"The 100 Year Old Man" - A Felix Herngren Film (2015)

This is a very good film. I’m not quite sure how to review it without taking anything away from the steady stream of surprises which this film holds in store for the viewer. 

I have to confess something here; I am probably the only person on the planet who disliked the film “Forrest Gump.” I have never made it through more than 15 minutes of it. And yet this film is somewhat similar. And that’s all I will tell you. I will give you this much though; here are the notes, right from the back of this exceptionally creative film.

“After a long and explosive life in munitions, involving a multitude of seminal moments from the 20^th Century, including the Spanish Revolution, the atomic bomb, and the Cold War, Allean Karlsson finds himself  - on his 100^th birthday – stuck in a tranquil Swedish nursing home. Determined to escape the monotony he hops out a window and kicks off a hilarious and unexpected comic-adventure by way of a stolen briefcase, a hardcore biker gang, and an escaped circus elephant named Sonya.”

It’s funny that as I read the liner notes today I think I understand more fully the difference between “Forrest Gump” and Allan Karlsson. While Gump was a somewhat of a bystander caught up in the circumstances around him, Karlsson is more pro-active, inserting himself in the situations which present themselves. And for me, that makes all the difference.

"Dreamers and Deceivers" by Glenn Beck (2014) HISTORICAL FICTION

This is not a non-fiction book. But that's where it is being filed in the library and in book stores. It is what is known as “historical fiction” according to Mr. Beck; but that in itself is an overstatement. Historical fiction is a genre in which true events are used as a backdrop for a story. What Mr. Beck does is to take actual people; inventors, politicians and the like; and make up whole conversations and thoughts based solely on what he believes occurred. 

Actually, it is a fiction to think that this book was even written by Mr. Beck. At the end; in the section where even Mr. Beck refers to this work as “historical fiction”; he speaks of the “teams” he used to cull other peoples books and biographies to re-write them in a way which will “clarify” for the reader what the original author really meant.

Reading the chapter about Desi Arnaz is nothing more than reading a book report of Mr. Arnaz’ brilliant autobiography “A Book.” It is the same with all of the other chapters. And some of the source notes for the chapters are really almost funny.  For instance, in the notes on the chapter dealing with Edwin Armstrong; the inventor of the radio receiver which revolutionized Marconi’s wireless, as well as FM radio itself; actually read, “From an imagined conversation.”  I’m not kidding you.

This is a continuation of a troubling trend (nice bit of alliteration there) which began when the book “Dutch” was published several years ago. That book was purported to be an autobiography of Ronald Reagan as imagined by the author, who was not Ronald Reagan.

Rush Limbaugh uses horses that talk in his books “Rush Revere.” That’s okay. Those are children’s books and we all know; or should know; those horses and other animals cannot talk. That’s historical fiction. And it serves a purpose in getting children interested in reading about the actual events later on.

"Gone With the Wind" is a perfect example of historical fiction; wherein real life events serve as the backdrop to a fictitious story. Lincoln and Lee are only names in the film; and Shiloh and Gettysburg are merely names of distant battles.“Shogun” and any other number of other books also come to mind. None of which contain real people doing and saying anything. While the King may be real in “A Prince and a Pauper”, we know that the book is fiction. It is labelled that way. Even in “The Bridge Over the River Kwai”, by Pierre Boulle; which is a fictional tale about the real bridge; the author uses fictional names for the characters. (By the way, Boulle also wrote "The Planet of the Apes.")

Books like this one by Mr. Beck do a great disservice to serious history; as they will be read largely by adults who will then not read the books written by the original authors and biographers who have already carefully chronicled the true events. And, naturally, fans of Mr. Beck's TV show will be taking his books to be the "gospel" on the subjects they purport to be about. That's troubling. Also, consider the younger readers who will take this book to be all fact..

What troubles me most though is that the real stories no longer seem to be of interest to the average reader. The books have to be suggested by Oprah; or else re-written by "talking heads" like Mr. Beck. Certainly there is an agenda at work in these projects. And, even with a team of researchers and writers, Mr. Beck's book has Neil Armstrong broadcasting from the surface of the Moon in 1968. For the benefit of those who might not be old enough to remember, we didn't land there until 1969. With an error like that, how am I to trust him in the chapter about something as complicated as the Alger Hiss case?

Having a team of researchers distill the essence of other people’s writings and experiences; while adding conversations and motives not attributable to any real source other than “imaginary”; only serves to slant history and dumb the reader down. I will be asking my library to please file these types of books under Fiction, where they clearly belong. This is not just my opinion. Even the author says so on page 285. 

While the author has the perfect right to pen whatever he chooses to, he also has the responsibility to see that the book is not misrepresented as something it is not. While Mr. Beck may be blameless; leaving the publisher at fault initially; surely Mr. Beck noticed that his book was listed and reviewed as Non- Fiction rather than Historical Fiction, and yet chose to do nothing about it. 

Note: Having read almost all of the books referenced in "Dreamers and Deceivers", I was unable to finish reading this one. I made it to the end of Chapter 2 before looking at the source notes and confirming my suspicions that this is merely a collection of highly imaginative book reports. I then skimmed through the remainder of the book, which did not improve in regards to being "imagined history" rather than a collection of true biographical sketches.

However, the book is registered with the Library of Congress as a Biography; and I have registered my concerns with them about whether or not this book should even be classified as Non-Fiction, let alone as Biography. 

Here is the reply I received last Tuesday from the Library of Congress. It would appear that the book was presented by the Publisher as something which it is not.

"The original record (you see it as Cataloging in Publication Data printed on the copyright page of the book) is created pre-publication based on the minimal information provided by the publisher.  Hopefully we got the cover info, title page, copyright page, table of contents, preface, and first chapter.  We did not have page 285.  If you look at our record, one of the summaries provided by the publisher says, "The new nonfiction from #1 bestselling author and popular radio and television host Glenn Beck" and the other says, "Glenn Beck provides stories of the people who built America and the people who sought to destroy it." The table of contents provides chapter titles that show no sign of fiction.*  So to say the book is "so poorly cataloged" isn't exactly correct based on what the publisher provided to LC.  It is difficult enough to catalog with minimal information and the publisher providing incorrect information will be reflected in what you see."

David Williamson
Cataloging Automation Specialist
Acquisitions and Bibliographic Access Directorate
Library of Congress
Washington, D.C. 20540

* The original e-mail from Mr. Williamson stated "non-fiction" here in error. It was corrected later by a subsequent e-mail from him. For the sake of brevity I have inserted and highlighted the correction.

End Note: I have contacted the publisher; Simon and Schuster; about this issue and as of this writing they have chosen not to respond.

