No comments about Notes of a War Correspondent.

2 comments about A Good Life: Newspapering and Other Adventures.

1. I read this Ben Bradlee's memoir after I had read his boss Katherine Graham's 642-page grossly wordy "A Personal History." It didn't take me long to realize that "A Good Life" is a work of a good editor. His writing is concise and well focused without trying to get into excessive details, often only to bore readers, as both his boss and Maggie Thatcher successfully did with their auto-biographies. He's also so honest and candite about his personal life, including that of between the sheets.
   When you are approaching 80, what's he got to lose, I guess.
   For a non-native English speaking reader like me, it is also easy to read with plain and casual vocabulary and expressions. It almost reads as if the whole book was dictated. If you read All The President's Men, Final Days and A Personal History and enjoyed them, A Good Life is a must read to complete your Watergate experience.



2. I first heard the name Ben Bradlee while watching "All the President's Men" in 11th grade history class. I'm a big fan of Watergate and all its intricacies, so I bought the book. It really surprised me. Being an autobiography, I wasn't expecting much, but this is truly a good book. Bradlee shares with us his life in full...his ups and downs...loves and lost loves. He also gives a more personal account of JFK. His devotion to and love for journalism is something that should be applauded...and copied. This book shows that there are some people out there who still believe in publishing good, honest news. If you want to read a good book about a great newpaperman, this is the one to read.

1 comments about The Kindness of Strangers: The Autobiography.

1. I am ashamed to say that I actually found this book in my office drawer, a parting souvenir from my predecessor and I thought to myself "who the hell is Kate Adie?" The back cover gave me all the initial information I needed. Beautifully written with a wit that left me chuckling on more than one occassion, the book is a testament to Adie's own winning personality as well as to the changing attitudes of society and the "media industry" to gender in the work place. I think that some of the British humor and references were lost on me at times as I was left with the notion that a certain line or anecdote would certainly be funny if I knew the person or the incident it was referring to. Nevertheless, that didn't stop me from enjoying the book, which unlike most autobiographies is presented with much humility and insight, leaving you wanting to be Kate Adie's friend just because you are guaranteed to laugh and learn at the same time.

4 comments about Life in a putty knife factory.

1. Smith, H. Allen (Harry Allen), 1907-1976.
   Age of the tail [by] H. Allen Smith. Illustrated by Leo Hershfield.
   1955

   You are missing too many of H. Allen Smith's books. The Age of the Tail is one of his most bizzar and funniest books. In the Age of the Tail, humanity wakes up one morning having sprouted prehensile monkey tails. Mr. Smith dutifully tracks the social impact of this turn of evolution including changes in clothing and social custom.

   Why mention this book here? Well, I hope that Amazon will go over the Library of Congress catalogue and list all of Mr. Smith's books. My parents had several of his slim hard back books one of which was this somewhat outrageous book. If Amazon decides to list it, then I may be able to order a copy for myself. This book is a must read for those who enjoy H. Allen Smith books.




2. H. Allen Smith was one of the funniest writers of the first half of the twentieth century.

   He wrote about ordinary life, his ordinary life that is, in a collection of vignettes about life, the newspaper racket, and show biz. His wry voice still tickles the funny bone long after the formerly prominent of the day have faded beyond obscurity.




3. I've read this -- as well as everything else the late author wrote. He's a forgotten treasure, who belongs, in his own way, with Benchley, Thurber, Perelman and the rest. I strongly recommend this book, even if you have to browbeat the publisher into republishing.



4. Smith has a gift for sharing that will keep you laughing and intrigued throughout the entire course of this book. Highly recommended for anyone that loves to read and would like a peek into the past.

No comments about Low Man on a Totem Pole.

5 comments about Hillary's Secret War: The Clinton Conspiracy to Muzzle Internet Journalists.

