one an admirer, the other her rescuer. But the plot also requires three separate mutinies, two of which just happen to involve cousins, to take place off the same remote African beach. This is beyond coincidence.

So is this genre classic still worth reading? I think so, for the same reason "Dracula" and "The Virginian" are still worth reading; this is the book that started it all.

This is a great book for youngsters. It is a classic adventure story. Edgar Rice Burroughs wrote a great tale of adventure. I read this book in junior high school and then again in high school. I recently reread it again now in my thirties. It is still a compelling read. One grows to care for Tarzan of the Apes. The movies do not do it justice. The original is the best. A lot of the subsequent Tarzan novels do not measure up to this one. It is a bona fide classic of adventure fiction. It deserves a place next to works by Rider Haggard and Zane Grey. I find myself waxing nostalgic for youth gone by and Tarzan of the Apes is right there. A fun read at any age.

Listed in Cawthorn's and Moorcock's "Fantasy: The 100 Best Books".

The Weissmuller movies didn't get him right. The TV series haven't got him right. And the Disney movie CERTAINLY won't get him right. Burrough's original narration of the story of Tarzan is a mix of bloodthirsty savagery and unrestrained suspension of disbelief that few would attempt to capture these days.

The Tarzan series is unique among his author's body of work. Where the Barsoom, Pellucidar and Caspak series concern modern men travelling to exotic lands and falling in love with native women, this time around it is a modern woman who comes to the wilderness and steals the heart of the savage protagonist, who must now step up to her civilized ways.

The tale is laced with bloody scenes of man-against-man and man-against-beast rampage. The great apes among which Tarzan grows are a cannibal species, who eat the prisioners of raids against other simian clans. The king ape kills Tarzan's father in a moment where he is caught off guard, mourning the recent death of his wife. When Tarzan first encounters men (an African tribe), he hunts and kills one of them to steal his arrows (killing being the way of the jungle, since Tarzan knows nothing of human behavior). Also, these men turn out to be cannibals too. And when the white men finally arrive, they raid their village and kill almost every one in an attempt to rescue a captured comrade.

After growing wild among beasts, Tarzan (whose name menas White Skin) realizes that he is different from his ape family. And through a series of inventions of his own (like making a rope) and fortunate coincides (like the use of a found hunting knife), he steps up the evolutionary ladder by himself. The moment he learns to read and write from illustrated primers and a dictionary is among the most improbable in the whole book. But if we have kept up with it until now, allowing ourselves to accept that a human child can be raised by apes, then his ascension to superiority isn't that hard to embrace.

Tarzan turns out to be the primeveal lovesick nerd. After the first time he sees Jane Porter (the first white woman he ever casts his eyes on), his heart is all for her. He writes her a love letter, which smacks of the most pityful puppy love ("I want you. I am yours. You are mine... When you see this you will know that it is for you and that Tarzan of the Apes loves you"). Yet our hero is true and noble, and he holds the upper hand in his homeland. The girl can't do anything but be carried away by her primeveal pretender.

I recommend you get this edition I'm reviewing, the one by Penguin. Besides the introduction which gives a valuable background to the place of Tarzan among popular literature and some details on the life of Edgar Rice Burroughs, it contains a series of notes that signal where he took some liberties with his story's setting (like placing American plants in the African jungle).

The English is a little bit archaic, the characterization tends to cartoon and stereotype, but the story is powerful and nothing captures the beauty of the original like the original itself. Read Tarzan of the Apes, and meet again for the first time an archetypical hero of timeless charm.

Reading a book that is well-established as a classic offers both risks and rewards. The risk is that one's expectations might be too high, leading to disappointment. The reward is that the book matches expectations, leading to thorough satisfaction. Reading Kenneth Grahame's "The Wind in the Willows" is certainly rewarding, but also risky. It's unquestionably a classic, popularized in part by A.A. Milne's dramatization in 1929 under the name "Toad of Toad Hall." Quite honestly, expecting a child-like story, I found it on a higher level altogether, and perhaps even best appreciated by teens and older readers. It has a poetical lyrical quality that could discourage younger readers from completing it on their own.

