Rossini Weekend

This weekend the full St. Louis Symphony Chorus sang for only the second time this season, after an unusually long mid-season hiatus (since October!). That's just the way the schedule shakes down, this year.

Friday and Saturday night, two reluctant audiences got an earful of music that has never been performed by the St. Louis Symphony before - and went away ecstatic.

The first number was the ominously titled Rendering by Luciano Berio, a once notorious avante garde composer. But it turned out to be a beautiful piece, fleshing out fragmentary sketches for a "Tenth Symphony in D Major" set down by Franz Schubert during the final month of his short life. I snuck into the hall to hear this piece both nights, greedily drinking in the sounds of a symphony that, but for Berio's work 150 years after Schubert's death, might never have been performed. Berio likened his task to an art restorer, preserving and enhancing the surviving sections of a crumbling mural, and filling in the irreparable bits with something durable but unobtrusive. He realized counterpoint, filled in harmonies, and from a few minimal orchestral cues he extrapolated an orchestration similar to what Schubert used in his late symphonies. It really, really sounded like a Schubert Symphony - which it fundamentally was.

Unlike many modern completions of unfinished works, however, Berio did not fill in the gaps between Schubert's fragments with his own "realization" or "artist's conception" of what Schubert may have intended to do. Instead, he fills in the blank spaces with gentle, dreamlike sounds, in which fragments of thematic ideas float around like disembodied ideas. The spacing seems to be proportionate to the time that ought to have elapsed between the extant sketches, but Berio taxed neither his imagination, nor our credulity, with an attempt to guess quite what would have filled that time.

The result is a torso of a gorgeous symphony, combined with a palpable sense of loss. The fact that the world will never hear what Schubert really had in mind - will never hear this work in its fully finished form - is tied into the tragedy of the greatest musical genius between Beethoven and Brahms dying in obscurity at age 31 - the touching spectacle of a mind still active while the body around it failed - and the frustrating reality that we can't run time in rapid-reverse for a handy do-over. If I had a time machine, I think the first person I would visit - for more than one reason - would be Schubert.

After the break, the chorus came onstage, along with soprano Twyla Robinson, mezzo-soprano Nancy Maultsby, tenor Gordon Gietz, bass-baritone John Relyea, and the Symphony Orchestra with its music director David Robertson conducting. We then sang the most amazing, movingly beautiful, perfect-from-start-to-finish piece of fine-art music St. Louisans had never heard before: Rossini's Stabat Mater.

This is one of a small handful of well-known settings of a 13th-century liturgical text addressing Mary, the mother of Jesus, as she stands at the foot of the cross. Certainly as a Protestant I can criticize the theology of praying to Mary for help of any kind, but as a Christian and as a human being I can't help being moved by the poem's - and the music's - deep sympathy for the suffering of others.

There are 10 movements in Rossini's setting. In the first movement, the chorus and soloists enter together, then swap phrases back and forth, in a solemn movement that sets the scene on the gloomy hill outside Jerusalem where Mary watched her Son die for all mankind. In the second movement, the tenor sings a slightly marchlike aria that, from the first time I heard it, instantly became one of my favorite pieces in the world. It expresses an elusive mix of admiration for a great lady, and deep pity for her sorrows; and, of course, it ends with a cadenza whose high D-flat became one of Pavarotti's "money shots."

The third movement is a soprano-alto duet that could very easily get stuck in your brain for days afterward (I am listening to it inside my head right now). Movement 4 is a dramatic bass aria; the bass then joins the chorus in the poignant, a capella fifth movement, Eja Mater. Movement 6, an ensemble piece for all four soloists, is now officially my favorite movement. Everyone looked like they were having so much fun performing it, and it was such a delight to hear! Then, in seventh place, the alto sang a slow, sensitive aria. Movement 8, Inflammatus, was an appropriately fiery soprano aria with the chorus acting as "backup singers." Then the soloists themselves became part of the appreciative audience as the chorus wrapped things up, first with another a capella movement (No. 9, Quando corpus) covering an enormous expressive range from loud exultation to almost tongue-tied murmuring; then, with a grand fugue (In sempiterna secula, Amen) which combines sophisticated counterpoint with a thrilling dramatic form, then ends with a devastating return of the music from the opening movement.