"The Gift of the Magi" by O. Henry

O. Henry, along with the likes of Mark Twain, marked a new type of journalist; ones who became serious writers; a tradition which has continued to the present day. With such luminaries from Mark Twain on through to Jimmy Breslin and Norman Mailer, journalists have become, increasingly, some of the leading writers of their times. O.Henry was no exception. With his incredible feel for irony, and knowledge of human behavior, he wrote of the daily struggles which faced the generation of his time. Jim and Della are emblematic of that struggle, and the love for one another which enabled them to make it through the rough times. The irony in the story is apparent, as well as their love for one another. The illustration I have posted here is the "Adoration of the Magi" by the Italian Artist, Sandro Botticelli (1445-1510). This is a perfect Christmas story, which I have enjoyed for many years, thanks once again, to a grammar school teacher who really had a heart, and made a difference. Mrs. Denslow, this one's for you.

One dollar and eighty-seven cents. That was all. And sixty cents of it was in pennies. Pennies saved one and two at a time by bulldozing the grocer and the vegetable man and the butcher until one's cheeks burned with the silent imputation of parsimony that such close dealing implied. Three times Della counted it. One dollar and eighty- seven cents. And the next day would be Christmas.

There was clearly nothing to do but flop down on the shabby little couch and howl. So Della did it. Which instigates the moral reflection that life is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles predominating.

While the mistress of the home is gradually subsiding from the first stage to the second, take a look at the home. A furnished flat at $8 per week. It did not exactly beggar description, but it certainly had that word on the lookout for the mendicancy squad.

In the vestibule below was a letter-box into which no letter would go, and an electric button from which no mortal finger could coax a ring. Also appertaining thereunto was a card bearing the name "Mr. James Dillingham Young."

The "Dillingham" had been flung to the breeze during a former period of prosperity when its possessor was being paid $30 per week. Now, when the income was shrunk to $20, though, they were thinking seriously of contracting to a modest and unassuming D. But whenever Mr. James Dillingham Young came home and reached his flat above he was called "Jim" and greatly hugged by Mrs. James Dillingham Young, already introduced to you as Della. Which is all very good.

Della finished her cry and attended to her cheeks with the powder rag. She stood by the window and looked out dully at a gray cat walking a gray fence in a gray backyard. Tomorrow would be Christmas Day, and she had only $1.87 with which to buy Jim a present. She had been saving every penny she could for months, with this result. Twenty dollars a week doesn't go far. Expenses had been greater than she had calculated. They always are. Only $1.87 to buy a present for Jim. Her Jim. Many a happy hour she had spent planning for something nice for him. Something fine and rare and sterling--something just a little bit near to being worthy of the honor of being owned by Jim.

There was a pier-glass between the windows of the room. Perhaps you have seen a pier-glass in an $8 flat. A very thin and very agile person may, by observing his reflection in a rapid sequence of longitudinal strips, obtain a fairly accurate conception of his looks. Della, being slender, had mastered the art.

Suddenly she whirled from the window and stood before the glass. her eyes were shining brilliantly, but her face had lost its color within twenty seconds. Rapidly she pulled down her hair and let it fall to its full length.

Now, there were two possessions of the James Dillingham Youngs in which they both took a mighty pride. One was Jim's gold watch that had been his father's and his grandfather's. The other was Della's hair. Had the queen of Sheba lived in the flat across the airshaft, Della would have let her hair hang out the window some day to dry just to depreciate Her Majesty's jewels and gifts. Had King Solomon been the janitor, with all his treasures piled up in the basement, Jim would have pulled out his watch every time he passed, just to see him pluck at his beard from envy.

So now Della's beautiful hair fell about her rippling and shining like a cascade of brown waters. It reached below her knee and made itself almost a garment for her. And then she did it up again nervously and quickly. Once she faltered for a minute and stood still while a tear or two splashed on the worn red carpet.

On went her old brown jacket; on went her old brown hat. With a whirl of skirts and with the brilliant sparkle still in her eyes, she fluttered out the door and down the stairs to the street.

Where she stopped the sign read: "Mne. Sofronie. Hair Goods of All Kinds." One flight up Della ran, and collected herself, panting. Madame, large, too white, chilly, hardly looked the "Sofronie."

"Will you buy my hair?" asked Della.

"I buy hair," said Madame. "Take yer hat off and let's have a sight at the looks of it."

Down rippled the brown cascade.

"Twenty dollars," said Madame, lifting the mass with a practised hand.

"Give it to me quick," said Della.

Oh, and the next two hours tripped by on rosy wings. Forget the hashed metaphor. She was ransacking the stores for Jim's present.

She found it at last. It surely had been made for Jim and no one else. There was no other like it in any of the stores, and she had turned all of them inside out. It was a platinum fob chain simple and chaste in design, properly proclaiming its value by substance alone and not by meretricious ornamentation--as all good things should do. It was even worthy of The Watch. As soon as she saw it she knew that it must be Jim's. It was like him. Quietness and value--the description applied to both. Twenty-one dollars they took from her for it, and she hurried home with the 87 cents. With that chain on his watch Jim might be properly anxious about the time in any company. Grand as the watch was, he sometimes looked at it on the sly on account of the old leather strap that he used in place of a chain.

When Della reached home her intoxication gave way a little to prudence and reason. She got out her curling irons and lighted the gas and went to work repairing the ravages made by generosity added to love. Which is always a tremendous task, dear friends--a mammoth task.

Within forty minutes her head was covered with tiny, close-lying curls that made her look wonderfully like a truant schoolboy. She looked at her reflection in the mirror long, carefully, and critically.

"If Jim doesn't kill me," she said to herself, "before he takes a second look at me, he'll say I look like a Coney Island chorus girl. But what could I do--oh! what could I do with a dollar and eighty- seven cents?"

At 7 o'clock the coffee was made and the frying-pan was on the back of the stove hot and ready to cook the chops.

Jim was never late. Della doubled the fob chain in her hand and sat on the corner of the table near the door that he always entered. Then she heard his step on the stair away down on the first flight, and she turned white for just a moment. She had a habit for saying little silent prayer about the simplest everyday things, and now she whispered: "Please God, make him think I am still pretty."

The door opened and Jim stepped in and closed it. He looked thin and very serious. Poor fellow, he was only twenty-two--and to be burdened with a family! He needed a new overcoat and he was without gloves.

Jim stopped inside the door, as immovable as a setter at the scent of quail. His eyes were fixed upon Della, and there was an expression in them that she could not read, and it terrified her. It was not anger, nor surprise, nor disapproval, nor horror, nor any of the sentiments that she had been prepared for. He simply stared at her fixedly with that peculiar expression on his face.