But that aside, it's not hard to see why this book has stood the test of time. Especially the talking animal protagonists are outstanding. Shy and loyal Mole, clever and courageous Rat, gruff and gentlemanly Badger, and arrogant, adventurous and crazed Toad - the animal characters that populate Grahame's novel are thoroughly individual, real, and loveable, despite their individual quirks. They are distinctly animal-like, and yet aspects of their life (food - transport - clothing) are distinctly human, enabling us to identify with them quickly and easily and yet be charmed by their differences. Toad does ultimately repent from his conceited egotism "Henceforth I will be a very different Toad", although we cannot help get the feeling that this is not the first time he has embarked on a road of repentance only to be ambushed again by his old nature. All of this is portrayed with poetic lyricism, as well as warm sympathy and humour.

There is something here for everyone. When the friends aren't lazily floating down the river or indulging their appetites, they are worrying about Toad's latest escapades with motor-boats or automobiles. Readers will find themselves attracted to the rustic, quiet and cozy life of companionship on the river, or else the neverending action that ensues as Toad follows his selfish passions and gets himself into trouble and the climax as Toad and his friends seek to recapture Toad Hall from evil weasels, ferrets and stoats. While the final battle offers thrills, Toad's "education" is undoubtedly a good lesson for us all. Grahame's animal world offers much food for thought for humans in the real world. Visiting this fantasy world is not escapist, because it better equips us to live in the real world.

If there is any criticism, it might be that the novel does not work the aspects of introspection and adventure together cohesively and so does not always function well as a whole. The shift from pastoral introspection to madcap adventure and back is at times too great. But even if the snap-shots of "The Wind in the Willows" 's fantasy world are somewhat fragmented, in the end it's the characters of this world that make it so convincing and successful. With their successful combination of idyllic companionships and adventurous mishaps, Mole, Rat, Badger and Toad will continue to make new friends of readers in years to come. -GODLY GADFLY

When I was very young (about six thousand years ago), our school master used to read to us from Wind in the Willows. The stories had a magical quality and a few weeks ago, as a somewhat older person, I got to wondering whether they would still have that sense of enchantment that held us so captivated all those years ago.

I was NOT disappointed. Toad was just as cantankerous and difficult as ever. Badger, Rat and Mole were just as supportive - just as memorable. Badger is unpredictable but protective (and sometimes mean). Mole is timid and shy. Rat is courageous and romantic. And who could ever forget those dreadful gun-toting weasels, ferrets and stoats glorying in their take-over of Toad Hall? Wind in the Willows is a true masterpiece of allegory with endless moral lessons disguised as a children's story. It is also a lesson in things long-forgotten... the glory of floating noiselessly down a river at dawn, past loosestrife, willowherb, bulrushes and meadowsweet. How many of us have even heard of these meadow plants, never mind seen them. But it doesn't matter, because it evokes nostalgia either for things long-forgotten or for things never-known.

At a child's level, Wind in the Willows is about friendship and about life in an imagined world centered around the river. At a less innocent level, Wind in the Willows draws many parallels with life, though Kenneth Grahame managed to avoid preaching his lessons. Not the least of Graham's parables is that 'the bigger they are, the harder they fall' because Toad is as egotistical and as self-important as they come until being thrown in jail for 'borrowing' a car. After that, it's all downhill for Toad, and it is only thanks to the loyalty of his friends that he regains some of his position in society - though not before learning a little humility first.

Though, at an older age, we pretend to be more sophisticated, at heart we always hold out the hope of a return to innocence and simple adventures. We are still (most of us) perfectly capable of identifying with the animals and the idea, as one reviewer put it, of two school-aged hedgehogs frying ham for a mole and a water rat, in a badger's kitchen does my imagination no harm whatsoever! As for Grahame's choice of phrase (...the "remotest dungeon of the best-guarded keep of the stoutest castle in all the length and breadth of Merry England"...) it's almost as poetically attention-grabbing as Rowan Atkinson's Blackadder series.

If you're looking for laser guns and hi-tech wars, W-i-t-W is NOT the book to buy. If you're after something a little more gentle (and a little more intelligent) Wind in the Willows is an outstanding example of a Classic that continues to withstand the test of time.