Robertson remarked, during Friday's pre-concert talk, that people don't take Rossini as seriously as he deserves to be taken. Why? Because he is such an amazingly good communicator that he makes it seem effortless, the work of a shallow, facile craftsman who could never be mistaken for a true artist. This Stabat Mater puts the lie to that myth once and for all, with music of tremendous tragic power, astonishing breadth of imagination, and such a mastery of harmonic, orchestral, and structural technicalities that you hardly notice the artistry and are pulled right into the story he tells.

The loss I felt at the end of each concert, especially the last one, was not only due to the unlikelihood of my ever encountering the Schubert/Berio Rendering again, live or otherwise. I have fallen deeply in love with Rossini's Stabat Mater, and I am sad to be separated from it - or at least, forced to content myself with recordings of it - when I feel ready to spend more time living inside it. My enjoyment was exquisite, and over too soon. But now that the SLSO owns a set of the scores, I expect that we will be singing it again one of these years.

IMAGES from the top: Schubert, Berio, Robinson, Gietz, Rossini, Maultsby, Robertson, Relyea. Not pictured (but she deserves a big hand): Amy Kaiser, director of the Chorus.

Charles Dickens

Yes, that's right. Charles Dickens, the author of A Christmas Carol and Oliver Twist, straight out of the period of the Industrial Revolution and the reign of Queen Victoria. You're probably thinking, "What? That's serious literature! And it's so old-fashioned and wordy, and the books are so long, how is li'l ole me supposed to choke them down?"

Well, you got through Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, didn't you? And if you're an American reader, the number of British expressions you would have to look up is only slightly higher in Dickens. And, as I've said time and time again, the similarities between J. K. Rowling and Charles Dickens are not to be sneezed at.

Actually, Dickens was a very popular author, and really he still is. His works fall into a category you could call "romantic melodrama" with a touch of moralizing satire on the social conditions of his time. He wrote his books in the form of installments in weekly or monthly magazines, which did very well in subscriptions (well, most of them), and only later came out in book form. The public followed the serial adventures of his heroes with bated breath, much as today's readers slaver over the next installment of Harry Potter. [EDIT: When this was written, only 4 Harry Potter books were in print.] He was hounded by fans to do public readings of his own works (he had a theatrical streak, though). And highbrow literary types always looked down their nose at him as a popular hack, a mere entertainer. But, he is that much more beloved, and his books are still well loved.

The typical Dickens novel is a broad, sprawling panorama of eventful plot lines, dotted with entertaining pieces of poetry, song, and folk tale, populated by a rich cast of distinctive characters, and focusing on (usually) one small, young, innocent person's efforts to overcome the obstacles thrown in their way by many bigger, older, nastier people. He created so many great characters that to this day, many common "types" in book, stage, and film, can be traced to the likes of Fagin, Steerforth, Pecksniff, Carton, Mrs. Sparsit, Sam Weller, etc.--all his proud creations.

Fans of Harry Potter will be particularly taken by the stories of orphan boys, disadvantaged in every way, who pull themselves up by their bootstraps (more or less): Oliver Twist, David Copperfield, and Nicholas Nickleby. The plight of under-appreciated, hardworking young women also makes good reading in Dombey and Son, Little Dorrit, and Hard Times. For a farcical adventure in the English countryside, see The Pickwick Papers. For a bittersweet tragedy of breathtaking power, see A Tale of Two Cities. For a young artist's tale of unrequited love, see Great Expectations. For a scathingly sarcastic depiction of Selfishness and its effects, see Martin Chuzzlewit (which features scenes in America so harsh in their satire that Dickens had to publish a disclaimer). Other Dickens masterpieces include Bleak House, The Old Curiosity Shop, the historical novel Barnaby Rudge, and Our Mutual Friend.