Della wriggled off the table and went for him.

"Jim, darling," she cried, "don't look at me that way. I had my hair cut off and sold because I couldn't have lived through Christmas without giving you a present. It'll grow out again--you won't mind, will you? I just had to do it. My hair grows awfully fast. Say `Merry Christmas!' Jim, and let's be happy. You don't know what a nice-- what a beautiful, nice gift I've got for you."

"You've cut off your hair?" asked Jim, laboriously, as if he had not arrived at that patent fact yet even after the hardest mental labor.

"Cut it off and sold it," said Della. "Don't you like me just as well, anyhow? I'm me without my hair, ain't I?"

Jim looked about the room curiously.

"You say your hair is gone?" he said, with an air almost of idiocy.

"You needn't look for it," said Della. "It's sold, I tell you--sold and gone, too. It's Christmas Eve, boy. Be good to me, for it went for you. Maybe the hairs of my head were numbered," she went on with sudden serious sweetness, "but nobody could ever count my love for you. Shall I put the chops on, Jim?"

Out of his trance Jim seemed quickly to wake. He enfolded his Della. For ten seconds let us regard with discreet scrutiny some inconsequential object in the other direction. Eight dollars a week or a million a year--what is the difference? A mathematician or a wit would give you the wrong answer. The magi brought valuable gifts, but that was not among them. This dark assertion will be illuminated later on.

Jim drew a package from his overcoat pocket and threw it upon the table.

"Don't make any mistake, Dell," he said, "about me. I don't think there's anything in the way of a haircut or a shave or a shampoo that could make me like my girl any less. But if you'll unwrap that package you may see why you had me going a while at first."

White fingers and nimble tore at the string and paper. And then an ecstatic scream of joy; and then, alas! a quick feminine change to hysterical tears and wails, necessitating the immediate employment of all the comforting powers of the lord of the flat.

For there lay The Combs--the set of combs, side and back, that Della had worshipped long in a Broadway window. Beautiful combs, pure tortoise shell, with jewelled rims--just the shade to wear in the beautiful vanished hair. They were expensive combs, she knew, and her heart had simply craved and yearned over them without the least hope of possession. And now, they were hers, but the tresses that should have adorned the coveted adornments were gone.

But she hugged them to her bosom, and at length she was able to look up with dim eyes and a smile and say: "My hair grows so fast, Jim!"

And them Della leaped up like a little singed cat and cried, "Oh, oh!"

Jim had not yet seen his beautiful present. She held it out to him eagerly upon her open palm. The dull precious metal seemed to flash with a reflection of her bright and ardent spirit.

"Isn't it a dandy, Jim? I hunted all over town to find it. You'll have to look at the time a hundred times a day now. Give me your watch. I want to see how it looks on it."

Instead of obeying, Jim tumbled down on the couch and put his hands under the back of his head and smiled.

"Dell," said he, "let's put our Christmas presents away and keep 'em a while. They're too nice to use just at present. I sold the watch to get the money to buy your combs. And now suppose you put the chops on."

The magi, as you know, were wise men--wonderfully wise men--who brought gifts to the Babe in the manger. They invented the art of giving Christmas presents. Being wise, their gifts were no doubt wise ones, possibly bearing the privilege of exchange in case of duplication. And here I have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. O all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi.

Charles Fort - A Most Peculiar Man

Charles Hoy Fort was a most unusual man; some might even say peculiar. Either way; he made quite an impression, leaving over 60,000 written articles to the New York Public Library upon his death in 1932. He may not have been correct in most of the things he wrote about, but he was prolific!

Born in August 1874 in Albany, New York he is considered to be an American writer and researcher of anomalous phenomena. Although he was controversial; to say the least; his books are still in print and there adherents to his philosophies; even if they have largely been discredited by science. He is somewhat of an American oddity; indeed, I am writing about here, over 80 years after his death in May of 1932.

Some might say that Mr. Fort was the father of the modern American conspiracy theorists; those who believe that the government lies to the people about everything. Hmmm, there might be something to that. But Mr. Fort’s distrust seems to have originated with his stern father, who was a grocer by trade. In his autobiography he recalls several “harsh” physical punishments at the hands of his father.

As weird as some of his theories may have been, the man was literally driven, by his teen years he was already a collector of sea shells, birds, rocks, insects and anything else he could amass. And he became totally immersed in whatever he was interested in at the time. So, it is no surprise that when he turned of age he set off to see more of the world which he was so curious about.

In 1892 he left on a tour of the world, in order he claimed, to "put some capital in the bank of experience". He crossed the United States, went through Scotland and England before setting off to Africa. It was there that fate made its appearance and he took ill, forcing him to return home.

But even that turned to his advantage when he reconnected with Anna Filing, a woman whom he had known previously and was now engaged as his nurse. They were married in 1896 and the couple set off for England shortly after that. It is of particular note that she was 4 years his senior and not very well read. Her chief interests seem to have been silent films and parakeets! While in London they lived a rocky life financially as he struggled with writing short stories to fund his research into just about anything which interested him.

His chief bit of renown came from his investigation in “spontaneous eruptions” of people bursting into flames. Although they were burned to a crisp, their clothes were always unharmed; which ruled out lightning. In the 1890’s and on through the early 20^th century this was a common occurrence; which has never really been explained beyond the fact that science wasn’t able to answer the question at the time. So, you have to wonder…

His Uncle died in 1916, leaving him enough money to quit working; if you can call what he did working; and devote his time to writing full time. The efforts produced 10 books, one of which actually got published. It was a story about life in the tenements. It was not very well received. He then turned to science.

He was mainly concerned with two questions; the first was about Martians. He believed that we were puppets of the Martians and that they were actually controlling us from space. His other big thing was the existence of a lost civilization that lived at the South Pole. He believed that there was an opening there which allowed them to exit the interior of the earth. He believed that they were plotting to take over. It’s interesting to note that there are some UFO buffs who believe that flying saucers come from that location; thus combining Fort’s two theories into one.

From this theory he was encouraged by writer Theodore Dreiser, to write “The Book of the Damned” in 1919, which would cement his name into literary history. If not for that work I would probably not be writing of him now. The book is a compendium of all his unproven research. Unproven is used here in two ways. The first is obvious; he never proved any of his theories to be true. The second meaning is better; science had never actually proven him to be wrong.  

Aside from a return visit to London, where he lived from 1924 to 1926, he spent most of the rest of his life in the Bronx. He was a lively and witty character, and sought out by literary contemporaries such as Dreiser. This group of friends rotated meeting at one another’s apartments for coffee and robust discussions about everything under the Sun. When their spouses tired of the meetings night after night, they would adjourn to local neighborhood taverns.