1. Now why would it be that there are no reviews on this page? For some reason the edition of this book with numerous informative reviews is not available. Now one could get the impression that Amazon is hiding these reviews at someone's request! If you google your search you will nonetheless find the reviews you are seeking. Hilary doesn't want you to know this book exists let alone read the reviews. This book will tell you something about the woman who wishes to be the next president of the United States.



2. What we have here is an apparently hard-hitting, gloves-off book that exposes the depths of the corruption of Bill and Hillary Clinton. It's real purpose, though, is to preach to the choir of those who already dislike the Clintons intensely, while cleverly covering up the deeper, broader corruption that envelopes both major political parties and all the nation's major opinion molders. The proof of the pudding is in the following long passage in the book describing how Kenneth Starr's "investigators" shrugged off the frightening harassment of an inconvenient witness in the Vince Foster death case:
   
   No one knows who ordered the harassment team to begin its operation against Patrick Knowlton on October 26, 1995. However, someone close to the Starr investigation must have tipped them off that Knowlton had received a subpoena.
   
   Throughout Knowlton's ordeal, Starr's team treated the beleaguered witness with extraordinary contempt.
   
   When the street harassment began, Knowlton called the FBI and requested witness protection. Nothing happened for two days. Finally, Agent Russell Bransford--the same FBI agent who had delivered Starr's subpoena--showed up. "He had this smirk on his face, as if he thought the whole thing was amusing," says Knowlton. "I told him to get the hell out of my house."
   
   At the same time Knowlton was calling the FBI, Ruddy and Evans-Pritchard called Deputy Independent Counsel John Bates to report the intimidation of a grand jury witness. Bates's secretary jotted down some notes. "An hour later I called again," says Evans-Pritchard. "She let out an audible laugh and said that her boss had received the message...Bates never called back.
   
   What did Starr's people find so funny about the situation?
   
   As a last resort, Knowlton prepared a "Report of Witness Tampering" and took it personally to the Office of the Independent Counsel. "It was their responsibility, at the very least, to find out who leaked word of his subpoena," notes Evans-Pritchard. According to Evans-Pritchard, John Bates responded by calling security and having Knowlton removed from the building.
   
   Perhaps the most telling indication of Starr's attitude toward Knowlton is the humiliating cross-examination to which this brave man was subjected before the grand jury. Knowlton says that he was "treated like a suspect." Prosecutor Brett Kavanaugh appeared to be trying to imply that Knowlton was a homosexual who was cruising Fort Marcy Park for sex. Regarding the suspicious Hispanic-looking man he had seen guarding the park entrance, Kavanaugh asked, Did he "pass you a note?" Did he "touch your genitals?"
   
   Knowlton flew into a rage at Kavanaugh's insinuations. Evans-Pritchard writes that several African American jurors burst into laughter at the spectacle, rocking "back and forth as if they were at a Baptist revival meeting. Kavanaugh was unable to reassert his authority. The grand jury was laughing at him. The proceedings were out of control."
   
   It was at that point, reports [British reporter and author Ambrose] Evans-Pritchard, that Patrick Knowlton was finally compelled to confront the obvious: "the Office of the Independent Counsel was itself corrupt." (pp. 106-107)
   
   Note carefully the names of those two Starr underlings involved in the harassment of the witness, Knowlton. They are John Bates and Brett Kavanaugh. On page 143 Poe says, not surprisingly, "Like most Americans I support George W. Bush and his War on Terror." But Poe conveniently neglects to tell his readers that this president, whom he praises as a "decent, God-fearing man," has made federal judges--with the approval of the United States Senate--of these two accomplices after the fact of a high-level murder. He even leaves their names out of his extensive index. You will never find this connection made anywhere in the mainstream media, either.
   
   I rest my case.



3. This book does give a concise and to the point overview of scandals and cover-ups that have ties with Hillary, with documentation for further research. However, as far as this book is specifically concerned, I would describe it as a very interesting history of the new Internet journalists, especially as regards their rocky relationship with Hillary Clinton when she was first lady. In addition to this, it also documents the failure, in many cases, of the mainstream "Big" media (sometimes purposely, according to the author) to report the facts as they are, so as not to offend certain power structures in the country.
   
