No comments about The Magus of Freemasonry: The Mysterious Life of Elias Ashmole--Scientist, Alchemist, and Founder of the Royal Society.

5 comments about Granuaile: Ireland's Pirate Queen C. 1530-1603.

1. I'm an O'Malley, so you can bet I was looking forward to this book. However, with all due respect to the author, at least in the early going, this book contains some anti-Christian, radical feminist claims that put into question the integrity of the rest of it. For instance, on page 17-18 (paperback edition) the author states: "The writings of the early Christian saints, such as Paul, John, Ambrose, Jerome and Augustine, reflected the degraded position of women in Roman society. Augustine wrote of the 'horrible beastliness of women'..."
   
   Not surprisingly, the author can not substantiate this claim and therefore does not give reference to the original source documents in her endnotes as she does with other claims. Don't get me wrong, there is no doubt that the period in which Granuaile lived was male dominated, and at times, shamefully so. However, that doesn't give an author a license to try to right any injustices by yet another injustice.
   
   It's a shame that the apparent good intentions of this author were laid waste by her seeming desire to bash males and Christianity. A biographer should, at the very least, seek, know and uphold the truth, and then tell the good, the bad and the ugly in an even handed way. This isn't too much to ask.



2. This book was excellently written. To the person who said the anti-christian statements were not true- Let me guess? Your a christian right. Thats the problem with christians, they still deny the truth no matter what. Christianity has always been a man's religion and its the most degrading religion to women and womens rights that has ever existed. I'm glad this author had the guts to be more unique and unconventional to tell the TRUTH. Sorry Christians. I know you never appreciate that.



3. It's my fault really but this book is just not what I was looking for and I could not get through it.



4. Anne Chambers' book provides a fascinating and inspiring glimpse into the life of an extraordinary Irish woman. Ms Chambers does an excellent job painting a picture of life in Ireland during the 16th century and the role of women in Ireland through the ages. Anyone traveling to Ireland or interesting in Irish history and the role of women in Irish society will benefit from reading this biography.



5. Anne Chambers is the authority on Granuaile O'Malley, and she has written the definitive scholarly work in this biography on her.

5 comments about Rome: The Biography of a City.

1. I planned to visit Rome and was told Mr Hibbert's book was better than any travel guide. I was worried it would be a boring, textbook read. To my surprise, I was absolutely engrossed from cover to cover. The endnotes were a bit too inclusive for my taste, but for a true historian, the information would be captivating. Mr. Hibbert's focus on numerous Vatican events is eye opening.



2. This is a good book for those interested in learning about general Rome History but not necessarily in reading thick textbooks. If you're interested in learning about specific periods/events (or the Roman Empire as a whole), you might want to look elsewhere. If you're interested in reading about a great city as a whole, this is a solid choice.



3. With a book that covers over 2,500 years of history, don't expect in-depth coverage here. That's not what this book is about. It provides a very good, bird's-eye view of the city and its history, however, and does a good job of impressing on the reader the incredible continuity of the city's history. I think there's a tendency to concentrate on ancient Rome and then to jump a thousand years to the Renaissance and the Baroque, without focusing on the incredible medieval history of the city. I found the chapters of the book devoted to the medieval period to be some of the more interesting.



4. In Self-Reliance, Emerson says, "In history our imagination plays us false. Kingdom and lordship, power and estate are gaudier vocabulary than private John and Edward in a small house and common day's work; but the things of life are the same to both; the sum total of both is the same," (130). This is a good place to begin articulating my discomfort with Hibbert's Rome: The Biography of a City. Halfway through the book one still has not seen any of Emerson's view that history is more than a succession of popes and kings. On the contrary, Hibbert seems to think that history is only that. It is an older book, and so we spare it some of our modern politics, but thus far, I've read nothing of women, nothing even of artists or architects in a city renowned for these, only that this king fought with this pope etc. through the centuries. I thought historians somehow knew better. One possible explanation for Hibbert's lack of attention to the actual soul of Rome is that he casts a broad net, writing so many histories he can hardly have time to do anything like justice to a place. He's written about France, Britain, America, and India, about their revolutions and separate books about their major figures, lending the impression that he may approach theses "biographies" like assembly-line machinery. One last neglect which seems to me not only in bad taste, but odd: Hibbert's Rome has been pretty overt in its dismissal of the Catholic Church. Nothing has been said about its many acts of charity, nor of its social/art educational status in the community, nor about the individual faiths of the saints and pilgrims, whose devotion, in the face of such obvious abuses, I find heartening.



5. I found the book to be well written and engaging in that typical British anecdotal style that breathes life into historical characters. It offers a detailed account of the sometimes bizarre history of this magnificent city during more than two millennia, all in one book, up until the middle of the 20th century.
   
   However, I felt that the book was quite lacking in providing answers, or even clues to answers, to the Big Questions: the rise and fall of the Republic and the later Empire, and the rise of Christianity. I did miss the context of all these facts that streamed by page after page, and there was no scholarly interpretation from the learned author regarding these inevitable Big Questions.
   
   The latter part of the book gets even better, when the author seems more at ease dealing with the 19th and 20th century. I found the detailed portrait of the rise and fall of the fascist state headed by Mussolini especially riveting. But even there, I wanted a bit more background and historical interpretation.
   
   If you look for a book that introduces you to more than two thousand years of Roman history, and is both educating and reads more like a novel than a thesis, you will not be disappointed. Furthermore, the book includes maps and pictures, to be used during a stay in the Eternal City. But if you want a more intellectual interpretation, there are better books on offer. I decided to buy both.

4 comments about The Forbidden Experiment (Kodansha Globe).

1. Shattuck writes a beautiful, poignant account about an event that forever influenced the course of modern day psychology. Shattuck not only discusses "Victor" himself (behavior, reactions, etc.), but also discusses the recupercusions his capture, attempted treatment, and attempted enculturalization had philosophically, morally, and psychologically. This is definitely a well written, well researched, 3-dimensional book. It explores the subject on every level possible.



2. In January, 1800, a boy of about eleven or twelve years old walked out of the woods near the village of Saint-Sernin in the Languedoc region of southern France. Except for a tattered shirt, he was naked. He had no shame or concern for his nakedness and had no ability to speak. He made only strange and apparently meaningless sounds and cries. While human in appearance, he lacked any qualities which otherwise would suggest that he was part of any human society.

   The boy was captured by a villager, transported and kept for several months in an orphanage in a nearby town, and eventually transferred to Paris in June, 1800, where "The Wild Boy of Aveyron" was claimed "for science and humanity" by the newly-formed Society of Observers of Man. In Paris, the boy was given over to the Abbe Sicard, a famous educator and the head of the Institute for Deaf-Mutes. "Miracles were expected of Sicard, for some of his deaf-mute pupils had made a reputation by their intelligence and wit in answering written questions before large audiences." Sicard, however, apparently believed that he could never train the seemingly wild creature and made no efforts to do so. Instead, he left the boy to run wild at the Institute and a commission appointed by the Society of the Observers of Man subsequently declared him to be an incurable idiot.