While looking at my bookshelf for books, I picked up a book that seemed like new. I looked at the bottom of this book, it said, 'by Kenneth Grahame'. Above those letters were written the words, 'Illustrations-Helen Ward'. I examined the picture on the cover; it was vividly drawn, with colors ranging from birch white to algae green. The book was called The Wind in the Willows. When I flipped open the front cover I looked on the back of the title page. It wasn't like any of the other copyright and publishing pages I've seen. They were based on the edition I had. The edition I acquire is copyrighted 2000 by Templar Company plc, and published by Borders Press.

After flipping over the cover of this wonderful book, I started reading it. I found out that this astounding book is about the adventures of Mole and his friends. Mole, dwells in a small house in Wild Wood. He met many friends including the gentle Water Rat, the kind Badger, and the foolish but friendly Toad. The Badger hates society, and the Toad daydreams all day and his foolishness leads him to endless trouble yet Toady is still proud himself for everything he does. One day Toad was walking and his eyes caught a deserted car. He couldn't resist it, so he hopped in and took a ride. In time he got caught and sent to a jail in England. Eventually Toady escaped and returned to Wild Wood. There he found out that the weasels and stoats, the Wild Wooders, had taken over Toad Hall. The friends came up with a way to repossess Toad Hall. Thus one night when the Wild Wooders were having a grand feast, Toady, Ratty, Mole and Badger went through a secret passage past the guards and attacked the feasting stoats and weasels. After that battle Mole and his companions could finally live peacefully in Wild Wood.

There are plenty of high-quality chapters in this book but my favorite chapter is the last chapter, The Return of Ulysses, which is approximately 15 pages long.
It's the most exciting part of the book because it has the section where Mole and his friends defeat the Wild Wooders. I also like the ending of the chapter because it really sounds like what a mom would say to her kid in real life. The mother weasel tells the babies that if they don't behave, the terrible gray badger would get them.

Though there are many good parts, the part I hated was a chapter called the Wild Wood. It was all about the tedious subject of finding the hole of Mr. Badger. Half of the part was walking in the woods doing absolutely nothing! It also had a great deal of complex words, which made it kind of hard to understand. It was so boring; you could fall asleep just reading it! However, this is still a superior hardback.

Anyone who likes books with animal characters with human traits would thoroughly enjoy this book. The book has series of events that don't really fit in to the main problem but those events are what makes this book interesting. What made this book special to me is that each creature has a different personality. For example, there's the foolish Toad, the Badger that hates society, and Ratty who is obsessed with poems and river life. If this article interests you, why don't you try to read The Wind in the Willows yourself?

This book is my first Agatha Christie novel, and I must say that it lives fully up to its expectations. Christie weaves a beatiful tale of a murder that can keep anyone guessing. In fact the book had a lasting effect on me, as I kept replaying the events of the murder and the actions of other characters in my head even after I finished the book. It was that mezmerizing!

I truly loved the way in which suspicion was cast on almost every character in the book. I began to look rather cautiously at the characters for fear of mentally befriending the wrong person. Christie's magic was so good that I was even beginning to think that everyone ganged up together to murder the poor Mr. Ackroyd. I especially was attracted to the cute little Belgian detective, Hercule Poirot, who seems to possess a certain wizardry and deep intuition when it comes to mysteries and unearthing the truth.

The ending is indeed a surprise - as I understand is Christie's trademark. I only wish I read the book twice (both times up until the point of the revealing of the murderer) so as to make a good guess as to who the murderer really was. Oh well, perhaps I'll save that for the next Agatha Christie special.

The Murder of Roger Ackroyd is the book that made Agatha Chries famous,not just for its superb storytelling and plotting but for its unique and very surprising conclusion. I've read this book many,many times and I have never ceased to be amazed at Christie's inventiveness and skill. The conclusion is often criticized as being unfair but if you carefully read the book you can see that Christie lays all the pieces of the puzzle on the table for her readers. A great, great mystery and absolute required reading for any mystery fan.

Having to read this book for my Crime Stories class at my college, I knew that I should read it before it was assigned so as to actually enjoy it and not have the classic case of "assigned-book-equals-boring-book"-syndrome that too many students have to suffer. I read it about two weeks before it was assigned, and finished it today. Oh my god, that was amazing!