   I do not believe anyone in their right mind, (Hillary is in her wrong mind :-) reading this wonderful chronology of Internet journalism, could pin the term "vast, right wing conspiracy" on the expository news released by the more conservative Internet journalists. After all, politically speaking, it has been the left wing, and less the right wing (with some exceptions), in recent history, that has resorted to more surreptitious and psychologically deliberate forms of persuasion. Either way, I do agree with Anne Coulter's observation, as quoted in this book, that "Liberals fail in any media realm where there is competition. In the three media where success is determined on the free market--radio, books, and the Internet--conservatives rule....Only a monopoly could produce a Dan Rather." (p. 56)



4. Richard Poe provides an interesting take on the emergence of the conservative internet as a response to the liberal slanted mainstream media (New York Times, Washington Times, LA Times, CNN and the big three networks). Poe discusses how some of the powers behind such sites as the Drudge Report, NewsMax and FreeRepublic (for example) were ostracized by the mainstream media and turned to the internet to voice their opinions. They were quickly joined by hundreds of thousands of like minded net surfers and what started as a very large discussion forum grew into political action. It was the conservative internet that exposed the falsified documents used as the basis of the CBS "60 Minutes" report on President Bush's National Guard service. Liberals tried unsuccessfully to answer back with their own web sites. When she found she couldn't control them Hillary unleashed her dogs; suddenly people were being audited, sued and some lost funding (when donors were threatened). Through it all they preserved and, in so doing, flourished.
   
   While I have no doubt that liberals would like nothing more than to silence the conservative voice (which threatens their monopoly on news, opinions and, hence, threatens their agenda), I think Poe sometimes sees conspiracies where there may not be any (however, if I went through what some of these folks did I'm not sure I would see conspiracies everywhere also). I also think he goes a bit overboard with his praise of Matt Drudge (and his website).
   
   But those reservations aside I recommend this book for two reasons. First, for anyone coming a bit late to the internet party this book is good at catching you up to what's gone into getting things where they are today. Second I found the discussions of the Vince Foster and Ron Brown cases fascinating. It lays bare the lengths the Clintons, their minions and accomplices within the media will go to obfuscate the truth in pursuit of their goals (power and a return to the White House). Will the internet be powerful enough to stop them? Poe seems to think so. I hope he's right.



5. Poe plays Virgil and Hillary is the Debbil on this fascinating tour of the nether regions of trans millennial political intrigue. It would be hard to find a better spirit guide than Poe. He speaks with a reliable precision when delving the personalities and policies that make up the current American debate. This came forth on an episode of the O'Reily Factor when the host categorized George Soros as a "Leftist." Poe responded that Soros is not a doctrinal leftist and, in fact, is not doctrinaire. He merely wants to rule the World.
   
   Read Secret War and learn about Hillary's collusion with the major media to deflect and divert public attention from the scandals of the Clinton Administration. Get the details on Whitewater, Chinagate, and the Arkancide body count. Find out who really invented the Internet. Read about the New Underground- when it became self aware, who are the major players and what influence it will have on Hillary's aspirations- and what she is willing to do to stop them.
   
   Hillary's Secret War had taken on even greater importance with the implosion of the mainline media that took place shortly after publication. The events of Rathergate read like the next chapter in "..Secret War", highlighting Poe's perspicacity and underlining the credibility and importance of this book.

1 comments about No Time to Die.

1. This book was written with warmth, humor and honesty. Liz was a remarkable woman who inspired woman to live with grace, strength and faith. Must read.

No comments about War, Women, and the News: How Female Journalists Won the Battle to Cover World War II.

1 comments about Newspaper Days: Mencken's Autobiography: 1899-1906 (Maryland Paperback Bookshelf).

1. It's great to see that much of Mencken's work is still available to the common people. It shouldn't be isolated in Baltimore's Enoch Pratt Free Library, and/or Johns Hopkins' University.