These stories are very accessible to modern readers, even ones who have never mastered such masterworks as Moby Dick or The Scarlet Letter. (Those two aren't by Dickens, by the way.) References to people, events, and literature that was better known in Dickens' day than in ours, and expressions lost in time (or, for non-British readers, expressions that simply never made it across the Pond) may require some explanation. So I recommend the Oxford Classics edition more for British readers, and the Penguin Classics edition for American and non-British readers, because of how thoroughly the endnotes explain these useful expressions. And keep a spare bookmark in the endnotes for easy reference.

David Copperfield
by Charles Dickens
Recommended Age: 14+

Some call him Mas'r Davy bor, some call him Trot. Don't even ask why. You'll find out, hopefully before you've read far in this book, that it is not about the magician with the creepy eyes who used to do things like make the Great Wall of China disappear. It isn't that kind of a parallel to Harry Potter.

This one is about an English orphan boy who struggles to make a life for himself, in spite of a hideous stepfather and his spinster sister, a spell working in a sweat-shop, a spell under the rod of a cruel schoolmaster, associations with people who spend time in debtors' prisons, the care of an extremely eccentric Great Aunt, apprenticeship under a rather dishonest attorney, a friendship that leads to betrayal, shame, and tragedy, and the malice of a villain who has the bad taste to be called Uriah Heep. And young David doesn't make things easier, by marrying the wrong girl in the heat of passion, and seemingly blowing his chance with the right girl.

Probably Dickens' most autobiographical novel, it is told from David's first-person point of view, taking in all the events from just before he is born until he finally finds true happiness. It's a pretty bumpy journey, and you can sympathize with him for many of the same reasons you love Harry Potter. Only in this melodrama, magic isn't the solution to the young man's problems. Simply put, love must triumph over hatred, forgiveness over vengeance, virtue over vice, and goodness over greed.

The characters are stunning: Handsome, easy-going, back-stabbing James Steerforth...the harsh, puritanical Murdstones...the angelic Agnes Wickfield...the girlish Dora Spenlow...the tragedy-ridden family of Pegotty...the debt-ridden family of Micawber...the absent-minded linguist Dr. Strong, and all their family connections...the slightly mental Mr. Dick...the more than slightly evil Heep...the strong-minded yet tender-hearted Aunt Betsey...Martha, and Emily, and Ham, and "lone, lorn" Mrs. Gummidge...and the deadly storm at Yarmouth, which becomes almost a character in its own right. When you finish this book, you may feel that you have really lived a whole life in its pages.

David Copperfield was the author's all-time favorite among his own novels. Maybe it will be yours too. Give it a shot! [IMAGE: Daniel Radcliffe as David Copperfield!]

Dombey and Son
by Charles Dickens
Recommended Age: 14+

Many great writers and creative artists are said to go through different "periods" of artistic development. Dickens is no exception. Not to bore you with the details, his early novels had their weaknesses, and his later novels might come off a bit pessimistic. But in between there was a stretch of masterpieces, in which Dickens was at the top of his art. One of those middle-period masterpieces is called Dombey and Son.

The title comes from the name of an import-export firm which has been passed from father to son through many generations of the Dombey family. So naturally the current Dombey is very impatient to have a son to inherit the firm after him. Perhaps because of this--at least partly because of this, to be sure--Paul Dombey Sr. doesn't have much love to spare for his daughter Florence, or his wife. Also, he has conceived an unjust resentment toward his daughter, whom his wife loves more than she loves him, and (after his wife dies giving birth to their son, Paul Jr.) who also seems to steal little Paul's love.

Things are not helped when, in one of the all-time most heartbreaking passages I have read, the sickly boy dies in Florence's arms...or when, having married a haughty young noblewoman for reasons other than love, Dombey finds that his second wife prefers Florence's company as well...until the tragedy sown by Dombey's injustice to his devoted daughter, finally bears fruit in a bitter harvest. The scene in which Dombey drives Florence from his house is the epitome of crushing, tragic climax. But it is also a redemptive turning point.

Thrill to such descriptions of characters as "he had a complexion like Stilton cheese, and eyes like a prawn"...chill to depictions of pure evil, like the "good mother" who abducts Florence in her childhood...and share the joys and sorrows of such salt-of-the-earth characters as the woman whose love for Paul Dombey (Sr.) is never returned...the awkward Mr. Toodles whose love for Florence is equally unrequited...the puppy love between Walter Gay and Florence Dombey...the unjustly-fired nanny whose son Robin becomes a pawn of evil...the virtuous couple who live in shame (because of past sins) while their self-righteous brother commits very present crimes...and my favorite of all, poor Captain Cuttle, who loses everyone he loves and gets them back again, and who lives in mortal fear that his widowed landlady will force him to marry her.