   It is at this point, however, sometime in the summer or fall of 1800, that the course of the Wild Boy's life took a different course. A twenty-five year old medical student, Jean-Marc Gaspard Itard began working at the Institute and became interested in the boy. More or less simultaneously with the declaration by the Society of the Observers of Man that the boy was an incurable idiot in November of that year, Itard was hired and given a room at the Institute for the sole purpose of working with the boy. Itard named the boy Victor and went on, over the course of the next six years and with the able assistance of a motherly figure by the name of Madame Guerin, to train the boy in accordance with principles Itard had derived from the writings of Locke and Condillac. These principles were intended to give the boy the ability to respond to other people, to train his senses, to extend his physical and social needs, to teach him to speak, and to teach him to think and reason logically. While Itard was never fully successful in achieving all of his objectives, his work was remarkably original and his observations and experiments have left the world with a fascinating picture of the Wild Boy of Aveyron.

   "The Forbidden Experiment: The Story of the Wild Boy of Aveyron" is a fascinating exploration of what it means to be human and how our humanity is, in a sense, created by the society in which we live, defined by our communications and relationships with others. In telling this story, Roger Shattuck has thoughtfully and sympathetically interwoven the factual story of the Wild Boy with the philosophical, psychological and historical background that ultimately makes this story so interesting. Thus, Shattuck explores the historical peculiarities of the Languedoc region from which the Wild Boy came (known for the poetry and song of the troubadors, as well as the Albigensian heresy), the historical forces which made him such a topic of interest (he was a boy seemingly straight from Rousseau's state of nature at a time when the French Revolution had given way to Napoleon), and the philosophical and psychological forerunners (Locke, Condillac, Rousseau) that provided the intellectual impetus for marking this "tabula rasa" of humanity. Shattuck's book also provides interesting appendices containing other published accounts of the Wild Boy of Aveyron, other cases of isolation and deprivation (including Kaspar Hauser, Peter of Hanover, The Elephant Man, and Helen Keller), and a short essay on Francois Truffaut's 1970 film, "The Wild Child," which is based upon the story of the Wild Boy of Aveyron.

   While simple in the telling, "The Forbidden Experiment" is a book which poses the deepest and most enigmatic of questions, the question of what it means to be human. Read it, ponder it, learn from it.




3. In January, 1800, a boy of about eleven or twelve years old walked out of the woods near the village of Saint-Sernin in the Languedoc region of southern France. Except for a tattered shirt, he was naked. He had no shame or concern for his nakedness and had no ability to speak. He made only strange and apparently meaningless sounds and cries. While human in appearance, he lacked any qualities which otherwise would suggest that he was part of any human society.

   The boy was captured by a villager, transported and kept for several months in an orphanage in a nearby town, and eventually transferred to Paris in June, 1800, where "The Wild Boy of Aveyron" was claimed "for science and humanity" by the newly-formed Society of Observers of Man. In Paris, the boy was given over to the Abbe Sicard, a famous educator and the head of the Institute for Deaf-Mutes. "Miracles were expected of Sicard, for some of his deaf-mute pupils had made a reputation by their intelligence and wit in answering written questions before large audiences." Sicard, however, apparently believed that he could never train the seemingly wild creature and made no efforts to do so. Instead, he left the boy to run wild at the Institute and a commission appointed by the Society of the Observers of Man subsequently declared him to be an incurable idiot.

   It is at this point, however, sometime in the summer or fall of 1800, that the course of the Wild Boy's life took a different course. A twenty-five year old medical student, Jean-Marc Gaspard Itard began working at the Institute and became interested in the boy. More or less simultaneously with the declaration by the Society of the Observers of Man that the boy was an incurable idiot in November of that year, Itard was hired and given a room at the Institute for the sole purpose of working with the boy. Itard named the boy Victor and went on, over the course of the next six years and with the able assistance of a motherly figure by the name of Madame Guerin, to train the boy in accordance with principles Itard had derived from the writings of Locke and Condillac. These principles were intended to give the boy the ability to respond to other people, to train his senses, to extend his physical and social needs, to teach him to speak, and to teach him to think and reason logically. While Itard was never fully successful in achieving all of his objectives, his work was remarkably original and his observations and experiments have left the world with a fascinating picture of the Wild Boy of Aveyron.

   "The Forbidden Experiment: The Story of the Wild Boy of Aveyron" is a fascinating exploration of what it means to be human and how our humanity is, in a sense, created by the society in which we live, defined by our communications and relationships with others. In telling this story, Roger Shattuck has thoughtfully and sympathetically interwoven the factual story of the Wild Boy with the philosophical, psychological and historical background that ultimately makes this story so interesting. Thus, Shattuck explores the historical peculiarities of the Languedoc region from which the Wild Boy came (known for the poetry and song of the troubadors, as well as the Albigensian heresy), the historical forces which made him such a topic of interest (he was a boy seemingly straight from Rousseau's state of nature at a time when the French Revolution had given way to Napoleon), and the philosophical and psychological forerunners (Locke, Condillac, Rousseau) that provided the intellectual impetus for marking this "tabula rasa" of humanity. Shattuck's book also provides interesting appendices containing other published accounts of the Wild Boy of Aveyron, other cases of isolation and deprivation (including Kaspar Hauser, Peter of Hanover, The Elephant Man, and Helen Keller), and a short essay on Francois Truffaut's 1970 film, "The Wild Child," which is based upon the story of the Wild Boy of Aveyron.

   While simple in the telling, "The Forbidden Experiment" is a book which poses the deepest and most enigmatic of questions, the question of what it means to be human. Read it, ponder it, learn from it.




4. ...

   "The Forbidden Experiment: The Story of the Wild Boy of Aveyron" is a fascinating exploration of what it means to be human and how our humanity is, in a sense, created by the society in which we live, defined by our communications and relationships with others. In telling this story, Roger Shattuck has thoughtfully and sympathetically interwoven the factual story of the Wild Boy with the philosophical, psychological and historical background that ultimately makes this story so interesting. Thus, Shattuck explores the historical peculiarities of the Languedoc region from which the Wild Boy came (known for the poetry and song of the troubadors, as well as the Albigensian heresy), the historical forces which made him such a topic of interest (he was a boy seemingly straight from Rousseau's state of nature at a time when the French Revolution had given way to Napoleon), and the philosophical and psychological forerunners (Locke, Condillac, Rousseau) that provided the intellectual impetus for marking this "tabula rasa" of humanity. Shattuck's book also provides interesting appendices containing other published accounts of the Wild Boy of Aveyron, other cases of isolation and deprivation (including Kaspar Hauser, Peter of Hanover, The Elephant Man, and Helen Keller), and a short essay on Francois Truffaut's 1970 film, "The Wild Child," which is based upon the story of the Wild Boy of Aveyron.