   The H.L.Mencken room at the Pratt, has been called "the cradle of 20th Century literature." Alistair Cooke, said it exists..."for the comfort of sinners and the astonishment of the virtuous."

   As you can see, the author of "Newspaper Days: 1899-1906", was regarded as an iconoclast during his lifetime, and is still celebrated for fresh, refreshing views and commentary. H.L. Mencken was, above all else, a critic.

   Mencken wrote his autobiography in three separate volumes cumulatively known, in the world of journalism and literature, as the "Days Books". In addition to the work under consideration here: "Newspaper Days", the other two are "Happy Days: 1880-1892", and "Heathen Days: 1890-1936." As the title suggest, this book looks at H.L. Mencken's life from 1899, when at 19 he began his half-century career in journalism - at the now defunct Baltimore Morning Herald - through his move to the local newspaper of record: The Baltimore Evening Sun. This relationship with the Sun Papers (there was also a Morning Sun) lasted until 1950, when H.L.M. retired from the board of parent A.S. Abell Company.

   It was apparent, even this early in the career of "the irreverent Mr. Mencken", that his niche was writing opinion and criticism; some of it shocking to the establishment; all of it entertaining.

   Don't let the early period under discussion in this book (1899-1906) lead anyone to believe that the material is dated or old fashioned. Au contraire, Mencken is indeed talking of events which occured a long time ago, but evey word is perfect for the job it is called upon to do. His diction and syntax are all-important.

   After all, the reason for remembering and reading a critic of an earlier time, like Mencken, is not the issues he wrote about, but the manner in which he said what he said. It is the WAY he said it -- he was a stylist.

   A great man. A great book. Enjoy!

5 comments about The Coldest Winter: A Stringer in Liberated Europe.

1. The Coldest Winter is one of Paula Fox's earliest books, and I had meant to read it years ago. It is a memoir of a year spent traveling through Europe when she was twenty-two. The year was 1946. World War II had ended just a year earlier, and much of Europe still showed the ravages of war--heaps of rubble, food rationing and other shortages, a somber and depressed citizenry wherever she went, a gray sky and freezing cold weather to match the mood of the people. She visited London, Paris, Warsaw, Barcelona, Madrid and many smaller villages in the surrounding countryside.
   
   When I first read about this memoir, I knew I wanted to read it. I, too, had wanted to travel through Europe as a young girl, so I was eager to read what happened to her as she ventured forth into unpredictable, precarious situations without itinerary or plans, living each day as it comes, willing to be a stranger in a strange country with few, if any, acquaintances and little knowledge of its laws, traditions and customs.
   
   I was born in Germany. Though I came to the States at a young age, I often wondered how my life might have been had my family been able to remain in Europe. I often dreamed of returning, to make a trip as Fox had done, to see if perhaps I might feel more at home there than in my adopted country, and might even prefer to live there. I identified with the author and read her stories, her many impressions and observations as though they were my own.
   
   Fox had little money for her trip. I also would have had limited funds. She stayed with friends of her parents or distant relatives, took what jobs she could find such as reading scripts for small sums or writing a few articles for a small British news service. I turned every page, wondering what would happen next to this wandering young woman.
   
   In her inimitable writing style, Fox relates a somewhat harrowing experience in London one afternoon when she was in her small room reading a manuscript.
   
   There was a sharp knock on the front door. I looked through the mail slot, and saw dark cloth. I opened the door with my gut clenched. A bobby towered over me, or maybe it was only his helmet that made it seem so. He touched it with two fingers, addressed me as miss, and asked me if I held a work permit. I shook my head no. He said I'd need to come to the police station with him.
   
   Once there, I filled out a form that required me to swear not to take employment that a British citizen could do and, further, to work only at part-time jobs. I had heard that one needed a work permit but had not taken the requirement seriously. Perhaps it was myself I did not take seriously. For a moment I grasped at the shadowy nature of reality; of how one moves through it like a mist, forever thinking of what comes next and how impalpable the present is.
   