During this period he found himself to have an actual following of people who admired him for any number of reasons. Some believed his theories; while others merely found him to be engaging company. Although he suffered from poor health he had a routine of sorts. Each day he would take the subway to the New York Public Library. He would buy a bunch of newspapers and clip articles from them, writing notes about them all. He needled anything which claimed to be scientific, and then gave his own explanation. These articles comprise much of the 60,000 items he left to the library upon his death.

Say what you will about the guy, he had the courage of his convictions; eschewing doctors and the medicines which might have alleviated some of his suffering. He collapsed on May 3, 1932 and was taken to the hospital. His publisher came to visit him and let him know that his latest book was to be published shortly. He died a few hours later from what was probably a form of leukemia. He was a most peculiar man.

"South of East Jesus" by G. Bernstein (2014)

The cover of Glenn Bernstein’s newest novel, “South of East Jesus”, speaks volumes about the dual nature of human beings. The silhouette depicts a man and a woman; one in portrayed in light; and the other in darkness. You can see through them both. Even the title contains a message of sorts; as if we are all a bit shy of the mark when it comes to perfection.

I don’t know whether my assessment has any validity to it, or if I have conjured up this explanation as a result of Mr. Bernstein’s tale, which explores these very questions. He does so through the character of Renny, a woman who finds herself alone and pregnant after the suicide of her husband Parker.

When an emergency terminates the pregnancy of one of her twins, Renny finds herself in the care of Dr. Thomas Ryan, a widower, and a man with a reputation to uphold. Renny, on the other hand, has nothing to lose and everything to gain as she finds herself drawn to this kind, empathetic professional.

But lines get blurred when simple acts of kindness become more than simple, and Renny stokes the fires of passion with her every move. Soon, they both face the biggest single dilemma of their separate lives. What happens as a result of having crossed those lines becomes something which consumes them both.

Steamy dialogue and fast paced writing make this a compelling read for fans of romance novels. I could hardly keep the book out of my wife’s hands long enough to read it myself, without searching for it each time I went to pick it up. This is Mr. Bernstein’s 2^nd book, and I would suspect that it will not be his last.

__________________________________________

Mickey Rooney - RIP

Word just came in that Mickey Rooney; iconic force of entertainment; has passed away at age 93. An accomplished professional in all aspects of show business, his passing represents yet another loss to the golden days of vaudeville, radio, movies and television. 

We shall not see the likes of him again; which makes you tube all the more worthwhile. For a good example of his powerful dramatic acting skills hit the following link;

http://robertwilliamsofbrooklyn.blogspot.com/2013/02/the-comedian-with-mel-torme-and-mickey.html

"Centerburg Tales" by Robert McCloskey (1951)

This is the 2^nd of the Homer Price books by Robert McCloskey. The book opens in Centerburg, the town which sits just a couple of miles from Homer’s home at the intersection of two highways. Mr. McCloskey has a way of getting right to the heart of the matter when it comes to children’s things, and he starts off with a chapter called "The Hide –A-Ride".

The kids in town all know and love Grandpa Hercules; whom they call Uncle Herc for short; and he is a big part of their lives as they go about their daily lives. He spins stories while they spin tops, and he manages to infuse all of his tales; true or not; with a bit of local history. In this chapter he spins an unlikely, though wonderful tale about a ride he helped to build for the Indian natives way back when.

That endeavor involved a barrel rolling down hill, which had an intoxicating effect on the Indians, but was bad for the barrels. So, Grandpa Herc invented the Hide-A Ride, which was a mechanized way for the barrel to be spun without destroying it each time. It’s kind of a Rube Goldberg contraption, with a wonderful illustration by the author for the more unimaginative. This story would probably be politically incorrect by today’s standard, illustrating just how “enlightened”; or thin skinned; we have become.

In "Sparrow Courthouse" the author spins the yarn about the time the town of Sparrow got their days and nights mixed up by following the time on the Courthouse clock without question. A stranger passing through realizes that the problem is being caused by the sparrows sitting on the hands of the clock, making time move slower in a sense. By the time the stranger is able to convince the town of the cause, they have been living night by day, and day by night. (This story was written at the beginning of the HUACC hearings and I can’t help but wonder if this is a sly poke at blind loyalty.)

Grandpa Herc has had many experiences, all of which he eagerly shares with the kids of Centerburg. Like the time he went hunting for gold in California. His adventures there with Hopper McThud are so enthralling that at one point Grandpa has the crowd so mesmerized that they are all looking at the luncheonette ceiling as he describes a cliff hundreds of feet in the air. This guy is some story teller!

One day Grandpa gets a package from Gravity-Bitties, a breakfast food for champion jumpers. This cereal is so potent that it comes with a chunk of lead to put inside your coat to keep you from jumping too far. But Grandpa is wiser than all of the advertisements and proves his wisdom by not eating the Gravity-Bitties and jumping far anyway. His point was proving that the advertising people don’t know what they are talking about. Heck, he fed the cereal to the chickens!

From Homers experiments at home to the goings on at the barbershop, these stories are emblematic of what life was like in the years after the Second World War. In so many ways we were at the acme of our strength and influence as a nation. Socially there were still kinks to be worked out in the areas of Civil Rights and poverty, but for the most part these was the best of times. And in Robert McCloskey’s books about Homer Price those times are palpable.

"Homer Price" by Robert McCloskey (1948)

I was unaware of the wonderful, wacky world of Homer Price until Glen Slater, a fellow blogger from New York City, called my attention to his book “Homer Price” last week. What a break for me! This book, by author/illustrator Robert McCloskey is nothing less than Dr. Seuss on steroids.

Homer lives just outside the town of Centerburg, or as the author puts it, “where Route 56 meets 56A.” But most of his family and friends live in Centerburg itself, which gives the author plenty of room to work with as Homer gets involved in a myriad of adventures.

From his home bedroom “workshop”, where he builds radios, to the new suburban housing development being built, this book is representative of life in the late 1940’s, just after the Second World War and the beginning of the most prosperous time in American history.

Homer has a pet raccoon named Aroma, which reminded me of Sterling North’s award winning book “Rascal” which won the Newberry Award in 1963. I have no doubt that Mr. North read this book sometime previous to writing his. Together, Homer and Aroma are able to solve a robbery with Aroma using his most potent weapon to nab the culprits.

From his relatives to some of the town’s more odd denizens, Homer is always at the center of something in Centerburg. For instance, there is the tale of the Mystery Yarn, which has Homer helping his Uncle Telly create a huge ball of yarn. This in itself is of no particular interest until you involve the Sheriff; who is also a string saver like Uncle Telly; and then the Town Fair as the backdrop for a contest between the two. They are going to unwind their balls of string to settle; once and for all; which is the most tightly wound of the two. Not the Sheriff and Uncle Telly; but the ball of string.