Written in a complex (not to mention dated) style, this book is narrated by one James Sheppard, a small-town doctor in Victorian England. He introduces us to the town and its characters (which, I might add, there are a LOT of), and the whole mystery itself. It also features the super detective Hercule Poirot, in his fourth adventure (yes, this is part of a series...fortunately it doesn't seem to involve any of the other books except through vague mentions).

As to the mystery, I won't get too into it, it involves the suicide and possible blackmail of a woman, a wealthy man's murder, and...okay, just read it and find out for yourself. It's just so interesting; it's a quick read, and once you put this book down...just...I can't begin to describe it. Let's just say that I could not believe how everything turned out in the end. Read it, and I hope you enjoy it as much.

Laura Fairly is the innocent, the young, sheltered, Victorian maiden who abides by her departed father's wishes. On his deathbed, he bids her to marry Sir Percival Glyde. Enter villainy. The grasping, frightened, short-tempered Sir Percival insists on a speedy wedding. He handily dispatches any obstacles thrown up in his path; he is damned and determined to wed Laura--and her fortune. But Laura has a sister, Marian, a strong-willed, independent, fiercely loyal sister who at first champions the marriage and then recoils once she realizes the true nature of Sir Percival. The man is a monster. And Marian will do anything to protect her sister. Heroism, and then some. There is also another, a drawing master named Walter Hartright, commissioned to teach Laura and Marian the fine art of watercolors. He falls in love with Laura, and she with him--before her marriage to Sir Percival. The drama should be obvious.

But what of the title? Who is the Woman in White? Her chance meeting with Walter Hartright on the road to London provides the catalyst upon which the entire narrative turns. She is at once and both the key and the puzzle. She is a victim. She is a harbinger. She scares Sir Percival out of his wits.

This book offers vivid portrayals of Victorian England, its mannerisms, its wardrobe, its inhibitions, its attitude. This book eerily reflects our own time, our own angst, in the 21st century. Once you read it, you'll know what I mean. Deception has no age.

P.S. Whatever you do, don't turn your back on Count Fosco!

Laura Fairly is the innocent, the young, sheltered, Victorian maiden who abides by her departed father's wishes. On his deathbed, he bids her to marry Sir Percival Glyde. Enter villainy. The grasping, frightened, short-tempered Sir Percival insists on a speedy wedding. He handily dispatches any obstacles thrown up in his path; he is damned and determined to wed Laura--and her fortune. But Laura has a sister, Marian, a strong-willed, independent, fiercely loyal sister who at first champions the marriage and then recoils once she realizes the true nature of Sir Percival. The man is a monster. And Marian will do anything to protect her sister. Heroism, and then some. There is also another, a drawing master named Walter Hartright, commissioned to teach Laura and Marian the fine art of watercolors. He falls in love with Laura, and she with him--before her marriage to Sir Percival. The drama should be obvious.

But what of the title? Who is the Woman in White? Her chance meeting with Walter Hartright on the road to London provides the catalyst upon which the entire narrative turns. She is at once and both the key and the puzzle. She is a victim. She is a harbinger. She scares Sir Percival out of his wits.

This book offers vivid portrayals of Victorian England, its mannerisms, its wardrobe, its inhibitions, its attitude. This book eerily reflects our own time, our own angst, in the 21st century. Once you read it, you'll know what I mean. Deception has no age.

P.S. Whatever you do, don't turn your back on Count Fosco!

Laura Fairly is the innocent, the young, sheltered, Victorian maiden who abides by her departed father's wishes. On his deathbed, he bids her to marry Sir Percival Glyde. Enter villainy. The grasping, frightened, short-tempered Sir Percival insists on a speedy wedding. He handily dispatches any obstacles thrown up in his path; he is damned and determined to wed Laura--and her fortune. But Laura has a sister, Marian, a strong-willed, independent, fiercely loyal sister who at first champions the marriage and then recoils once she realizes the true nature of Sir Percival. The man is a monster. And Marian will do anything to protect her sister. Heroism, and then some. There is also another, a drawing master named Walter Hartright, commissioned to teach Laura and Marian the fine art of watercolors. He falls in love with Laura, and she with him--before her marriage to Sir Percival. The drama should be obvious.