   I made my way back to my apartment chastened.
   
   I held the work permit in my hand, consoled by its meaning: The government protected its citizens and took my presence in England seriously.
   
   This bittersweet little story seemed rather typical of how I think about the British people: somewhat severe but with a civility we don't always find in this country. And again, Fox's description of a bleak Paris is as vivid as a picture postcard:
   
   A year and a half after the end of the war and the German occupation, Paris was muted and looked bruised and forlorn. Everywhere I went, I sensed the tracks of the wolf that had tried to devour the city. But Paris proved inedible, as it had been ever since its tribal beginnings on an island in the Seine, the Île de la Cité.
   
   I stood on the Champs-Élysées, down which the black-booted Nazis had marched, some with reverence and cultural piety, I had heard, some triumphant, some astonished that they should be in command of the City of Light. But there was little brightness in 1946, except a sunset on a fair day when the last of the sun's rays struck the roof of Sacré-Caeur and the flying buttresses of Notre-Dame and the spindle top of the Eiffel Tower; except in the bright scarves of the Frenchwomen who walk swiftly and inscouciantly as they went about their daily tasks and errands to the baker, the grocer, the butcher, and the open markets that had begun that year to display their wares. Perhaps the women were hoping to find their former lives among the stalls. But though there was no bomb damage, as there had been in London, the old life of Paris was gone.
   
   In another chapter one colorful sentence told me the bitter cold she experienced in Warsaw: "Cigarette smoke, strong drink, and conversation in a dozen languages sent you off to your narrow room with an illusion of warmth that lasted until you slid between sheets that were like frozen lead."
   
   Almost every page of this memoir conveys a kind of sternness in people everywhere, with sour expressions on the faces of waitresses, chambermaids, and the people she met on trains and in shops. The author seemed to be describing a general attitude of pessimism, a kind of bureaucratic rigidity and indifference suspended like a heavy cloud over the lives of war-torn Europe. Nevertheless, when her journey ends, Fox is not happy to be going home. A part of her would like to hold on to her European year. Returning to New York brings up questions of "What now?" She has no clear idea of how to start her new life, how to find a new direction.
   
   Once home, she works with difficult adolescent boys who have experienced the worst forms of abuse. One day, she takes them to view the stars and constellations through a special telescope belonging to Columbia University. She hopes by viewing something larger than themselves, their perspective might shift, and that they might view their own tragic lives with greater objectivity, less anger, as her experience amidst the devastation of Europe had "...shown me something beyond my own life, freeing me from chains I hadn't known were holding me, showing me something other than myself."
   
   Reading The Coldest Winter shifted my own perspective as well. It helped me to realize that I am a true American, a grateful American who believes that Europe is a great place to visit. But home for me will always be the good ole USA.
   
   by Duffie Bart
   for Story Circle Book Reviews
   reviewing books by, for, and about women



2. The book dealt more with her social/personal life than with her as a journalist in the aftermath of the war. The book is well written and very readable, I had just expected more of a post-war history.
   
   I'm sufficiently intrigued by her story that I've already bought her other biographical book, "Borrowed Finery," and look forward to reading it.
   
   Coleen from Kent, Wa



3. I am addicted to memoires of all types and this is one of the most touching in its honest, sparse style. I also enjoyed Fox's memoire "Borrowed Finery."
   
   I didn't like her novels -- Poor George, Desperate Characters, and The West Coast -- all that much. They, too, are sparse, but somehow in a novel I find the lack of detail and concrete information more troubling.



4. Those who did not like this book must not have read any of Paula Fox's other books. Her sparse, unsentimental style may not appeal to anyone, but to those who know and love her writing, of which there are many, this book is representative of her work and highly recommended. Many of the vignettes are profoundly moving.