All this is wonderful, but it is nothing compared to the suspense that builds as the immovable object and the irresistable force, matrimonially speaking, put ever greater pressure on each other in the marriage of Paul and Edith Dombey. All while sweet, innocent, loving Florence--the pattern of all Dickens' angelic heroines, based on the memory of a beloved sister-in-law who died young--while Florence, who only wants her father to love her as she loves him, suffers most of all.

This is a powerful story. It isn't as well known, outside the mysterious circle of "well-read people," as say, A Tale of Two Cities or Great Expectations. But that's only because Hollywood hasn't discovered it yet. I hope you discover it soon. [EDIT: Dombey and Son has been adapted for film three times - a silent film in 1917, and two TV miniseries, in 1969 and 1983.]

Hard Times
by Charles Dickens
Recommended Age: 16+

Dickens' shortest novel is set in the age of the Industrial Revolution, when industrialists made their fortune while the laborers who worked for them slaved in dangerous and unhealthy conditions. It is set in the Age of Reason, when the prevailing philosophy of the day held that the only motive that really mattered to people was Self-Interest, and that the only thing people should be allowed to believe in from the cradle upward is pure, unadulterated Fact.

Enter Mr. Thomas Gradgrind, who has raised his five children along these strict, utilitarian lines. The choice results of his experiment are Louisa, who marries a blustering tycoon she does not love and is tempted within an inch of adultery by an immoral playboy; and Thomas Jr., also known as "the whelp," who sullenly exploits everyone for his own pleasure, and who finally brings the deepest shame and heartbreak on the family.

Tightly plotted, with an economy of words, incidents, and characters that is not typical of Dickens, Hard Times is partly a critique of a political and economic movement that was taking England by storm in the 1850's, and partly a demonstration of Dickens' belief that children need wonder in their lives--fairy tales, make-believe, fancy--and that the hard-working people need recreational pursuits to beguile their time off and relieve the tedium and stress of their workaday lives. This pitted Dickens against temperance (anti-alcohol) activists and Sabbatarians (who demanded that nothing should be allowed to go on, on Sundays, except church services). He also bashes both sides in the corruption-contest between organized labor and their industrialist employers, and lambastes the unjust system that made divorce legal only for the very rich.

For such a socially conscious, agenda-driven book, it is also a surprisingly human story about the blighted hearts of Louisa and Tom, and the saving grace of the abandoned clown's daughter Sissy Jupe. You will pity and love Rachael and Stephen, not to mention Sissy. You will loathe and despise Bounderby, Harthouse, Bitzer, and Mrs. Sparsit. You will be stunned by the death scene of Mrs. Gradgrind, thrilled by the revelation of Mrs. Pegler's true identity, and moved by the final scene between the honest workman who was unjustly accused of a bank robbery, and the woman who loved him. And finally, you will laugh out loud at Mr. Sleary of the horse-riding circus, who is both screamingly funny and deeply touching. Sleary provides both the comic relief this story so desperately needs and the final proof in evidence that people need amusements and popular distractions, diversions for reality, play and fun and "wonder"--to use, not abuse--in order to be the best students, the best workers, the best citizens, and the best human beings they can be.

This flies right in the face of uppity literary critics and downity religious fanatics, who would like nothing better than to squash the Harry Potter phenomenon. So, all the more reason for J. K. Rowling fans to become acquainted with Charles Dickens!

Little Dorrit
by Charles Dickens
Recommended Age: 14+

Towards the end of his life, when Dickens was without dispute the master of his craft, he wrote this rich, compelling, many-layered story about life in a debtor's prison...and out of it. The "shadow of the Marshalsea" falls on William Dorrit, who takes his family with him to the notorious debtor's jail in which Dickens' own father spent some time. How the experience alters him and his children, both during and after their years in the place, are the central thread of the story.