But what of the title? Who is the Woman in White? Her chance meeting with Walter Hartright on the road to London provides the catalyst upon which the entire narrative turns. She is at once and both the key and the puzzle. She is a victim. She is a harbinger. She scares Sir Percival out of his wits.

This book offers vivid portrayals of Victorian England, its mannerisms, its wardrobe, its inhibitions, its attitude. This book eerily reflects our own time, our own angst, in the 21st century. Once you read it, you'll know what I mean. Deception has no age.

P.S. Whatever you do, don't turn your back on Count Fosco!

I must admit I cheated and saw the movie before I read this book. I've had the novel for so long, but never got around to it. The film was stunning and I was sobbing at the end. Now after the reading the book - I am pleased to say the film follows the book closely and Gillian Anderson really captures the moral complexities of Lily Bart. I love how Wharton was able to find the hypocrisy in nineteenth century high society. Not only did she expose its follies, she also unveiled its fragility. Lily could have easily maneuvered her way out of nearing poverty, but she possesses a kind of morality that her privileged, back-stabbing friends do not. It is only by turning their backs on the truth do her peers hold up their shameful facade. I do find it disturbing that Lily believes her only way out is death...that she has nothing else to offer the world. Wharton uses this tactic, though, to symbolically represent the rich snubbing the poor - how they exist without even seeing them.

However, the most intriguing part about this novel is Lily's relationship with Seldon. In the beginning, he seems to always remind her of her vain attempts at marrying rich men. She can't go through with her designs, though. He strings her along, all the while he's having this under-handed liason with one of the most pretentious women of their social circle. Lily never gets to tell him how much she really loves him. Her pride reverts to bravery as she realizes she must face her future without his companionship. Does she die for an empty purse or a broken heart? I choose the latter.

I stumbled upon a review of the recent film of THE HOUSE OF MIRTH in the TLS and, in order to have the novel firmly fixed in my mind (that is, before the lush, seductive images of film forever eradicated Wharton's novel from me) I dragged my copy off the shelf for a re-read. It had been 16 years since I last read of Lily Bart and her life, and I didn't realize how much I had missed her. For me, this is one of the great reading experiences, one of a handful that make reading a book the deeply moving and human exchange that it is. Despite the distance of wealth, property, time and manners, Wharton manages to make Lily's world and life palpable to anyone who will listen. The clash of money, morals, personality and circumstance is infinitely developed and played out in front of a never fading natural world. Once again, I was deeply moved by Lily Bart and at the end, felt I had lost someone myself.

High school students are often assigned Ethan Frome, and the Age of Innocence gained many readers because of the movie, but this is the Edith Wharton book that everyone should read. In many ways, this is similar to a Jane Austen book in which a member of the upper echelon of society has money problems and needs to marry well in order to stay at the same level of society. Forces and other people are contriving against her, but there seems to be at least one man who would be a good match for reasons of love. The first twist here is that the good match is not financially well off and therefore won't be able to support the heroine as she wants to be supported.

Lily Bart was orphaned many years ago, and her family had been financially ruined before that. However, she is accustomed to beautiful things and wants to continue to live at the top level of society. Unfortunately, her heart and soul long for more than these creature comforts. She yearns for excitement, intellectual and emotional honesty and probably true love, although she is confused about that. As she has gotten towards her late 20s, her prospects are dwindling and the only person who has the resources to support her and is already a part of polite society is Percy Gryce, a singularly boring man.

Lily rebels against Gryce just as she is about to marry him when she has a couple of heartfelt conversations with Lawrence Selden, a person she decides she might love, but who makes clear that he is not rich enough to support her as well as she should be supported.

Her choices other than Gryce are slim. There is Simon Rosedale, who is portrayed as an upwardly mobile person and therefore undesirable. He is also Jewish, which Wharton never overtly says is a problem with him for Lily, but probably figures into Lily's calculus (Wharton mainly talks about his Jewishness in the context of saying that Rosedale is more patient and able to face disappointment than others in his position because of what his people have dealt with over the centuries).