   While simple in the telling, "The Forbidden Experiment" is a book which poses the deepest and most enigmatic of questions, the question of what it means to be human. Read it, ponder it, learn from it.

5 comments about Greene on Capri: A Memoir.

1. I can only conclude from other reviews that Shirley Hazzard is an acquired taste, but would add that it's worth giving a go. She is a supremely old-fashioned writer, which I think some find mannered or awkward. It's odd, because I find her prose illuminating and exciting to read - each word is measured and beautiful. Her novels are luminous things of beauty, particularly The Bay of Noon and The Great Fire. She's just won Australia's top literary prize - very well-deserved. If you have time and patience, for her books need careful reading, they are richly rewarding. It's only an inexpensive paperback, go on, try some, you never know, you might like it!



2. Shirley Hazzard brilliantly evokes Capri in this easy-to-read portrait of one of the 20th Century's most influential British authors. This book melds literary biography at its best with personal memoir, and Hazzard's friendship with Greene offers important insights into not only his work habits and travels, but also his interpersonal relationships. As to her prose style, Hazzard may be a part of the "old-school" authors--long, serpentine sentences and frequent digressions--but there is only enjoyment to be found in the quiet island life she chronicles. Anyone interested in Greene, Hazzard and the beautiful isle of Capri itself will delight in this book.



3. I read Shirley Hazzard's book prior to visiting Capri for the first time in 20 years, and took it with me to read on the flight to Italy. In fact, the book made the journey with me to the island. This is an excellent portrait of Graham Greene and the information Ms. Hazzard adds concerning Capri certainly whetted my appetite and increased my anticipation to get to the island to see the places she mentioned.
   
   The book is written in a beautiful style. One hears Ms. Hazzard's voice in her writing and shares her experiences. I must confess that I really did not like Graham Greene very much as a person but I understand a great deal about him and what drove him. I was most touched by what Ms. Hazzard had to say about Harold Acton, so much so that I re-read that part of the book. Mr. Action was such a wonderful scholar and writer with such a wonderful presence that I would very much have liked to have known him. I will never forget the last visit of Ms. Hazzard to Harold Acton when he said he regretted not being able to see Naples one more time. Since I was reading this in Naples I was able to understand what he meant all the more.
   
   Someone else I enjoyed learning about was Ms. Hazzard's husband Francis Steegmuller, and some of the books he wrote. In particular the discussion about Mr. Steegmuller's book about Flaubert in Egypt sparked my interest to read it. Another book mentioned by Ms. Hazzard that has my interest in The Viper of Milan, historical fiction on the war between the dukes of Verona and Milan, which sounds like quite an exciting read.
   
   So this is a wonderful book that gives us a unique perspective on a great writer - Graham Greene - but also gives us a glimpse into the island of Capri and the people who came to live on this paradise of a place over the years, some who came and left and others who never did. I gained insight into places of the island, such as the Villa Jovis and the town of Capri, and met some interesting people, chief of whom is Ms Hazzard herself. I highly recommend this book for the superb memoir that it is and also for the excellence of the writing.



4. Really no more than a very, very long New Yorker sort of profile blown up to book size, GREENE ON CAPRI A MEMOIR is an irresistible sort of book and pure opium for those of us who like to read about people with so much money they can afford to live on several continents at once. Shirley Hazzard writes so creamily that it was only after several chapters that I started asking myself, where is all this money coming from? For none of the characters, save the distantly observed fishermen, have anything to do with their time but sit around all day at one of Capri's many colorful cafes, sip aperitifs, and cap each other's quotations from the Brownings.
   
   It's a form of literary sleight of hand that at its best is positively alluring, but when the illusion falters for even a minute a certain distast sets in. All travel writing is sort of alike, and there are two sorts of readers, one who loves nothing better than a book about Capri, and the other, who would rather undergo a Brazilian body wax without anesthesia than have to read a book like this one. Beyond this certainty, there are a few other problems with Hazzard's book. One is the problem noticed by most reviewers: that she really doesn't care much for Greene, so you ask yourself, then why write a book about someone who you just can't stand? The feeling creeps in that she was fascinated by his bad manners and his egotism, but that she was too drawn to his fame (the way her husband, Francis Steegmuller, became known as a permanent barnacle of the fame of Cocteau) to resist.
   
   Another debit is the photo selections which render Shirley Hazzard, not a bad looking woman, as the victim of a truly evil costume designer. No matter what decade it is, you see her wearing blouses with long Peter Pan style collars in which the tabs droop down practically to her breasts, a bizarre style which makes her look like a bejeweled and preening horse. It must have been Graham Greene's revenge. Probably long ago, in 1962, in Capri, he might have sent her a little CARE package from some demented designer in Antibes, and advised her it would make her look less like Lillian Hellman. His unpleasantness was legendary, the "irrational and cruel paroxysm of the playground," as Hazzard hazards. The odd thing is that Greene went to Capri at all! He was of the generation of Englishmen, she avers, that was actually blind to the beauty of physical surroundings. Perhaps they thought it unmanly. He was just there because it was "away." Her explanation isn't very convincing, but she does provide some interesting sidelights, such as the fact that Greene thought Olivier a terrible actor, much preferring the mundanities of Ralph Richardson or Paul Scofield. Hazzard also provokes a chuckle when she talks about how bad Graham Greene's own performance is, in Truffaut's DAY FOR NIGHT. "In a companion scene of the same film, a cat does far better."



5. Shirley Hazzard's memoir is touching and literally transports you to a time when writers gathered casually on islands and sipped wine wine and talked about the world. However, her friendship with Greene provides remarkable insight into Greene's character and actually left me wanting to read more about Greene, but much more about Hazzard herself.

5 comments about St. Patrick of Ireland: A Biography.

1. I'm personally challenged by the life of Patrick, kidnapped as a teenager and escaping as a young adult only to return to the land of his captors to serve the people there for the remainder of his life. He began entirely new communities and raised the standard for equal treatment of women in a time when they were thought of as little better than property. Amazing as that was, he grew to genuinely love and care for the Irish, although they were considerably less developed and a harsher people than his own. Freeman gives finely researched historical background to the times and context that Patrick lived in - both in Roman Britain and in Ireland. I learned heaps and it wasn't at all painful.



2. Trivia: Patrick once considered himself a pagan until divine intervention caused him to become the one who drove them out of the Emerald Isle when pagan icons failed to relieve from captivity. St. Patrick's day was a celebration of liberation from the spiritual bondage of pagan practices.
   