Also woven in is the melancholy journey of Arthur Clennam, the 40-something bachelor who has not been well-served in love, and who seems oblivious to his chance for true happiness with young Amy Dorrit--the title character of the novel. But also standing in the way, or at least complicating things for the couple, are a ridiculous ex-fiancee who talks nonstop (Harry Potter actress Miriam Margolyes (Professor Sprout) won awards for portraying this character in a British film); a worthless rival suitor for a pretty girl's hand; a couple of women who live to be contrary to everyone including themselves; a bitter, paralytic old lady who has means and motive for keeping both Amy and Arthur as miserable as can be; the aptly-named Barnacle family who uses their stranglehold on government patronage to obstruct progress of any kind; and worst of all, a wily, dastardly Frenchman who stands a chance of ruining everything for everybody.

And if that isn't enough to fill one very thick book, I might also mention the tragedy of Amy's sister Fanny, who marries a complete doofus because she wants to put down her haughty mother-in-law...the embezzler who takes his own life along with the fortunes of many others, good and bad...a developmentally disabled adult who becomes so attached to the industrious young figure of Amy Dorrit that she calls her the "little mother"...a rent-collector who is constantly made to resemble a steam-engine in one of the crowning examples of extended metaphor in all English literature...and the hopelessness of contracting a happy marriage between a family of poor nobles (who want money) and a family of rich commoners (who want family connections). But most of all, I want to mention the fact that if you read the first chapter of this book, you will be so hooked that you won't have any trouble reading the rest of it. I don't think I have ever read a more perfect opening chapter. Let me quote in part:

Thirty years ago, Marseilles lay burning in the sun, one day.

A blazing sun upon a fierce August day was no greater rarity in southern France then, than at any other time, before or since. Every thing in Marseilles, and about Marseilles, had stared at the fervid sky, and been stared at in return, until a staring habit had become universal there. Strangers were stared out of countenance by staring white houses, staring white walls, staring white streets, staring tracts of arid road, staring hills from which verdure was burnt away. The only things to be seen not fixedly staring and glaring were the vines drooping under their load of grapes. These did occasionally wink a little, as the hot air barely moved their faint leaves.

...The wide stare stared itself out for one while; the sun went down in a red, green, golden glory; the stars came out in the heavens, and the fire-flies mimicked them in the lower air, as men may feebly imitate the goodness of a better order of beings; the long dusty roads and the interminable plains were in repose--and so deep a hush was on the sea, that it scarcely whispered of the time when it shall give up its dead.

Do you see what I mean? Though not as widely-known as Dickens' other books such as A Tale of Two Cities or Oliver Twist, Little Dorrit is as good as any of them. If these excerpts have intrigued you, I assure you, the book is worth your time!

EDIT: Besides the 1988 film referenced above, Little Dorrit has been the subject of films in 1913, 1920, and 1934, the lattermost in German, and a TV miniseries currently in development. IMAGE: Alec Guinness as William Dorrit.

Martin Chuzzlewit
by Charles Dickens
Recommended Age: 16+

Americans occasionally complain that there aren't any American characters or American episodes in Harry Potter. Now if they would only read Dickens, they might not make that complaint. When Dickens took his characters across the Atlantic Pond and deep inside the American interior--and those were frontier days--well, what he had to say didn't sit well with some Americans. But, to be fair to the Great One, he only did to American institutions and manners what he always did to British ones. He displayed their virtues and vices, and savagely ridiculed their conceits, in hope of correcting the vices and strengthening the virtues.

The vice that principally comes under attack in Martin Chuzzlewit isn't only, or even primarily, a British one. That vice is the love of Self. And most unusually, the title character and hero of the story is, at first, an extremely unattractive young man because of this very thing. But his sojourn in America changes him for the better. Meanwhile, back in England, Martin's grandfather (also called Martin Chuzzlewit) is fighting his own crusade against the selfishness in other people, while failing to recognize it in himself.

Nevertheless, neither of the Martin Chuzzlewits of this book come close to Seth Pecksniff--who, in terms of the amount of the narrative given over to him, is probably the real main character. No one can touch old S. P. when it comes to hypocrisy and self-serving conduct, he is simply the Grand Dragon and Lord High Poobah of the arts of dissembling and cunning.