Then there is the day that Homer goes to the movies to see the latest installment of the series about Super-Duper, a superhero drawn along the lines of Superman. Super Duper is even on hand to greet his fans. When asked to fly, he excuses himself by insisting that he doesn't have time. After the film is over Homer is on the way home with his friends when Super Duper comes up from behind and passes their horse drawn wagon with a SWOOSH. A few miles down the road the boys discover their super hero in a ditch, having driven his car off the road. After seeing that he cannot lift the car by himself,he boys use the horse to pull him back on the road.

Back in town, the grateful Super Duper gives the boys a complete set of his comic books as a reward. But, having seen that Super Duper is really just human after all, Homer decides that by trading those comics before word gets around about the all too human super hero, he may just be able to exact a bit of revenge on his friend Skinny for trading him a bicycle horn which didn't work, for a bugle.

The book also calls to mind the works of Booth Tarkington, specifically the Penrod series. Those books were a fairly accurate reflection of a boy’s life in the early years of the 20^th century. This book does the same thing, only 40 years later.

From donut machines to the post war housing development, this book is a nostalgic look at a boy’s life in the late 1940’s. We had just won the biggest war in history, and life was continually getting better and better for the inhabitants of America. And Robert McCloskey’s  Centerburg is a slightly off kilter version of those times.

This was a delightful book to read. Thanks, Glen! You can follow Glen Slater on his blog, Stickball Hero, located  at;

http://stickballhero79.wordpress.com/2014/01/

"Let No Man Write My Epitaph" with Shelley Winters, Burl Ives and Ella Fitzgerald (1960)

In this searing sequel to “Knock on Any Door” the residents of a Chicago slum building band together in an effort to keep musician Nick Romano from becoming just like his father, who has been sentenced to death in the electric chair.

Superb acting by both Burl Ives, as Judge Sullivan, and Shelley Winters as  Nellie Romano; Nick’s mother; make this movie sizzle. The subject matter was pretty raw for the time. Sex, drugs and murder align in harmony to give the viewer a look at life on the lower levels of society, along with a rough idea of just how hard it can be to break the cycle of poverty and ignorance. Like I said; pretty raw material for its time.

Nick Romano, played by James Darren, is utterly convincing in his role as the son at risk. Willard Motley's novel shines in a cast which includes both Ricardo Montalban and the legendary Jean Seberg.

The acting may seem restrained on the surface, but isn’t that what we all do with our emotions in real life? Restrain them? The cinema photography of the urban neighborhood presents a close up view of the people who inhabit the gritty world of poverty. This lends credence to Mr. Darren’s performance as the struggling youth, looking to break free from the cycle into which he was born. The shadow of his father’s fate looms over him like a weight.

Ironically, while trying to protect her son from the ravages of ruin, it is Ms. Winter’s character who finds herself enslaved to heroin and the dealer who provides the drug. Her son is caught between breaking free and extracting justice from the dealer, played by Ricardo Montablan. Who will save him from the same fate as his father? Will he survive to live his dreams of playing the piano and marrying his girlfriend, Barbara Holloway, played by Jean Seberg?

The most astounding performances in this film are by Shelley Winters and a young Mr. Darren as her son, especially in the scene concerning her drug use. This scene is still played out in hundreds of lives daily, making the movie even more timeless. Throw in Ella Fitzgerald for some dramatic flair and this movie is one you will remember forever. I first saw it on; you guessed it; WOR-TV in New York City as a kid. You can watch it here; just hit the link below.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Po9vMncBBoQ

"Hey, Boo: Harper Lee and To Kill a Mockingbird" (2011)

If you have never read “To Kill a Mockingbird” by Harper Lee then skip this film. It will not be as meaningful if you have not read the book which spawned this wonderful documentary look behind one of the most powerful books ever filmed, and the remarkable woman who penned it.

Through archival footage of New York City in the late 1950”s, and also photos of the small Alabama town where Ms. Harper grew up, the film tells the story of how the book came to be written, and the two remarkable people who made it possible.

It was Christmastime 1956 when Ms. Lee arrived in New York City to visit her friends Joy and Michael Brown. She had been working as an airline reservation clerk and writing sketches of the people she knew back home. These sketches tremendously impressed both Joy and Michael who were fellow transplants form the South. Believing in the integrity of her work they proposed to her that she should remain in New York with them for one year in order to write the book they knew she had within her. That was their Christmas present to her. She accepted the offer and “Atticus” was born.

The initial printing was 5,000 copies, which scared everyone except the publisher. By 1960 the book was released and the awards began to flow in. The book garnered the Pulitzer Prize in 1961 and was made into the classic film starring Gregory Peck in 1962. The film, just as the book, was an instant hit and is considered one of the finest contemporary American classics ever written.

With commentary about the book from such luminaries as Andrew Young, Richard Russo, Roseanne Cash and Oprah Winfrey, the film tells of the impact this book had on the Civil Rights Movement from the perspective of the people who lived through the Jim Crow years down South. When she wrote the book, Ms. Lee had no idea of the impact, and change, that her book would engender.

Sometimes, when explored through the eyes of a child, the image of what we see around us becomes clearer. That is what happened with “To Kill a Mockingbird”. When the nation looked at the plight of Tom Robinson, and then walked around in his skin; as Atticus would say; it became harder and harder to look in the mirror. Though Ms. Lee never wrote another book, “To Kill a Mockingbird” will stand the test of time for the gem that it is.

"Foyle's War" with Michael Kitchen (2002)

Michael Kitchen is everything you’d look for in a Police Investigator as he takes on the role of Chief Inspector Christopher Foyle in this multi-part PBS mini-series from 2002.  As the war with Germany wages on the other side of the channel, he is itching to get into the fight. That is, until he realizes the value he still holds in protecting the home front, where criminal schemes abound. With Germany only 30 miles away and advancing through Belgium; cornering the British at Dunkirk; there are people at home who would rather capitulate than fight. It becomes up to Chief Inspector Foyle, along with his Army Assistant, “Sam”, played by the lovely Honeysuckle Weeks, to solve these crimes, which range from outright murder, to sabotage.

This is the first UK edition, which is about 400 minutes long, spread over 4 episodes in Northern England. The stories are somewhat reminiscent of Agatha Christie, with an underplayed sense of mystery. Inspector Foyle and “Sam” are tasked with solving some very unusual crimes, even while dealing with their own personal problems. The Inspector is a widower, with a son who is joining the RAF. “Sam” is from a more rural area and her Vicar father wants her home.