I have to admit that, unlike Ethan Frome and The Age of Innocence, it took me a while to get into this book. Perhaps, I picked up this book to read a story of Old New York and manners and was not ready for such an intense character study. But once I got to page 100, the last 250 pages went by in a flash. It is beautiful and eminently interesting. You will be interested in every twist in the story.

A couple of words of caution. If you buy this edition with the Anna Quindlen introduction, DON'T READ THE INTRODUCTION FIRST. It gives away too much in the first page--when I stopped reading it until after I finished--and the rest of the introduction gives away the rest of the plot. Finally, as with Jane Austen books, the actions of the male characters are often either inscrutable or irrational. It may be that men actually acted like this in the early 20th Century (or 19th for Austen). But I think it more likely that Wharton is misconstruing the male characters in ways that male authors almost always do with female characters. But this is a minor flaw, especially since Lily is so central to this book.

A Room with a View is what a romantic novel should be: light and fun, entertaining and sweet- I thoroughly enjoyed reading it! Especially touching was old Mr. Emerson's conversation with Lucy towards the end. And none of the reviewers mentioned the subtle humor in this book! This book was funny! As for those of you who gave this wonderful book a poor review you must be young and/or you are an avid reader of literary geniuses such as Danielle Steele. Watch some more TV you people and stay aware from criticising great books you did not understand!

I have long been a fan of Jane Austen and have become so spoiled by her wonderful writing and complex yet perfect sentences that I seldom find anything enjoyable by comparison. However, "A Room with a View" was one of the most wonderful non-Austen books I have ever read. I laughed out loud many times at the way Forster worded things, especially the chapter titles (eg. "How Ms. Bartlett's Boiler was so Tiresome"). At the beginning, he seemed to be making fun of his characters - at their simple-mindedness and lack of depth - but then he commenced to transform them (mainly Lucy) and make them into wonderfully admirable people. It seemed that justice was served to Cecil when he served as the means through which Lucy and George were finally united. I enjoyed every minute of this book but would recommend it only to those who would appreciate it and who would be reading it by choice.

This book is still a classic. The fact that this book can still be entertaining nearly a hundred years after it's conception is testament enough to it's quality. It's the story of Lucy, struggling to find a comfortable place in adulthood, struggling to understand herself, struggling with the jarring influences of the unhappy people that surround her. And then she meets Mr. Emerson and his son George. Mr. Emerson is an old man who is disliked among the society folk because his kindness is more genuine than tactful. And his son George, raised free of all the prejudices and narrow-mindedness that plague nearly all the people he meets, is depressed because the universe doesn't seem to fit.

Learning to love a pair like the Emersons would seem to be easy for Lucy, but that is the struggle of this whole novel, how she creates such a muddle out of a simple thing and ends up, for the first time in her life, to begin to see clearly.

Forster finds a nice balance in this novel - engaging plot, unique and well-developed characters, and a fair dose of philosophy to lighten the burdens of your mind (all good philosophy should lighten your mind instead of weighing it down).

I would recommend this book on the simple fact that Mr. Emerson is, in many of his traits, the type of human being we should all strive to become(good-hearted, thought-provoking, devoted to expanding his mind instead of narrowing it, welcoming to all, poetic and deep). That alone recommends it. This may not be Forster's best, but it's one of them, and is more than worth the time (I finished it in three days, awfully fast, hungry for more when it was done).

One of the reasons why Sister Carrie is worth reading has to do with the ending. If you've read any of these famous home-wrecking novels, where a young beautiful girl gets involved with an older man, and wondered if suicide always had to be the answer, here's your book. But surprisingly, the ending makes you sort of long for the good old suicide ending. Sister Carrie isn't bad, but a lot of the insights into human nature and society are expressed in the language of a talk-show self-help psychiatrist rather than a great author. There are better versions of this formula (Updike, Tolstoy, Wharton, Austen) but there is still something in Sister Carrie that makes it worth reading. Despite its title, the better character depiction in the book belongs to the lover rather than the heroine of the title. Like Updike, Dreiser makes you feel for the plight of the upper-middle class white man. And I mean that seriously, with no sarcasm.

