Deborah Hopkinson's story assumes young readers already know about what slavery meant in the United States in the years before the Civil War. The focus on "Sweet Clara and the Freedom Quilt" is on the inventiveness and courage of a young girl in helping her people wind their way to freedom. What I like best about James Ransome's paintings are the evocative looks he always captures on Sweet Clara's face, which help tell the story as much as Hopkinson's words. This is an excellent book for young students to learn more about the Underground Railroad and the quest for freedom.

According to Villas, "the Southern day begins with a hearty breakfast" such as Ham with Red-Eye gravy, fresh country sausage, crusty Green Tomatoes, and Real Grits (recipes for each are found within, of course). Villas's Mother, Martha Pearl, has combined backgrounds from the Greek and Swedish heritage both families share and adds her own special Southern touch to create fabulous luncheons for bridge clubs, church bazzares and charity get-togethers. My favorite is a lovely recipe for Lemon Tea Bread- light and rich all at once, it's a perfect bread for a light tea, or, as I often do, to bring to a get together when a dessert is requested (never fails to draw "oooh's" and "ahhh's"). From her homemade Macaroni and Cheese to an impressive recipe for Shrimp Bisque, you'll find this cookbook is a great investment. I love the way Martha Pearl watches all her family members, her children included, as they embark on trial recipes of their own- she then adopts these recipes herself, but adds her own little touch (Villas lovingly included Martha's recipe cards and notes- such a personal touch!). Still, she always gives credit to whom it is due. The hallmark of a truly great cook!

These are not recipes, however, that one can consume on a regular basis. Almost every recipe calls for either butter, cheese, heavy cream, lard, bacon and/or bacon grease, sausage, etc. Some recipes are lighter than others, but believe you me, these 'aint "low-fat recipes", and that's just fine with me, baby. I'd rather eat the hard-core real stuff in a limited manner than gorge myself on tasteless, fun-free low fat foods (ugh, ugh, ugh). If truly great food is a party for all five of the senses, "My Mother's Southern Kitchen" is your ultimate party guide. Forget the usual shee-shee-poo-poo ingredients fancy-schmancy recipes call for (you probably can't locate in your supermarket anyway)- this is where taste sensation begins!

This is one of those books which has become inseparable from its better known movie version--it's probably impossible to read the story without picturing Humphrey Bogart and Walter Huston. As anyone whose ever seen the movie (which hopefully means everyone) will know, Dobbs is a down-at-the-heels American looking for work in the Mexican oil fields. He and Curtin, another roustabout, have idle dreams of getting rich quick, but it's not until they join up with the aged gold prospector Howard that they actually head into the Sierra Madre mountain range to find their fortune. It is Howard who enunciates Traven's political message and forecasts the plot of the tale :

[G]old is a very devilish sort of thing, believe me, boys. In the first place, it changes your character entirely. When you have it your soul is no longer the same as it was before. No getting away from that. You may have so much piled up that you can't carry it away; but, bet your blessed paradise, the more you have, the more you want to add, to make it just that much more. Like sitting at roulette. Just one more turn. So it goes on and on and on. You cease to distinguish between right and wrong. You can no longer see clearly what is good and what is bad. You lose your judgment. That's what it is.

Perhaps this too argues for Traven's Germanic origins, for sure enough, they do find gold, and within short order the men are acting like creatures out of the Brothers Grimm or the Ring of the Nibelungen, with predictably horrific and tragic results.

Traven's point here, though grounded in everything from Genesis to Teutonic myth to Marxism, is ridiculously utopian. It is not gold (or materialism generally) that makes men act like animals; filthy lucre is merely one more thing to fight over; but food, land, mates, beliefs, skin color, language, etc., serve equally well to make men lose their judgment. In this sense, the novel is horribly dated, obviously a product of a time before we'd seen just how evil socialism would turn out and the degree to which right and wrong would cease to be distinguishable to the practitioners of the anti-materialist ethos.

On the other hand, the awesome power which Traven confers upon gold, to corrupt the human soul, and the harkening back to ancient myth, somehow serve to give the novel a quality of timelessness. Read simply as a meditation on greed, it's hard to see how Traven's core message could ever be out of date. There's a whole lot of Dobbs in all of us; let's try to avoid his fate, eh?

GRADE : B+

Well, I'm no anarchist and you don't have to be either to enjoy this masterpiece. That, by the way, is true about all of Traven's works.

When they do find some gold, it gradually begins to corrupt them like some cursed treasure from myth. Even though the old prospector warns the two younger men at length of what gold can do to men's minds, paranoia and obsession slowly infiltrate the men's heads. While the men's encounter with bandits is one of film's most famous moments ("Badges? We ain't got no badges! We don't need no badges!"), many other predators lurk in the dusty Mexican landscape. Traven's familiarity with the area is one of the elements that makes the book so strong, as he is able to capture the textures and smells of the mountains and bring them to life. As the story plays out, Traven seems to reveal a strong belief in karma or cosmic justice of sorts and in the end, only the indigenous Huichol Indians emerge as wholly admirable people.

This small volume is a treasure. In hardcover, the pages are silver, the dark blue typography is a beautiful old-style Roman, perhaps Garamond or Times, good-sized and leaded out for easy readability. And the illustrations are unsurpassed.

First, the illustrator: Gustave Dore was born in 1832, sixty years after the birth of Coleridge. He died in 1883. Coleridge preceded him in death by 49 years. Coleridge was born in 1772 and died in 1834. Dore was born in Strasbourg, and was a renowned illustrator who was doing lithographs at the age of thirteen.

The fact that Dore was a near contemporary of Coleridge is important because we can be assured that the characters' costumes in his illustrations reflect the actual dress of the time Coleridge was describing. The ships also are correctly drawn and beautifully detailed.

To say that his illustrations complement this classic epic poem is an understatement.

As to the poet, some wag said once of The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, that "a half-great poet had a wholly great day." I have also heard that Coleridge is supposed to have written his epic in one sitting, in a great burst of inspiration. I can't vouch for that, but it is truly a masterpiece--of that there can be no doubt.

I recall trying to memorize it when I was in high school, about sixty years ago. I loved it then, and I still do now.

For the price, this book is an absolute steal. No library is complete without this poem, and of all the renditions I've seen of it, this is by far the most beautiful.

On the surface, this may just seem to be a simple poem by an English Romantic. But there is so much more. There is a lesson to be learned, one of respect for God's creatures and for all of creation. This is certainly a Romantic point of view, and Coleridge puts it forth very nicely in this poem.

This is a great beginning poem for novices of poetry, for beginners and for people who dislike poetry if it doesn't rhyme and have a definite rhythm. This is definitely Coleridge's best poem, one that everyone should be familiar with. This version with the woodcuts makes for a very attractive package--the illustrations add nicely to the poems overall effect.