And yet even Pecksniff isn't the worst villain of the story. For that you have to go to another Chuzzlewit named Jonas, who...well, I don't want to give away too much, but your heart will bang against your ribs when you read about it.

To make a long story short, Martin Sr. thinks all his relatives are out to get his considerable fortune, and he is quite right. He is disgusted with self-serving people who, if they had half a chance, would have him put away in an institution and declared "of unsound mind" until he made out a will in their favor. Though suffering from physical ailments and, apparently, declining mentally as well, Martin Sr. obstinately sets himself against all such people, and takes refuge in the company of a disinterested girl named Mary.

Meanwhile, Martin Jr. has fallen in love with Mary, and because of his obstinacy (combined with Martin Sr.'s ditto), the two Martins have a falling out. Martin becomes, for a while, an apprentice to a distant cousin and architect named Pecksniff, who uses his skill at hypocrisy to bring the elder Martin under his influence...and to send the younger Martin packing on the hard road to self-discovery.

Also entering the narrative are Pecksniff's daughters, Mercy and Charity--both of whom are as dreadful as their father, at first, and one of whom eventually repents. Then there is the wonderful character of Tom Pinch, the angel of this story, who along with his delicate sister Ruth undergoes more injustices and tear-jerking disappointments than any single soul should have to endure. You will also enjoy the character of John Westlock, who of all characters in the book seems to be the "romantic lead," and of Martin Jr.'s outrageous servant Mark Tapley, whose goal in life is to be a miserable as possible so that, by "coming out strong in trying circumstances" he can really earn credit for being jolly.

And finally, among the many, many notable characters who cross the stage in this tale, I must prepare you for Mrs. Gamp: the extremely talkative, tippling nurse who in Dickens' public readings of his works, was one of his most popular characters. I believe her characterization led to reforms of the private nursing industry. Oh yes! And almost every Dickens book has a character with a name so outrageous that you just have to laugh. May I have the honor of introducing you to Chevy Slyme, Esq.?

There is so much stuff crammed into this huge book--and so much of it is bitingly, acidly sarcastic--that reading it may be a daunting project. Perhaps too daunting even to begin. So let me make one more suggestion. Read it the way it was published: serially. Modern editions such as the Oxford and Penguin Classics indicate the breaks between the "numbers" in which the novel first appeared in monthly magazines. What a way to write a book, eh! But the dramatic rise and fall of each "number," while it can lull you over a long haul, can make a very satisfying and do-able reading experience if you go one number at a time. Each number is about 25-40 pages long and consists of two or three chapters, usually; a good night's reading, before going to bed! And the climax of the book is a "double number," just right when you've reached the point where you can't put the book down.

But first, I urge you...pick it up! [IMAGE: Paul Scofield as Martin Chuzzlewit Sr.]

Nicholas Nickleby
by Charles Dickens
Recommended Age: 14+

Roald Dahl apparently considered this a book every child should be familiar with. He mentions it in more than one of his stories for the young. I second that opinion. Of all the young heroes whose struggles form the meat of Dickens' novels, I personally like Nicholas Nickleby best. It may not be his strongest novel, from any technical standpoint, but young Nicholas is definitely his strongest hero. No pale, sickly waif this; touch this young man where his honor (or his family's honor) lies, and he will touch you back! Okay, he's not perfect, he's not altogether wise and self-controlled, he is a bit headstrong--but he is a hero to cheer for!

Nicholas' father dies, leaving him at age 17 the head of his family, with nothing but debts to their name. So he, his mother, and his younger sister Kate betake themselves to London to seek help from his father's moneylender brother, Uncle Ralph. But Ralph Nickleby is as cruel as he is stingy, and he takes an instant dislike to Nicholas. Consigning him to a miserable teaching job in the Yorkshire school Dotheboys Hall (run by the despicable rogue Wackford Squeers), Ralph takes advantage of the lad's absence to put Kate in, er, socially compromising positions. Some of these involve a world-class cad named Sir Mulberry Hawk and an ill-fated dupe with the hard-to-forget name of Lord Verisopht.