Theodore Dreiser's "Sister Carrie" is a complex novel of linear events. It is a study in cause and effect -- how a character's environment, or change of environment, affects his or her values, especially with regard to money and the iniquity it brings.

18-year-old Caroline "Carrie" Meeber, bored with her life in a small Wisconsin town, comes to Chicago in 1889 to live with her sister Minnie. The only employment she can get is a laborious, low-paying job in a shoe factory, and when she loses it and wears out her welcome with her sister's family, a well-to-do young man named Charles Drouet, whom she met on the train to Chicago, sets her up in an apartment where they pretend to be married.

Drouet has a friend named George Hurstwood, a man in his late thirties and the manager at a local upscale bar. Hurstwood's home life is stagnant and empty; he has a self-centered wife whom he ceased loving long ago and two materialistic children around Carrie's age. He is going through what many decades later would be called a midlife crisis.

Through Drouet, Hurstwood meets Carrie and they form a mutual attraction. Unlike Drouet, to whom life is all about social status, Hurstwood does not patronize Carrie; he makes her feel intelligent and important, and Carrie exhibits Hurstwood's ideals of youth and beauty. When Hurstwood's wife gets wise to her husband's affair and sues him for divorce, Hurstwood succumbs to the temptation to steal money from his employer and tricks Carrie into leaving Chicago with him. They go to New York and experience curious reversals of fortune -- Carrie becomes a rich and famous showgirl while Hurstwood drifts into inescapable poverty and a bitter end.

This is no Cinderella story for Carrie. It may seem like she is being rewarded for her innocence and integrity, but since she realizes that her success is more the result of luck than talent, her new life is not as fulfilling as she thought it might be. I found myself surprisingly engaged by the story because Dreiser presents his characters as real people with unsolvable problems and doesn't try to teach a morality lesson. I finished the novel feeling miserable about the world, which is not something that many novels can do to me. My only complaint is that Dreiser's prose is a little awkward and excessively wordy without the benefit of clarity; it longs for the smoother touch of D.H. Lawrence or Somerset Maugham.

Living an average middle-class life, I have always wondered how the very rich and the very poor get where they are. Sister Carrie is a beautifully written and fascinating tale of how one climbs and descends the social ladder of life. I am aware that some readers have criticized this book stating that Dreiser did not develop the characters very well and that Carrie was not very likeable. Well, it is my thought that Dreiser never intended for us to become solely wrapped within the characters. He meant for us to become enveloped in the circumstance. The two main characters, Carrie and Hurstwood, are truly victims of circumstance - Carrie's never-ending unhappiness and Hurstwood's downward spiral. As we go through life, there are so many events and choices that will guide our lives to what they are. When one stops and thinks about this, it is really quite fascinating. I believe Dreiser r was aware of this aspect of life and he wanted to write a novel that would effect the lives of everyone who reads it. I read the entire book in 3 days. I simply could not put it down. I recommend Sister Carrie to everyone. It will leave you thinking and thinking and thinking.

Basically this is the story of a cub, half dog and half wolf that grows up in the wild eventually gets adjusted to civilization. Someone who likes reading about animals, is more likely to enjoy this novel quite a lot. London lets the White Fang think, lets him make an emotionla learning process (from hatred to love of man) and makes him thus almost become a human being. The book is easy to read, it has quite a simple vocabulary. I guess it seems to be more a story for kids than for adults. I still enjoyed reading the book quite a lot

For a few years, "Call of The Wild" was my favorite book. It's still one of my favorites, and now I finally read "White Fang," which is the book that many people have compared to "Call of The Wild." Both of those classics were wrote by the same great author, Jack London.

"White Fang" isn't as much like "Call of The Wild" as you might think it is. "White Fang" is a classic story of a wolf who was born part dog/part wolf, but who's wild instincts (the wolf side), far outshine the dog instincts. However, life in the wild is tough and White Fang has to learn the ways of humans. Will White Fang ever grow fond of humans, or will he remain a wild creature who only knows vengeance? I recommend getting this book and reading it to find out, and trust me, it's well worth it if you like classic books that are well written.