5. Paula Fox's impressionistic memoir of her year in Europe immediately after the war in 1946, "The Coldest Winter," paints small scenes that evoke larger feelings, much like her earlier memoir, "Borrowed Finery." In both books Fox shifts, sometimes abruptly, from one experience to another, moving through the memories that stuck in her mind through the years. She was only 23 at the time of her European trip, a willing, but not lighthearted soul.
   
   "The Coldest Winter" benefits from a reading of "Borrowed Finery," the 2001 award-winning memoir of her childhood, now out in paperback. The impressions of a fairly impoverished American innocent, alone and quiet, though by no means meek, among the war worn people of London, Paris, Warsaw and Spain take on greater heft when you know the trauma and rootlessness of Fox's own childhood.
   
   The daughter of glamorous, feckless, disturbed parents, Fox had been left at a Manhattan foundling home days after her birth, "by my reluctant father, and by Elsie, my mother, panic-stricken and ungovernable in her haste to have done with me." Her parents were Hollywood screenwriters and her father was an alcoholic of the impulsive type who might insist his daughter visit then leave her with friends - or forget to go the railway station to pick her up at all. Her mother remained consistently hostile and terrifying.
   
   There was, however, love in her life. Reverend Elwood Amos Corning, a Congregational minister in a poor, rural upstate community, took her in at five months old and provided unconditional love and safety. What he could not do, however, was protect the child from the erratic claims of her parents. Each week after the comforting ritual of his church service she would have a moment of panic.
   
   "My unquestioning trust in Uncle Elwood's love, and in the refuge he had provided for me...would abruptly collapse. In an instant I realized the precariousness of my circumstances. I felt the earth crumble beneath my feet. I tottered on the edge of an abyss. If I fell, I knew I would fall forever.
   
   "This happened too every Sunday after church. But it lasted no longer than in takes to describe it."
   
   Eventually the day she dreaded arrived. After a horrific year in Malibu with her parents, from which she was rescued by Uncle Elwood, her Spanish grandmother, Elsie's mother, shows up to claim her once and for all. "She is of my blood," Candeleria tells Elwood.
   
   "It was far worse than a fairy tale enchantment. My parting from the minister was an amputation."
   
   Two of Elsie's four oddball brothers live with Candeleria. One of them is almost as terrifying as Elsie while the other is kind and playful. He lifts her out of the depression that has crept over her. But nothing can make her world safe again.
   
   "The Coldest Winter," has a melancholy, almost desperate aura that readers who have not read the earlier memoir will find perplexing, having no way of knowing that Fox is running off to Europe to escape her New York life and the searing memories of a brief, brutal marriage and a sad pregnancy which ended with an instantly regretted adoption.
   
   Though Fox often conveys the impression of being an outsider looking on at the world, this feeling is especially pronounced in "The Coldest Winter." In London she gets a job working for a publisher. One day a policeman knocks at her door, asking for her work permit, then takes her to the station to get one.
   
   "I had heard that one needed a work permit but had not taken the requirement seriously. Perhaps it was myself I did not take seriously. For a minute I grasped at the shadowy nature of reality; of how one moves through it like a mist, forever thinking of what comes next and how impalpable the present is.
   
   "I made my way back to Wandsworth, chastened....I held the work permit in my hand, consoled by its meaning: The government protected its citizens and took my presence in England seriously."
   
   Later, working for a small news wire, she meets people still reeling from the war - a fascist youth who talks raptly of executions he had witnessed, a tireless American Jew driven by the guilt of remaining unscathed by the Holocaust, a former political prisoner whose twin daughters had been killed by Mengele, and, most haunting of all, the children at an orphanage for those born in the camps. Enmeshed with these small, intense portraits is the bone-chilling cold of that winter, the glamour of hobnobbing with real journalists in smoky bars, and the general privation and destruction that prevailed throughout Europe in 1946.
   
   The author of six novels and the Newbery Award-winning author of many children's books, Fox's prose is as elegant as it is spare, conveying a haunting, sad beauty that remains with the reader long after the last page is turned.
   
   --Portsmouth Herald