From the very first episode, “The German Woman”, the viewer is drawn into the beautiful scenery of the English countryside, which serves as a placid background for the tumult of the war. When the German born wife of a local landowner is killed while horseback riding, suspicion falls on everyone in the town of Sussex. But careful sleuthing on the part of Inspector Foyle and “Sam” leave them to a corrupt system of evading the draft. The suspicion for the motive then falls on the dead woman’s husband as the cause of the murder. But that still leaves open the question of why his wife was murdered, and by who?

In “The White Feather” a young girl is accused of cutting the telegraph wires from the local military base; a crime which could see her hung. Although she does not deny committing the crime, the question still remains as to why, and for whom, she has placed herself in such jeopardy.

In the third story of the series, “A Lesson in Murder”, a conscientious objector dies while in police custody. Mystery abounds in this case, where class and privilege clash with the responsibilities of the ordinary man.

In the final episode of the 1^st season, when Inspector Foyle and “Sam” are confronted with the stabbing death of a man in his home during a bombing raid , they find a statuette. That statuette brings them into contact with the curator of the local museum, who is tasked with packing away all of the art treasures under his domain for safe keeping.  But some things just don’t add up, and the foolproof scheme to keep the statuette hidden is foiled by the combined efforts of Inspector Doyle and “Sam”, as well as the occurrence of the air raid.

Filmed with great attention to detail, the countryside seems to leap from the screen with each story. The sets, and the wardrobes are both impeccable, giving the stories a true flavor of the times in which they take place. The stories were written by Anthony Horowitz and the filming was directed by Jeremy Silberston and David Thacker. The whole series is exactly what we have come to expect of the BBC; excellent writing and storylines which both inform the viewer, as well as make them think.

"The Bridge Over the River Kwai" by Pierre Boulle

I have been on somewhat of an Alec Guinness kick lately. Last night I watched the film version of this extraordinary book for about the hundredth time in my life. Last week I re-read the book. Although the two versions differ from one another, as well as reality, they both never fail to disappoint me. But, when I went to do a review of the book, and movie, I found that I have already reviewed them here in tandem about 2 years ago! So, I simply decided to post a reprise of that review. Funny thing is, that after all these years, I just realized the book is titled "The Bridge OVER the River Kwai", while the film is called "The Bridge ON the River Kwai." Now there's a puzzle to look into...

As a young boy I saw the film version of this book with Alec Guinness playing the part of the British Colonel Nicholson. It was an exciting movie but I was a little bit puzzled at the time as to why a British soldier would so eagerly build a bridge for the Japanese. As I said, I was a young boy and my understanding of some things was not yet well formed.

The book, written by Pierre Boulle; who by the way also wrote "Planet of the Apes”; sets the record straight on the first page. He describes the mentality of the Japanese Colonel Saito as being the same as that of British Colonel Nicholson. They are both obsessed with "saving face". Having "spilled the beans" of the message on the first page does nothing to detract from the book. Rather it compels you to keep reading in order to justify this assertion.

The story is of two men and their clash of wills, even as they begin to realize that the gulf that separates them only underscores their similarities. They are both the end products of false pride. They are both stubbornly rooted in their own beliefs of superiority over the other.

The main thrust of the plot concerns the building of a bridge over the River Kwai. This bridge will carry trainloads of war materials to the Japanese in the isolated areas of Burma. Colonel Saito is under tremendous pressure to get the job completed. Construction on the bridge has begun with almost no progress being made as the prisoners do everything in their power to sabotage the project. It appears that they are happily succeeding in their efforts.

At this point Colonel Nicholson and his men are taken prisoner and marched into camp. They are then tasked with completion of the bridge. The Japanese Colonel, Saito is determined to bend the prisoners to his will and get the bridge built. To do less would be a loss of face. Colonel Nicholson, on the other hand, is hell bent on showing Colonel Saito that the Japanese are not capable of building a bridge without the British engineering and supervising the work. And although it is against the Geneva Convention to have prisoners work on military projects, Colonel Nicholson’s' pride makes him an unwitting accomplice to the Japanese goal. His men are less than pleased. Some think him outright insane.

Unknown to Colonel Nicholson is that word has reached the British Command of his actions. A Commando team is dispatched to destroy the bridge. By this time construction is going well and the bridge is almost complete. The first train is headed towards the River Kwai and Colonel Nicholson is ready to celebrate his "victory" over the Japanese with the successful opening of the bridge. He is flush with pride over this accomplishment.

While all this has been going on, the Commandos have infiltrated the area and have wired the bridge, planning to destroy it even as the first train crosses. As Colonel Nicholson inspects the bridge he notices the wire and races to save his beloved bridge. In a gripping climax the Commandos are forced to kill some of the prisoners as one of the Commandos races to stop Colonel Nicholson from disarming the explosives. When the Commando is killed Colonel Nicholson returns to reality and with the sounds of the locomotive crossing the bridge overhead he sets off the charge himself while exclaiming, "What have I done?"

A pulse pounding story based on fact, both the book and the movie keep you on the edge of your seat. The book underscores one of the worst of the Seven Deadly Sins- Pride.

An interesting after note to this book is the historical aspect. In real life this story actually happened- with one notable exception. The British never did destroy the bridge and it not only served the Japanese for the duration of the war, but parts of it are still in use today.

The movie was released in 1957 and garnered 7 Academy Awards including Best Picture. With flawless direction by David Lean and a cast including Sessue Hayakawa as Colonel Saito and Alec Guinness as Colonel Nicholson, the movie, as well as the book, are both excellent and have long been favorites of mine.

"Confessions of a Wandering Man" by Louis L'Amour

This book, by one of America's most prolific authors, was first published in 1989. This is my third time reading it. Louis L'Amour is best known for his paperback Western novels, which can be found on any ship at sea, or on any military base in the world. They are easily read, packed with excitement, and the good guy always wins. I never liked them much, picking them up only when nothing else was available to read. Still, the author himself was intriquing to me. He had, apparently, done all of the things he wrote about in his books. That really interested me. The idea that his fiction was part fact made me very interested in the man himself.

Not just a writer of Western novels, Mr. L'Amour also wrote short stories and some poetry and non-fiction. His memoir is one of my all time favorites. In it he recounts most of his adventures as a seaman, rodeo rider, and hobo. There is even a fascinating section on the difference betwen hobo's, tramps and bums.

At age 17 he was in Singapore while his high school class was holding graduation in Jamestown, North Dakota. The education which Mr. L'Amour received aboard ship, in lieu of high school, was to prove more valuable to him than any classroom could have ever been.

