George King has written a fast-paced, readable novel which has to touch the hearts of all growing up in the fifties. He has shown a nice style and interwoven enough mystery to keep the reader interested in turning the pages. Mr. King has a keen sense of character and a fine grasp of words that lends a sense of realism as the story unfolds. I didn't put the book down until I finished it because I wanted to know what happened to all of the characters involved. Good job, Mr. King. Glad I had the opportunity to read your book. I have a sense of knowing you a bit, because I couldn't help but think as I was reading, that George King's memories were being revisited through Jim. Am I right?

Mr. King is a transporter. He not only carried me back to the era of the 50's, but also placed me in the heart of the Panamanian jungle. I would even have enjoyed more description of this setting, though the book is certainly long enough at 428 pages. I was pleased by the amount of humor worked into the adventures of the main character, especially an episode where a sloth gets loose during a church service. The plot is a real page-turner, with all the characters' stories weaving together in the climax. The prologue and the epilogue added a touching note, as I was able to learn what happened to the main characters later in their lives. A terrific, quick read!

This is a fascinating book that has a lot of detail in it, and my only criticism of this book is that it gets somewhat detailed due to so many people being discussed, but it is very well written, and I enjoyed it very much; I wish to thank Combined Books for re-printing the book in 1996. History books like this enrich my life, and this book comes close to a five star review: it is higher than 4 stars, but I could not state that in the rating.

King's book deals with the performance of Arthur Conan Doyle's short play "A Story of Waterloo" by eminent Victorian actor Henry Irving and a devastating review of this production written by George Bernard Shaw in 1895. The play is about an old and feeble soldier who has played a heroic role at Waterloo and pathetically dies while reliving his finest hour, thereby bringing the house down (in the theatre, that is). King uses this intersection of two remarkable theatrical careers to consider the Victorians' retrospective glance at the Napoleontic wars, the nature of Irving's performance, which by modern standards would be inconceivably sentimental, Irving's relation to his audience, Shaw's development as a critic and playwright, Irving's leading lady Ellen Terry and her son, the theatre director, designer and Irving acolyte Edward Gordon Craig. An instructive and entertaining read for anyone with a broad interest in the theatre and (cultural) history. Highly accessible, but marred by some unnecessary excursions into academic obscurities that the opening chapters had led me to believe were going to be avoided. Still, fascinating stuff.

There must be thousands of books on how to be rich. I don't think it's easy to find one on how to be poor. George Mikes (pronunced [mikish]) Set out to write one and the result was this hilarious yet serious and philosophical essay. In a world where being rich seems highly desirable George Mikes analises the draw backs and miseries of this condition. Any rich man fep up with having so much money and wanting to become poor, could read this book. A lovely book indeed with a lot of wisdom in it.

One of the very few publications for this very rare condition. I found it useful but very technical and granular. I had to force myself through the more technical sections, but found enough useful to assist in helping a friend. I certainly encourage readers to obtain this reference book even though it is pricey and tough reading. It is one of the very few tittles on the subject. My health care contacts at Stanford Medical, and Queens Hospital in Hawaii found it useful. One thing there is not. There is no cure, and no recognized treatment prescribed. I look forward to that day.

Kenneth Rose is an excellent scholar and this book is about scholarship--debunking the myths and telling the straight story about King George V and the politicians with whom he dealth. My only wish is that I could know more about George V the man, but this is the same objection that I've had of all scholarly biographers of Kings.

I once read that, in addition to his unfortunate condition of porphyria, the mental effects of which became the basis for this screenplay, King George also had an anal fistula. Perhaps this explains his dyspeptic attitude toward the American colonies, since we were such a pain in the a__, and he already, as a result of the fistula, had plenty of them.

I also learned once that the French King, Louis XIV, used to hold court with his advisors and other notables while receiving his daily enema, thereby making him sort of a public "enema of the people." No wonder the French monarchy had so many problems.

It's amazing how much of history seems to relate to the proctological vagaries of its rulers. In George III's case, because of his unfortunate anal fistula, one could say it perhaps ultimately came down to a problem with the bottom of the man at the top.

A study of family genealogy often explains the present-or in this case, the past.

In late 1700s George, Prince of Wales, was every bit the scandalous Prince Charming, the lover of older, married women that his great-great-great nephew, the Duke of Windsor, was. George, who later became King George IV, even tossed over his mistress, Maria (Perdita) Robinson, in the same manner that the Duke of Windsor got rid of one of his mistresses. He wrote her a letter and refused to take her calls.

In both cases, the princes had a morally upright, dull father who never cheated on his wife. Filial rebellion and serial adultery are long-standing traditions in the British royal family.

In this book Jean Plaidy highlights the life of Perdita Robinson, George IV's first serious fling in a life full of flings. In it, she tells a lot about the character of George IV and sets the stage for "The Sweet Lass of Richmond" and "Indiscretions of the Queen."

Plaidy does us all a service by writing easy to read, entertaining novels about the British monarchy.

Actually, in "The Story of King Midas," Pamela Espeland tells both of the classical tales associated with this particular mythological figure. In fact, unlike her other books in this series, there are two chapters. The first tells the story we know as King Midas and the Golden Touch while the second tells of when he gave his opinion regarding a music contest between Apollo and Pan. For Espeland both of these stories prove that King Midas's biggest problem was that he would always talk without thinking. These tales are told for their comic effect, so King Midas does not make the mistake of touching his beloved daughter, an element that certainly makes the myth more tragic. Illustrated with pen drawings by George Overlie, this book is one of a series about myths written by Espeland and published by Carolrhoda Books in Minneapolis. Each is introduced with a short background about the story and Greek culture. These books work as fine as intermediate examples of these classic myths for young readers who are not yet ready to read Ovid or even Hamilton or Bullfinch.

Jean Plaidy (Victoria Holt) does a service to readers that writers of historical biographies seem unable to do. She tells a good story and makes the people seem real. Biographies of royalty tend to be stilted, heavily burdened with the intricacies of politics and remote from the person and character of the royal. They are not fun to read. Plaidy's novels are fairly close to historical fact without being tediously so.

The Sweet Lass of Richmond not only is fun to read, it brings to mind an interesting parallel between George IV and his great-great-great nephew, The Duke of Windsor. Both men were the brilliant centers of fashionable society, on bad terms with their fathers, and both fell heedlessly in love with unacceptable, older women. Where Wallis Simpson was a twice-divorced woman, Maria Fitzherbert was a twice-widowed woman. Where Wallis did not mind welcoming her prince into her bedchamber outside of marriage, devotely Catholic Maria Fitzherbert would have nothing less than marriage before she'd consent to give in to her prince. This drove George IV into a secret marriage, a device that allowed him to keep his place in the succession while enjoying the marital favors of the woman he loved. Had this marriage been open, he not only would have been at odds with his father for marrying without the King's consent, he would be barred from the succession for marrying a Catholic. George IV wanted Maria, his crown and his debts paid. George ended up choosing money and the Crown over Maria, his good wife--a choice he regretted for the rest of his life.