If you like "White Fang" after you read it, I would recommend also getting "Call of The Wild." I can't really say which one of the two is my favorite because they're both GREAT books!

Masterfully done, White Fang is ultimately a story of love. The cruelty and hardship and bitterness of the Wild, bored into the very essence of a wolf-dog named White Fang, whose heart is turned cold as stone by the cruel hand of man and of the Wild. A killer, more wolf than dog; even his own kind turned against him. His mother taken away before his very eyes when he was only a puppy; reunited years later, even she does not recognize him and turns her back on him, as have all of his kind, growling and snarling at him; the enemy of his kind. Hatred towards every living thing posesses him, until he does not even remember what love is.

It is not until a man named Weedon Scott appears, and saves White Fang from certain death, that White Fang's life is changed. Scott is the opposite of all that he had come to know in life, and very, very gradually, White Fang comes to know love, for the very first time.

This story stays as one of my favorite, and the best, pieces of literature of all time, and anyone who has not read it is sincerely missing out. White Fang, is definately, Jack London at his best.

If you are looking for tragedy and a dark bloody drama then I recommend Macbeth with no reservations whatsoever. On a scale of 1-5, I fell this book deserves a 4.5. Written by the greatest literary figure of all time, Shakespeare mesmorizes the reader with suspense and irony. The Scottish Thane Macbeth is approachd by three witches who attempt and succeed at paying with his head. They tell him he will become king, which he does, alog with the aide of his ambitious wife. Macbeth's honor and integrity is destroyed with the deceit and murders he commits. As the novel progresses, Macbeth's conscience tortures him and makes him weak minded. Clearly the saying "what goes around comes around," is put to use since Macbeth's doom was similar to how he acquired his status of kingship. He kills Duncan, the king of Scottland and chops the head off the Thane of Cawdor, therefore the Thane of Fife, Macduff, does the same thing to him. I feel anyone who decides to read this extraordinary book will not be disatisfied and find himself to become an audience to Shakespearean tragedies.

Noble Macbeth and the story of his decay due to the seduction of the forces of darkness - I liked it. The play sets off with an impressing scene, the chant of the three witches, a perfect use of language, I dare say. It takes only about a page and I knew it by memory after two times reading. We used to quote it during the breaks, and actually still do so sometimes. "When shall we three meet again...and so forth. After this promising start the language gets quite hard (I'm not any native form Enland, the US or any other english speaking part of this planet). One can follow the action though and every five or six pages there's a reward for your patience, at least for anybody who likes the power Shakespeare's language is able to display in their good or best moments: "Have we eaten on the insane root?" and the likes. Of course there's also the famous "It is a tale, told by an idiot...". It's for these moments, where Williams knew how to transfere a feeling of one of his caracteres into the realm of a universal significance, that I enjoyed the play...

Shakespeare's shortest and bloodiest tragedy, MACBETH is also possibly the most serious. Macbeth is a warrior who has just had his greatest victory, but his own "vaulting ambition," the spectral promises of the three weird sisters, and the spurring on of his wife drive him to a treason and miserable destruction for which he himself is completely responsible. The ominous imagery of the fog that hovers over the first scene of the play symbolizes the entire setting of the play. Shakespeare's repeated contrasts of such concepts as fair and foul, light and darkness, bravery and cowardice, cut us to the quick at every turn. MACBETH forces us to question "what is natural?" "what is honor?" and "Is life really 'a tale/ Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury/ Signifying nothing?'" Few plays have ever illustrated the torments of Guilt (especially how it deprives one of Sleep) so vividly and stirringly.

I have read this play curiously as a child, excitedly as a teenager, passionately as a college student, and lovingly as a graduate student and adult. Like all of Shakespeare's writing, it is still as fresh, and foreboding, and marvelous as ever. As a play it is first meant to be heard (cf. Hamlet says "we shall hear a play"), secondarily to be seen (which it must be), but, ah, the rich rewards of reading it at one's own pace are hard to surpass. Shakespeare is far more than just an entertainer: he is the supreme artist of the English language. The Arden edition of MACBETH is an excellent scholarly presentation, offering a bounty of helpful notes and information for both the serious and casual reader.