This book was reprinted in 2008 and contains some new photographs not seen before. They offer even more insight into the world of the author. The list of books and plays that he read while traveling, also give the reader a unique perspective on what influenced Mr. L'Amour's own writing, beyond his travel experiences.

But, the most important lesson impatred by the author in this memoir is that education is available everywhere, everyday, in some form. All you have to do is reach out for it and it can be yours.

"Redemption" by Howard Fast

Howard Fast was one of America's most prolific authors. And the range of his work is truly phenomenal, encompassing Fiction, History and Religion. From the first time I read "April Morning", in 5th grade, the story of a young boy on the morning that the American Revolution began at Lexington and Concord, I was a fan. And over the years, although I have drifted almost entirely into non-fiction, his books have continued to draw me back as he explores new topics and interests. Hey, this is the guy who wrote "Spartacus."

This book, "Redemption", was written in 1999, just a few years before his death in March of 2003, at age 89. It is remarkably candid in it's exploration of the accidental relationship of Ike Goldman, a professor emeritus at Columbia University, and Elizabeth Hopper, a woman whom he meets while driving across the George Washington Bridge at about 3 AM. She is standing at the rail on the walkway, ready to jump. He, a widower of several years, is returning from a gathering of old cronies, talking law, politics, and smoking cigars. She is the battered and abused wife of a Wall Street tycoon, who will be found murdered very shortly after they meet. And the murder is committed with Ike's long forgotten pistol, which he hasn't seen in years.

This leaves two obvious suspects, both with ample motive, opportunity and time to commit the murder of the late Mr. Hopper. But is circumstancial evidence ever enough to be sure? Especially when it is a capital crime? As a professor of contract law, Ike must learn, with the aid of a former student turned defense counsel, to navigate the pathways of the justice system rather than the board room.

Mr. Fast did not just write simple novels. They can be taken at "face" value and make great reading. But the secret to his long and varied suceess as a writer has always been his ability to educate the reader along the way. The story is just a vehicle. The plot here encompasses Womens Right's, Faith, and the possibilities of fate accidently taking hold in one's life.

With a wedding between 79 year old Ike, and 47 year old Liz in the balance, the story takes on a whole new dimension, as Ike struggles with the seeming absurdity of love with a younger woman. Will his judgement, and integrity, be tempered by his emotions? Or will the simple logic of truth, which he has always taught, hold sway?

With supreme character development, as expected of Mr. Fast, the book takes on an urgency that will keep you turning pages. The court trial and jury summations are spot on to real life, leaving the reader just as unsure as in an actual courtroom, when the jury is really out.

Mr. Fast passed away in 2003, at age 89. He wrote until the end. I wish I had had the opportunity to thank him for the treasure of literature he has left behind.

"Tales of the Black Widowers" by Isaac Asimov

When this book first came out in 1974 I was blown away. I have always been impressed by authors who are able to break out of their respective modes. In this vein, H.G. Wells comes to mind. From his "History of the World" to his fantastic fiction, some of which would someday come to pass, he managed to span the worlds of science fiction and real life. And we are the richer for it. Isaac Asimov is an author in the same vein.

From his well known works of Science Fiction, and on through to his Autobiographies, his writing knew no bounds. And when he delved into mystery, well, we were all in for a treat.

This book, the first of 6, deals with a group of elderly gentlemen, who gather once a month, at a restaurant, to solve any current mystery that may plague one of it's members. The only rule is that the crime must be solved that evening, at the table, using only logic and a knowledge of trivia.

With the success of this first book, Mr. Asimov launched a series that eventually came to comprise the 6 volumes of these most unusual stories. In the later books, members bring "guests" with them to the dinners. These guests are a combination of people, who like the Black Widowers, have mysteries of their own, which they need help to solve. And, of course, there are a few skeptics along the way.

A fascinating departure from one of America's greatest Science Fiction writers, this book, along with the 5 subsequent volumes, kept me company many a night when I first read them. I'm not sure what happened to the other 5 volumes, but this one is still with me. Two of the others were lent out, while two others succumbed to the ravages of more than 3 decades. As for the sixth and final volume, I'm thinking of hosting a dinner to try and solve the mystery of it's disappearance.

"Bubble" a Steven Soderbergh Film with Dustin Ashley and Debbie Doebereiner

Kyle and Martha work in a doll factory. He is a young twenty something, while she is an older mid thirties, overweight woman. He lives with his mom in a trailer, while she lives with her disabled father and cares for him. Kyle is aimlessly looking for something to define his life. Martha has defined her life by the rut she has found herself in. Each morning she picks Kyle up and they drive to work. At night, the routine is reversed as they drive back to their respective homes.

When Rose, a twenty something, divorced young woman, comes to work at the doll factory, Martha's world is threatened. There is an attraction between Rose, who is not all she appears to be, and Kyle. Martha is the proverbial third wheel. Her pain is palpable when Rose asks her to babysit her daughter while she goes on a date with Kyle. Martha is not happy.

When Rose and Kyle return, Kyle does not stay, the situation is too awkward. While Martha and Rose are talking, Rose's ex shows up, demanding that she return some money and belongings that she has stolen. Only the presence of Martha keeps the situation from turning violent. Meantime, Kyle has arrived back home and discovered that his money, which he kept in a dresser drawer, is missing.

When Rose is found dead, strangled while her daughter slept in the next room, suspicion at first falls on the ex. But soon Martha's world begins to crumble around her as she becomes the suspect in, and is finally charged with, the murder of Rose.

A masterfully directed film, with a slow pace that mimicks reality, this movie is engrossing in it's minimal approach to what should be high drama. The superbly underplayed performances by Debbie Doebereiner, Dustin Ashley and Misty Wilkins are perfectly suited to Steven Soderbergh's direction. This is an unusual and haunting film.

"Rain Gods" by James Lee Burke

I don't read much fiction; outside of classical fiction, which always has a deeper meaning than the story being told on the surface. Like "Moby Dick", classical fiction can be read on several different levels. Most contemporary fiction lacks that depth. So, I generally confine myself to non-fiction. But when James Lee Burke writes fiction it is always a current and accurate assessment of what is really going on in the world. He just changes the names.

If you have never read any of Mr. Burkes previous novels, this one is a good place to begin.To establish his bona-fides, think of Alec Baldwind with Teri Hatcher and Mary Stuart Masterston in "Heavens's Prisoners", the book and film which have both been reviewed here. Writing with an almost lyrical cadence, and with an insight into the personal demons that dog us all, Mr. Burke creates characters who are so vividly real they actually feel menacing. In "Rain Gods", the author draws you into the seamy world of drug smuggling and the forced sex trade. Nothing is what it seems and all real motives are obscurred.