   St. Patrick of Ireland, like St. Valentine of Rome, has been commercialized in that pagan secular way of merchandising. St. Patrick drive the snakes out of Ireland when he converted the druids and other animal worship practices into Christianity. It was for this achievement that he was made a Saint.
   
   St. Patrick's Day is his feast day which has turned into a parade for Leprachuans, Shamrocks, Lucky Charms, and all sorts of Druid icons. Nonetheless, there was a historical man who became St. Patrick.
   
   Some historical notes for those interested: Saint Patrick's Day (Irish: Lá 'le Pádraig or Lá Fhéile Pádraig), colloquially Paddy's Day or St. Patty's Day, is the feast day which annually celebrates Saint Patrick (373-493), the patron saint of Ireland, on March 17, the day on which St. Patrick died.
   
   It is the Irish national holiday and one of the public holidays in the Republic of Ireland (a bank holiday in Northern Ireland); the overseas territory of Montserrat; and the Canadian province of Newfoundland and Labrador. In the United States, Australia, and rest of Canada it is widely celebrated, although not an official holiday.
   
   It became a feast day in the universal church due to the influence of the Waterford-born Franciscan scholar Luke Wadding, as a member of the commission for the reform of the Breviary [1] in the early part of the 17th century.
   
   The person who was to become St. Patrick, the patron saint of Ireland, was born in Roman Britain about AD 385. His given name was Maewyn, and he almost didn't get the job of bishop of Ireland because he lacked the required scholarship.
   
   Far from being a saint, until he was 16, he considered himself a pagan. At that age, he was sold into slavery by a group of Irish marauders that raided his village. During his captivity, he became closer to God.
   
   He escaped from slavery after six years and went to Gaul where he studied in the monastery under St. Germain, bishop of Auxerre for a period of twelve years. During his training he became aware that his calling was to convert the pagans to Christianity.
   
   He wished to return to Ireland and to convert the native pagans to Christianity, but his superiors instead appointed St. Palladius. However, two years later Palladius transferred to Scotland. Patrick, having adopted that Christian name earlier, was then appointed as second bishop to Ireland.
   
   Patrick was quite successful at winning converts which upset the Celtic Druids. Patrick was arrested several times, but escaped each time. He traveled throughout Ireland, establishing monasteries across the country. He also set up schools and churches which would aid him in his conversion of the Irish country to Christianity.
   
   His mission in Ireland lasted for thirty years. After that time, Patrick retired to County Down. He died on March 17 in AD 461. That day has been commemorated as St. Patrick's Day ever since.
   
   Much Irish folklore surrounds St. Patrick's Day. Not much of it is actually substantiated.
   
   Some of this lore includes the belief that Patrick raised people from the dead. He also is said to have given a sermon from a hilltop that drove all the snakes from Ireland. Of course, no snakes were ever native to Ireland, and some people think this is a metaphor for the conversion of the pagans. Though originally a Catholic holy day, St. Patrick's Day has evolved into more of a secular holiday.
   
   One traditional icon of the day is the shamrock. This stems from a more bona fide Irish tale that tells how Patrick used the three-leafed shamrock to explain the Trinity. He used it in his sermons to represent how the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit could all exist as separate elements of the same entity. His followers adopted the custom of wearing a shamrock on his feast day.
   
   The St. Patrick's Day custom came to America in 1737, the first year St. Patrick's Day was publicly celebrated, in Boston, Mass.
   
   Today, people celebrate the day with parades, wearing green, and drinking beer. One reason St. Patrick's Day might have become so popular is that it takes place just a few days before the first day of spring. One might say it has become the first green of spring.
   
   In the recent past, Saint Patrick's Day was celebrated only as a religious holiday. It became a public holiday in 1903, by the Bank Holiday (Ireland) Act 1903, an Act of the United Kingdom Parliament introduced by the Irish MP James O'Mara[3]. O'Mara later introduced the law which required that pubs be closed on March 17[4], a provision which was repealed only in the 1970s. The first St. Patrick's Day parade held in the Irish Free State was held in Dublin in 1931 and was reviewed by the then Minister of Defence Desmond Fitzgerald. Although secular celebrations now exist, the holiday is still a religious observance in some areas.
   
   It was only in the mid-1990s that the Irish government began a campaign to use Saint Patrick's Day to showcase Ireland and its culture.[2] The government set up a group called St. Patrick's Festival, with the aim to:
   
   --Offer a national festival that ranks amongst all of the greatest celebrations in the world and promote excitement throughout Ireland via innovation, creativity, grassroots involvement, and marketing activity.
   --Provide the opportunity and motivation for people of Irish descent, (and those who sometimes wish they were Irish) to attend and join in the imaginative and expressive celebrations.
   --Project, internationally, an accurate image of Ireland as a creative, professional and sophisticated country with wide appeal, as we approach the new millennium.[5]
   The first Saint Patrick's Festival was held on March 17, 1996. In 1997, it became a three-day event, and by 2000 was a four-day event. By 2006, the festival was five days long.
   
   The topic of the 2004 St. Patrick's Symposium was "Talking Irish," during which the nature of Irish identity, economic success, and the future were discussed. Since 1996, there has been a greater emphasis on celebrating and projecting a fluid and inclusive notion of "Irishness" rather than an identity based around traditional religious or ethnic allegiance. The week around Saint Patrick's Day usually involves Irish speakers using more Irish during seachtain na Gaeilge ("Irish Week").
   
   Shamrock ("three-leaf clover")Many Irish people still wear a bunch of shamrocks on their lapels or caps on this day or green, white, and orange badges (after the colours of the Irish flag). Girls and boys wear green in their hair. Artists draw shamrock designs on people's cheeks as a cultural sign, including American tourists.



3. This is an excellent book that details the geography and history of the times, and the station of life that young Patrick hailed from. All of these background historical details are vital in understanding better Patrick's life and ministry. The author appeared to be as thorough as possible. What was startling was just how depraved, pagan, and cruel, at least the roving Irish were (slave traders, murderers, even cannibals) without the tempering influence of Christianity. It makes one realize how the conversion of Ireland did in fact bring the kind of normalcy that most of us take for granted within the context of civilized society.



4. This is a great book for anyone interested in getting a glimpse at one of the most influential figures (in my opinion) in early Christianity. Freeman's book presents a concise, easy-to-follow account of Saint Patrick's life and ministry as well as pertinent historical and cultural information about Ireland and Roman Britain during his lifetime.



5. There certainly is a very large amount of information packed into a very small book (by comparison) here. This is an excellent work for those who have been curious, or are curious, about this famous Irish Saint, yet who are not so curious that they want to dig through a mind numbing academic work which would be better than xanax to provide a good nap. I am one of those people and I am one who greatly appreciated this work. In other areas of history, yes, I want something more in depth, but not on this particular subject. It is written in a scholarly manner, appears to be very well researched, yet I found not one page that I did not learn something from nor one page that caused my eyes to roll back into my head and wish the author would just get on with it. It was a good and informative read.
   