His previous works have largely concentrated on New Orleans and former Detective Dave Robicheaux, his struggles with alcholol, women and his own inner demons. In this book he takes on the new character of Texas Lawman Hackberry Holland, who, along with Deputy Pam Tibbs, find themselves in the middle of a Russian syndicate running Chinese prostitutes across the border while smuggling heroin in their stomachs. When the ballons in their bodies begin to burst the girls are all systematically killed by a man known as the Preacher.

All of the characters in this book will be recognizable to you if you have spent any time at all on the seamier side of things. And if not, you will be fascinated by what really goes on out there. From the evil doings of the Preacher, to the innocence of Vikki and her ne'er do well boyfriend Pete, a confused and wounded Iraqi veteran, these characters are as real as you can write them. His Deputy, Pam, is as sensitive as she is tough when it comes to protecting the Sheriff. Mr. Burke is a potent and skillfull writer with a talent for creating characters that cannot be dismissed or ignored.

With one witness to the crime, and a whole lot of people double crossing one another, this book will keep you reading, and guessing, right up until the end. One of the most engaging qualities of Mr. Burkes' writing is his deep insights into the human soul. Take this paragraph, all by itself, out of context from the book;

"He had learned long ago as a Navy Corpsmen that Morpheus did not bestow his gifts easily or cheaply. The sleep that most people yearned for rarely came this side of the grave, except perhaps to the very innocent or to those willing to mortgage tomorrow for tonight. Tying off a vein, watching the blood rise inside a hypodermic needle, staining a mint-bruised mug of crushed ice with four fingers of Jack Daniel's were all guaranteed to work. But the cost meant taking up residence in a county no reasonable person ever wanted to enter."

You can't write like without having been there. This book reads like a film. It's simply that fluid. And along the way Mr. Burke always manages to drop in some history and psychology along with a mind bending adventure that is often very close to the stories behind today's headlines. This is another triumph for James Lee Burke and the reader.

"Goodbye Mr. Chips" with Robert Donat and Greer Garson

I have to confess that this movie has always been a favorite of mine, mainly due to the personality of Mr. Chips, which in my earlier years, reflected my own lack of confidence and shyness. And like Mr. Chips, I have required time and patience to overcome these obstacles.

This movie, like so many others, begins at the end. It is 1937, and Mr. Chips is instructed by his physician not to attend Graduation ceremonies at Brookfield, an upper crust English boarding school, for the first time in 57 years, due to his health. Naturally he attends at the last possible moment before retiring to his cottage, where he falls asleep in front of the fire, reminiscing about his life as a teacher, and later, Headmaster of Brookfield. The rest of the movie is a flashback of his life at Brookfield, from his first days as a novice teacher until his final days as the most beloved and respected of his peers.

When he first arrives at Brookfield he is unsure of how to proceed. For awhile it looks as though he has chosen the wrong profession for a shy and gentle man. His first days as a new Master are an exercise in futility. But time wills out and he slowly becomes an object of affection to his students.

When his German colleague takes him home for the holidays, Mr. Chips is transformed in many ways. He goes hiking in the mountains and gets stuck in the fog, forcing him to wait it out alone. Hearing a woman's voice calling out, he begins a perilous climb in search of the woman he assumes to be stranded. The woman turns out to be Katherine, an Englishwoman played by Greer Garson in her first screen role, for which she received an Oscar Nomination. She is the exact opposite of Mr. Chips, modern and outgoing. She even rides a bicycle! They spend the evening on the mountain waiting for the fog to lift. They become close quite quickly due to the anonymity provided by the fog and being so far away from the real world down below. Their affection for one another is palpable, but Chips dares not act upon his feelings, fearing rejection and humiliation. Actually, until he meets Katherine he is called by his surname of Mr. Chippings. It is Katherine who renames him "Chips."

When he and his German colleague Max, played by Paul Henreid, continue on their walking tour of the mountains they encounter Katherine and her lady companion once again. They become inseperable for the remainder of the trip, although Chips is still too "proper" to make his feelings known to this forward thinking woman. Indeed, it is she who engineers his asking her to dance on their last night together. And at the train station, while saying goodbye, she kisses him goodbye. To his way of thinking he is now engaged! Katherine has successfully maneuvered him into a de-facto proposal of marriage.

When Chips arrives back at Brookfield, his bride becomes the object of curiosity and attention at the all male school. His students are simply shocked that he has a wife at all, while his bachelor peers are in awe at the beauty she brings to the school. They cannot understand how the shy and uncertain Chips could have attained this beautiful woman for a bride.

His marriage marks a wonderful change in his life. Katherine has the boys over for tea and becomes a part of the school. She helps Chips bring a new way of thinking and teaching to the institution. When she passes away during childbirth,on April Fools day, along with the baby, Mr. Chips is left alone once again. It is almost as if fate is mocking him. But the lessons he has learned about taking chances and looking at things in a different light, endear him to both students and faculty.

When the First World War breaks out he watches as several of his students and colleagues march off to war, some never to return. When he reads out the name of Max, the German Professor, who had returned to his country at the outbreak of the war, along with the names of the English dead, the students, and the viewer, cannot escape the message that all lives hold value, even the lives of "so-called" enemies.

As a result of the shortage of manpower due to the war, Mr. Chips is finally made Headmaster, a position he has dreamt about for the last 50 years. When he finally retires and passes away, it is with contentment. He has tasted of love and left his mark on several generations of young men, who are better off for his having taught them.

This movie is a gem. A more poignant film would be hard to come by. I have never read the book, written by James Hilton, actually I have never even seen a copy of one. But I will be looking for it at the library, and reviewing it here. This was a wonderful viewing experience which I did not want to end.

Decoding "The Lost Symbol" by Simon Cox

This book was a surprise. And a pleasant one at that. I expected it to be a book dedicated to debunking any misinformation found in Dan Browns new book "The Lost Symbol". But it's not that at all.

It is, instead, a pleasant companion to have while reading the other. My wife has the Dan Brown book and is looking forward to reading it. We will invariably end up discussing some of the history it refers to. She will also have questions on the background of the Masonic stuff. Usually she asks me and I tell her what I know on the subject or just google it. Now I can just peek at my little book and she will think I'm a genius!(Thanks Mr. Cox!)

The book is carefully researched and contains some illustrations, which makes for a really interesting read all on it's own- even without reading the Dan Brown novel. If you have any interest in the history of the Masonic Lodges and the symbolisms contained in our Great Seal of the United States, this book will be of great interest to you as an introduction to those topics.

I must stress, again, that the book is NOT a vehicle to debunk anything in Dan Browns new novel. If anything, I think it will enhance the readers experience should they choose to utilize it. A very coherent work by an accomplished Egyptologist.