   I certainly am not going to rewrite the entire work in this form and call it a review. That has already been done. For greater detail refer to one of the well done and very in depth reviews already posted here. What I found most interesting about the book was the author's ability to paint a very vivid picture of the cultural and religious clash that too place in Ireland during St. Patrick's time. I enjoyed the brief look at the state of the Christian Church at that time and how it affected the people of that time. That story, to me, was just as fascinating as the one told by the author of the Great Saint himself. The brief look at the Celtic religious practices and beliefs was excellent. I also appreciated the author's ability to separate fact from all the fiction that has been dished out for years and years and do it in a nonoffensive way. This was quite refreshing. The author is quite careful to note fact from fiction, speculation from written and archeological fact. This was most helpful.
   
   The author has a wonderful popular history style, yet writes in a mode that does not insult your credulity nor does Freeman sensationalize events simply to hold the reader's interest. The facts alone, and the way the author presents them, are enough to keep you turning the pages on this one. The black and white maps provided are quite helpful as is the "dictionary" and foot noting. I enjoyed the translation of the two surviving letters of St. Patrick's "Letter to the Soldiers of Coroticus" and the "Confession." Both are a nice touch and added much to the value of the book.
   
   A work such as this, where so much has been lost down through the years is not an easy thing to write, but this author, Philip Freeman has done an excellent job. Now there are books out there that go into much greater depth on the subject of this obviously great man and I certainly would recommend further reading for those who are interested or who want to become experts on the subject. For myself, this work fit my needs perfectly. I wanted to know a bit about the man and I certainly learned it here.
   
   Recommend this one highly.
   
   Don Blankenship

5 comments about Booking Passage: We Irish and Americans.

1. When three of the sections have these headings: Bits & Pieces, Odds & Ends, Fits & Starts, you get the idea: lots of thoughts mainly about but not always about Irish in America and in the US. Lynch writes well, perhaps too self-consciously (but you could say the same about Beckett, Joyce, McGahern, or Banville) about his place within the past & present Irish identity increasingly available to trans-Atlantic "passengers" reversing the emigration of their ancestors. The strength of this book comes from Lynch's determination to act out a point attributed to one of Brian O Nolan's many literary guises: to be Irish you need not have been born there, merely to claim allegiance.
   
   Comparisons to James Charles Roy's more acerbic accounts of restoring a "castle" in Co Galway and herding about Yanks on a tour, respectively "The Fields of Athenry" and "The Back of Beyond," provide a fine counterpoint to the themes Lynch takes on--a rejoinder in turn to the Niall Williams "back to nature" tendency to romanticize rural Irish life for second-home owners.
   
   The most fluent and unified part of Lynch's collection, apparently knocked about for a while in gestation since about 1970 and added to as life added to Lynch's accumulated experiences revolving around Ireland, mortality, and his place within both realms, the section "Death Comes for the Curate" tracks his priest relative who died early back three-quarters of a century ago in New Mexico, and from this Lynch frames a meditation examining Irish Catholicism from many angles, both in Ireland and its remnants in America. This portion of the book hit home, and worked in its concentration around a central theme.
   
   What worked less effectively was, as the opening paragraph about the chapter headings foreshadows, the scattered organization of much of Lynch's other musings. To his credit he steers clear of "The Troubles" and largely bypasses the cute anecdotes and clever pub banter that sinks many a travelogue about the oul' sod. Yet, in his putting thoughts to paper, he tends--like Montaigne whom he cites--to drift before coming back to where he started, at best. In sections about relatives, the old house he restores, poetry that mattered to his younger and present self, and the irritation aroused by travel and its delays in a post 9/11 world, he is often sharp and worthwhile to learn from.
   
   But in many of these same chapters, the control lessens and you feel as if too many undigested and unrevised ideas crowd out the better prose. The book wanders about mightily, and too much to reward a long sitting or two, although in parts it can be dipped into for a few pages with pleasure. Perhaps I need to re-read Montaigne to acclimate myself to Lynch, but the latter seems to treat the Irish concerns as ultimately as disorganized and fractious as any other Lynch may have. While true for him no doubt, this disorganization makes for less than fluid streams of consciousness on these finely wrought but rather too crammed and caroming essays that leave a reader as often stranded as enlightened. Yet, again, that chapter on Catholicism's superb!



2. Hilarious in parts, I found his diatribe on 9/11, the airport wait between flights, his "rise" to stardom etc. to be egotistical and boring. If he had stuck to Ireland, relatives there, the cottage there, his life in the States and the back and forth between the two, it would have made a better book. I loved it for the brogue and dialogue therein; reminded me of my father who spoke with a brogue imitating my grandparents from Roscommon but it does wander and that's a shame because he seems to have a niche with his close tie to Ireland that could be used again and again in more books perhaps.



3. I'd been waiting for what seemed like too long for a third book of stories from Thomas Lynch, but wondered if his Irish-based tales could possibility be as compelling as his earlier works, which were stories about life based on his career in dealing with the dead (in addition to being a writer, Lynch is an undertaker). But again, just as he used the funeral home as a backdrop for stories not about death but about life, Lynch uses Ireland, land of his ancestory and his frequent visits, as the canvas for telling poignant stories about life. Now I'll give friends copies of "Booking Passage" while i wait for a fourth book from Thomas Lynch.



4. "Booking Passage, We Irish and Americans" is a delight. Thomas Lynch's use of language is inspiring. Lynch's observations on Irish and American life in the last three decades are full of wit and insight. This is a great book by a great author.



5. It's hard to define this book. Mostly, it's about the experience of Thomas Lynch and his extended Irish-American family living in Michigan and his going back home to Clare to the relatives still living in the home of his ancestors. That part alone is well worth the read but Mr. Lynch goes much further, delving into his personal, spiritual faith and the schizophrenia of The Church as well as the residue of 9/11 and the chaos, fear and war that has followed, adding a depth I hadn't expected. The writing is lyrical and flows from topic to topic with ease, like an often beautiful, sometimes heart-wrenching journey.

5 comments about Henry II (English Monarchs).

1. Warren's is an excellent and very recommendable text. This book (already in its 5th edition) is destined to remain a great among readers, researchers and teachers of history. He nails Henry II and the history of his unruly domain.
   
   Warren tells a complete and well-documented story of one of Britain's greatest kings. The book's photos, maps, tables, and glossary are very helpful. Although he tends towards long paragraphs and run-on sentences, Warren's writing style is not dull nor does he ramble. This book could also serve as an excellent study text for 21st century writing and documenting style.
   
   The book's length (693 pages in paperback) may frighten some, but it is well worth reading. It takes time to unpack good history and the story of Henry II is no exception as Warren proves.



2. W. L. Warren's excellent monograph on the first Plantagenet king displays a superb narrative style and an authoritative thoroughness of detail, which nonetheless remains surprisingly approachable for a work of this length and depth. This depth is remarkable: one can open the book to any chapter and read it independently without feeling that one is missing key details. Yet the book manages to steer free of a sense of drudgery or redundancy, even while effecting such an admirable encapsulated quality for its chapters. I can hardly wait to read his book on King John.



3. This is not only the best biography of Henry II I've ever read, but it is one of the best non-fiction historical books I've ever read, too. The writing is lively, engaging, and often wryly amusing, though that may be in part because of the subject. Mr Warren does not in the least ignore or minimize the flaws of Henry II, but neither can he conceal a deep respect for this magnificent king. Too often, the tragedy of Thomas Becket and Henry II's relationship with the glamorous Eleanor of Aquitaine detract from this great king's important accomplishments, and influence, the precursors of which extend even to our American judicial system today. What impresses me most about this man is that he did not love power for power's sake alone, but for the sake of honestly trying to improve the affairs of the wide kingdoms he ruled. This book by Mr Warren should stand as THE definitive biography of Henry II.



4. "From the devil they came. To the devil they shall return." Abbé Bernard of Clairvaux (later Saint Bernard) pronounced that uncharitable verdict on the Angevin line. Legend has Bernard voicing his opinion after taking one look at the infant Henry of Anjou, child of Geoffrey, Count of Anjou and his consort, the Empress Matilda.
   
   Nothing deterred, the infant Henry grew to inherit Anjou, as its count (1151). Then came his conquests by might or marriage: Normandy, Aquitaine and Poitou, before claiming England as King Henry II (1154-1189). After 1154, Henry II and his consort, Eleanor of Aquitaine, ruled a swathe of land stretching from the Scottish border to the Pyrenees, the Angevin Empire.
   
   Perhaps Abbé Bernard was guided in his prognostication by the legend that the House of Anjou descended from the fairy Melusine, a malevolent sprite. There is no question that male members of the family, including Henry, were subject to incendiary fits of rage, one of which sent Eleanor into exile until Henry's death. People attached to the courts of alpha-male Angevins, especially Henry, could expect a turbulent life.
   
   Henry II's place in history is burdened by bad headlines and his sometimes flawed judgment. Appointing his friend Chancellor Thomas Becket to be archbishop of Canterbury was an error from the start. ("Was it because you held him in too much liking, or in too slight respect?" Eleanor asks, in another title.) Becket's murder might have proved fatal to Henry's reputation had Henry not been blessed with twin powers of recovery: amazing decisiveness and speed of action. Then there were the extraordinary rebellions against their father by Henry's sons, conflagrations fanned, perhaps, by Eleanor, and again, perhaps on account of Henry's ceaseless whoring.
   
   I write this pointed preamble to stress that W.L. Warren has not been misled by Henry's lurid press. Warren is even-handed, recognizing, and giving credit to, Henry's tireless labors in restoring an England ruined by nineteen years of civil war. Henry was a capable administrator and a fair-minded man. Henry, with Becket, established county courts in England and unified a code of laws to be evenly applied by competent judges. Henry was responsible for legislating 12-man juries (adopting the unit of commerce, the dozen), and employing juries in civil cases (Clarendon, 1166; Northampton, 1176). Henry's attention to property rights and contract law gave England a commercial edge that soon manifest itself in the growth and rising prosperity of new and expanding towns.
   
   In short, W.L. Warren has captured Henry II to the life, the man and his reign, warts, triumphs and all. Warren's "Henry II" not only brings us the man as a whole: his "Henry II" is entertaining to read.
   
   Robert Fripp, author of
   "Power of a Woman. Memoirs of a turbulent life: Eleanor of Aquitaine"



5. In my book, "Astronomical Symbols on Ancient and Medieval Coins", I devote an entire chapter to the astronomical symbols that were depicted on medieval English coinage as signs of divine right to sovereignty. As part of my research, I read numerous books on medieval English history, and I found that Warren's book, "Henry II," was especially useful.
   
   Not only were there many items of interest that added to my understanding of the history of his reign, but of all the books about Henry II that I read, Warren's book was one of the most interesting reads. He really brought together an amazing amount of information.
   
   I highly recommend this book to all who are interested in English history.
   
   Marshall Faintich

5 comments about William Marshal: The Flower of Chivalry.

1. If you like middle Ageds, this is your book. IF you like chivalry, this is your book. If you like to read a good book, this is your book. Prof. Duby was not only a great scholar, but as a writer has a great style. He is simple and elegant. Although is a short book it will give you a great pleasure. Not only if you are a professional, but to anyone who likes History and learning. iN fact any book by Duby is an open window to the middles Ages. So just get ready for a great trip.



2. As you may recall in the film A LION IN WINTER, there was a briefly seen character named "William" (played by Nigel Stock in the superlative 1968 version starring Peter O'Toole and Katherine Hepburn), the right-hand man of King Henry II, who fetched his master's sons, Richard and Geoffrey, and Henry's Queen Eleanor (imprisoned in England's Salisbury Tower) to the royal castle of Chinon in France for the 1183 Christmas court. This William was William Marshal, the subject of this small book (153 pages) of the same name by French medieval historian Georges Duby. The translated volume was published in 1985.
   
   Marshal was a remarkable man, whose knightly career spanned roughly five decades, over which time he went from penniless knight to acting-King of England (when he served as Regent for the young Henry III). Over that period, he was a faithful servant to four kings (Henry II, Richard I, John, Henry III) and one almost-king, the Young King Henry, the eldest son of Henry II crowned and anointed heir in 1170, but who pre-deceased Ol' Dad in June of 1183. William, by then Earl of Pembroke, died in 1219.
   
   Duby's interest lies in that facet of medieval feudalism called chivalry, and he admiringly uses Marshal's life to illustrate the subject. Indeed, the author's description of William's life seems sometimes oddly detached, as if describing a rat in a lab experiment. Georges uses as his primary source a biography of the man - twenty-seven parchment leaves containing 19,914 verses - commissioned by the family shortly after the earl's death, and which survived in its entirety to the present. The biography, "Histoire de Guillaume le Marechal", was written in French, a fact, I suspect, which was crucial in drawing Duby's attention to it.
   
   The author takes great pains to point out that feudal society was a hierarchical one comprised of superimposed layers, and with an order, ostensibly intended by God, "based on the intermingled notions of inequality, service, and loyalty." For laymen, i.e. the non-Church nobility - from bottom to top, from knight to king - it was a complex web of relations of domesticity, consanguinity, vassalage, and politics. Duby's great accomplishment in WILLIAM MARSHAL: THE FLOWER OF CHIVALRY is reducing this complexity to a human level for the reader using Marshal as the poster boy.
   
   With a knowledge of feudalism probably no greater than anyone with an average interest and instruction in Western history, I came away from this absolute gem of a book with a greater and satisfying understanding of five particular aspects of feudalism and chivalry: the loyalty expected of a vassal knight to his lord of the moment regardless of the latter's loyalty to his superior further up the ladder, the importance of tournaments to the knights' livelihoods, the role of increasing circulating specie in eroding the knights' class pretensions, the necessity of marriage to an heiress to move a bachelor knight up in societal rank (marriage = land = power), and the status of women, i.e. landed noble women, in this society run exclusively by men. Indeed, Marshal himself remained a bachelor - and, therefore, a relative non-entity - until he was almost fifty, at which time he married Isabel de Clare, a seventeen-year old orphaned heiress sequestered as a royal ward in the Tower of London for her own protection (like a gold bar in a bank vault), and who was granted to William by a dying Henry II. (At the time, Isabel, in terms of land, was the second richest woman in England.) After Henry died and his successor Richard confirmed the gift, Marshal hurried back to England from France in unseemly haste to wed, deflower, and claim his prize. Isabel, of course, had absolutely no say in the matter, a fact likely to infuriate modern-day feminists. In any case, Marshal lived long enough to father at least ten children by her, and it was via her patrimony that William became Earl of Pembroke.
   
   One last note about THE LION IN WINTER. William's role in the film was perhaps a screenwriter's embellishment. At the time (Nov-Jan 1183), Marshal was likely still trying to attach to a new lord's household after the death of his previous employer, the Young King Henry, the previous summer. The fact that Henry, Jr. had been in rebellion against his father at the time of the former's death wasn't likely to help Marshal attach to the latter's retinue, a feat ensured success only after William spent two years on crusade in the Holy Land from 1185 to 1187.
   
   I would unreservedly recommend WILLIAM MARSHAL to any casual or serious student of European feudalism during the reigns of the early Plantagenets.



3. The life of William Marshal is an elusive life to study upon. There is very little written about him and what little there is reads more like propaganda. That being said, Georges Duby has done a superb job in bringing the character of William Marshal to life. We are told by Duby himself that he is not attempting to write a biography of Marshal, but rather use the lengthy poem written about Marshal to analyze his character and illustrate why he was thought of as the Flower of Chivalry.
   
   This is something that is hard to do. What is reality and what was written in order to lift Marshal high in the eyes of his peers? Using his own knowledge of the time along with other biographies written about Marshal Duby is able to depict a seemingly accurate rendition of the chivalric knight. We are treated to short, yet pleasingly full explanations of normal everyday medieval society. Where other authors pass over the trivial explanations Duby includes. Such as why a final resting place was chosen, the act of homage, why children were sent away, the importance of maternal uncles and so on... Small detail oriented research that one familiar with the period knows, and yet we as the amateur reader aren't too familiar with. This in itself makes this a book any reader of history should read.
   
   The only downside is that we may truly never know who Marshal was. What we know is based off of a poem commissioned by Marshal's son in order to lift his father, and thus the family, higher in the eyes of society. How much is propaganda? I think it safe to say almost everything is, but within this lengthy poem we can find the character of Marshal.
   
   I am eager to read something else written by Georges Duby. I would definitely recommend this book and author to all.
   
   5 stars.



4. Georges Duby, among the most influential French scholars to bring the middle ages to life, based his "William Marshall: The Flower of Chivalry" on many sources. One of those needs special mention. "L'Histoire de Guillaume le Marechal" is a poem of more than 19,000 lines commissioned by the eldest of Marshall's five sons to celebrate the life of their father.
   
   And what a life, rising from humble squire to become a champion in many tournaments and a feared warrior who ended his years as Regent of England after a lifetime at war. As a young knight William Marshall was severely wounded while saving Eleanor of Aquitaine from an ambush. She ransomed him and he joined her service. (See Duby's "Women of the Twelfth Century, Volume 1: Eleanor of Aquitaine and Six Others.")
   
   After that, William served Eleanor's spouse, King Henry I, and their crowned heir to England, Young Henry: William's tournament winnings repaid Young Henry's debts. After that, William took his sword to Palestine, a vow made to Young Henry, who died at 15. Thereafter, William served Henry I again, then Richard I (Lionheart), his brother King John, and finally John's son, the boy-king Henry III.
   
   The age of chivalry's high point centered on the decade of the 1170s. We know of no better practitioner than William Marshall. His career and his conduct were those of the perfect knight. It is no exaggeration to say that the real life of William Marshall exceeded the on-screen career of any Hollywood action hero, with no stunt doubles or special effects.
   
   Duby puts more than William Marshall's career in brilliant context. His principal source, "L'Histoire de Guillaume le Marechal" was written, not in Latin, but in Anglo-Norman French. Duby explains its provenance. It remains the first document of such length to be written in French. And the odds are very good that the excellent poet who produced those 19,000 lines in octosyllabic couplets wrote them in England!
   
   Robert Fripp, Author,
   "Power of a Woman. Memoirs of a turbulent life: Eleanor of Aquitaine"



5. This is a very easy read. Fast paced, really no slow dry stretches that I so often find in history books. I had hoped Duby would include more of the actual primary source, which is the biography of Marshal commissioned by his son after the Marshal's death. Duby speaks to the biography and pulls out pieces here and there for color, but I would have liked to have read more of it. Having said that, this was one of the most entertaining and interesting books on knighthood and the Plantagenet era that I have come across. Marshal was a true player in the historical events of the time, and his rags to riches story is very engaging.

3 comments about Charles & Camilla: Portrait of a Love Affair.

1. After reading a previous biography on England's current monarch and spouse by Gyles Brandreth, I was keenly keeping an eye out for his next book, this time talking about the current Prince of Wales and his second marriage, this time to his long-time mistress, Camilla Parker-Bowles. Along the way, Brandreth takes a look at the history of royal mistresses, the ancestry of the couple in question, and reveals that there's quite a bit more going on than meets the eye.
   
   The custom of a prince or king having several mistresses -- what can be called 'girlfriends' today -- is a custom as old as when the first monarch plopped a crown on his head. Until recently, most royal marriages were arranged, where King A was available, or his son was, and King B had an unmarried daughter, and would exchange daughter in return for say, a peace treaty or financial support or whatever it was that they needed at the time. History rarely records what the poor girl thought of the match, and what was expect of her was to be fruitful, bear several heirs, and if she was lucky, there would be genuine affection in her marriage. For fun, royal men have turned to other women, an arrangement that winked at, but so long as they didn't make a fool of themselves, the men got away with it. It was only recently, with the union of England's Queen Victoria with a minor German princeling by the name of Albert, that romance -- and fidelity -- began to be the norm. For the first several chapters of the book, Brandreth discusses the various peccadillos of England's royal families, and shows how the standard came to be.
   
   The first cracks showed up with England's Edward VIII and the notorious Mrs. Simpson, a woman who was divorced, twice, and certainly not the virgo intacta that was expected of a royal wife. But Edward VIII stepped down for the woman he loved, and his younger brother Bertie -- George VI -- took the throne, and did a pretty good job of a task he never wanted. Stress and smoking made his reign a short one, and his elder daughter, Elizabeth II, is now England's queen. Which brings us to the current royal heir, Charles, the Prince of Wales, a young man of rather nervous temprament and the resources to live a life of a popular playboy.
   Unfortunately, he had those ears, and somehow the good looks of his parents skipped a generation. At a polo match, he met a young woman of aristocratic stock, funny, and just as interested as he was in polo and horses.
   
   She was Camilla Shand, somewhat pretty, and when she met the Prince, she commented, "My great-grandmother was your great-great-grandfather's mistress, so how about it?" The story, whether true or not, has entered myth, and it was rumored that the pair became lovers, and at least friends. But Charles was a bit uncertain about asking anyone to be his wife, and that lack of confidence let Camilla slip away to another man, a dashing Army officer by the name of Andrew Parker-Bowles. Camilla got married, raised some children, and remained a good friend of the Prince, while Charles went on to his chase after women, and finally, when he was in his thirties, asked another aristocratic young woman to marry him, and this time, he was accepted.
   
   This is where Brandreth's book gets interesting. Besides all of the gossip about who's sleeping with whom, a tanscription of the notorious 'tampon' conversation, he paints a very telling portrait of the Prince of Wales. As well as looking at the outside, he also attempts to look at the why as well. This is where the book becomes the most interesting, and there's quite a few AHA! moments there for the reader who isn't numbed and dazed by all of the various begats and mudslinging.
   
   And yet -- this isn't nearly as good as the biography that Brandreth wrote about Charles' parents. For one, it gets a bit too intimate in spots, and I was downright embarassed. It's one thing to read about someone who has gone on to their eternal reward, but quite another when they're alive and kicking. Diana Spencer doesn't come off too well in this one either, showing her as a very naive, not-too-bright young woman, who was just as emotionally needy as her husband, and didn't have the wits to be quiet about it. There's plenty of venom being flung about, and at times, it's not much more than a scandal sheet, and not too objective.
   
   Still, out of all the various books out there (and no doubt will continue to appear), it's not too bad, and better than most. For anyone who enjoys eavesdropping on royalty, it's not a bad read at all. There are some problems -- Brandreth is a cackling hen of a writer, flooding the pages with footnotes and smirking connections among Europe and England's elite. One thing that this book really needed was a genealogical chart or several to show all of the connections and help to keep everyone straight. I had to be constantly backing up now and then to make sure I was thinking about the right person he was discussing. Too, by scattering the footnotes throughout the book, instead of lumping them at the end as most histories do, makes it very distracting to follow along.
   
   On the other hand, there are quite a lot of photographs in several inserts, several appendices that talk about the various duties and organizations that the Prince is involved with, along with various sources and an index to track down minor royals.
   
   Summing up, this one is actually better than what I make it sound. It's a very solid four star read, despite the problems, and one that I suspect I will reread again in the future. What it does do is help to understand a very complex relationship, and finally, a love story that managed to survive scandal, death and publicity to finally come to a settled, and maybe even a peaceful resolution.
   
   Four stars. Recommended.



2. I picked up this book expecting the advertised insight into the relationship between Prince Charles and his long-time mistress Camilla, who at long last became his wife and is now known as the Duchess of Cornwall.
   
   It took perseverance.
   
   The flashes of insight are scattered through a narrative that begins with the monarchs of England and their mistresses from about the year dot. Or 736. Or something. And meanders down to the present day with endless details about the ancestors and descendants of kings, princesses, mistresses, near-mistresses, cousins, courtiers, generals, admirals, and probably a few of their horses.
   
   Reading this book is like a Sunday afternoon visit with a gossipy old uncle who knows everybody - and their dogs and cats. He rambles and rummages among a lot of boring history, can't resist going off on tangents, and yet if you listen long enough he does eventually dish the dirt. When you leave, you have learned something new, and you feel you've cheered up the old boy by engaging in the visit. Even if most of the begats and ranks and titles went in one ear and out the other.
   
   I agree with another reviewer: this book cries out for some charts to help the reader follow all of that genealogy described in such excruciating detail.
   
   This isn't a fast read. Nor is it uncritically admiring of anyone, including Charles and Camilla. On the subject of Charles' ill-starred first marriage, it's nowhere near as comprehensive and gifted as Tina Brown's The Diana Chronicles. But Brandreth leaves us with a portrait of Prince Charles as an intelligent, sensitive, dutiful boy who didn't respond as well as his sturdier sister to the often harsh regimens of his school days. Who grew into a dutiful and complex young man, still oddly diffident with women, and working hard to fulfill the duties of the unique lifelong role he was born into. Although it ended in tears - and worse - he began his first marriage in good faith, retained some affection and concern for Diana long after the marriage died, and was always an involved father.
   
   The portrait of Camilla is less complete, but then she wasn't famous from birth so information is harder to obtain. Brandreth presents her as a naturally happy person who likes to have fun. She's intelligent but not an intellectual, and is devoted to horses, hunting, gardening, and her close-knit family. And, for much of her life, to the Prince of Wales. Camilla grew up in a close and happy family, and her stability, warmth and optimism no doubt play a strong counterpoint to some of Charles' more skittish tendencies. She sounds like a good person to have as a friend: ready to have fun, loyal, and unlikely to make a fuss about a little mud tracked into the house.
   
   In Camilla, from the beginning, Charles found his soulmate. Brandreth eventually gives us a portrait of a deep and strong relationship that has survived against all odds. Whether you like these two people or not, they clearly belong together. I wonder what would have happened if they could have married each other first.
   
   As a "portrait of a love affair" this book is cluttered with too much information, both irrelevant and intimate. I didn't need the transcript of the entire "Camillagate" phone call, but it's in there. And I don't care who begat whom in 14th Century Britain. I'll take it as read that kings have historically married for duty and taken mistresses for everything else. Some historical perspective is helpful, but Brandreth piles on too much detail.
   
   You might while away a long plane flight with this book, but better also pack something else to read when you get fed up with Brandreth's incessant fussing and fidgeting.



3. Good Lord.
   Someone please save the British people from this family.
   This book was somewhat interesting but depressing and I really wanted it to end.
   These wretched, god awful people. They are not nice. They are immoral, the whole lot of 'em. They deserve each other and their never ending troubles which just perpetuate generation after generation after generation.
   God save William and Harry.