But you can't keep a good Nickleby down. After memorably beating the Yorkshire schoolmaster with his own cane, Nicholas runs away with a consumptive boy named Smike who forms a deep attachment to him. The two join the outrageous acting troupe of Vincent Crummles for a while, then return to London to save Kate and Nick's mother from the nefarious designs of Uncle Ralph. The siblings try their hands at other means of living, revealing more of the foibles of British society at the time. Meanwhile, the vengeful Ralph tries other ways of hurting Nicholas: through his heart.

In a climax that involves Ralph's alcoholic secretary, a dark secret from the past, a beautiful girl and her debt-prone father, and a pair of twin brother philanthropists named the Brothers Cheeryble, the good Nicklebys are finally sorted out from the bad, everyone gets their just desserts, and a bright future dawns for the little family led by our impulsive young hero.

After you read this book, and love it of course, look out for the excellent American-made (!) film of this book, recently released on video with Christopher Plummer as Ralph Nickleby, Jim Broadbent as Squeers, and Nathan Lane as Crummles. The perfect cast also includes Timothy "Wormtail" Spall and David "Filch" Bradley. As for the book itself, which was only Dickens' third full-length novel, Dickens' portrayal of Squeers actually led to reforms of the Yorkshire schools. Some readers (including essayist G. K. Chesterton) say Nicholas Nickleby is the book that marked Dickens' real entry into the brotherhood of Great Novelists. See for yourself!

EDIT: Of this book there have been 8 movies, including 4 made for TV. Compare that to Martin Chuzzlewit's 4 movies, 2 of them for TV; or, on the other hand, David Copperfield's 15 movies, 8 of them for TV. IMDB them yourself (he said grumpily). IMAGES: Jim Broadbent as Squeers; Charlie Hunnam as Nicholas Nickleby.

Oliver Twist
by Charles Dickens
Recommended Age: 14+

For some reason this is one of Dickens' best-loved and most-enacted stories, after A Christmas Carol. I really don't understand this, because among the great one's novels that I have read so far, this was my least favorite. I can't speak for everyone, however. But it was only Dickens' second novel, after all; and it has the structural weaknesses that can often beset a beginning novelist, even after his first success (The Pickwick Papers). All the same, it is full of the variety of vividly portrayed people and emotionally intense happenings that lovers of Dickens have come to expect.

What keeps a reader ploughing through a book so thick is, usually, a great conflict that rises to a big climax and is finally resolved at the end. My main complaint with Oliver Twist is that the real conflict of the story seems to resolve itself too easily and too early. However, the characters will captivate you right to the end, as you will long to find out what happens to Fagin and the Artful Dodger and the vicious criminal Bill Sikes. Not to mention the love story between Henry and Rose, the fate of Noah Claypole, and the secret of little Oliver's mysterious parentage.

Born in a workhouse for the poor, to a mother who staggered out of nowhere and died in childbirth, his origins unknown, young Oliver is brought up from infancy under the cruel Poor Laws which Dickens helped to make notorious, and which finally got repealed in part because of this book. After the notorious incident in which the liveried Beadle finds the child's request for more porridge scandalous, he is apprenticed to a very unpleasant undertaker. Soon little Oliver runs away to London to try his luck there. He is soon taken in by a band of thieves who are determined to destroy Oliver's virtue...or destroy him. But with the help of some good people, Oliver makes his escape and helps bring the villains to justice.

Not the most perfect novel by the master who published his books serially in magazines under the pseudonym "Boz" (wait till you see the original illustrations by "Phiz"!), Oliver Twist is still a story to awaken your pity for a very gentle, vulnerable child who needs all the help he can get to grow up good and strong...and who cannot get that help from the state. It is a story to awaken your outrage at laws and philosophies that put hypocrisy in place of charity, and above all, a story to inspire needy and suffering children with the view that crime is not the only way out of a tough neighborhood...or even the best way.

As long as you can believe in a character like Oliver, who puts his virtue on the same level of importance as his very life, you can believe in the possibility of a better world. I think Harry Potter does the same thing. But he owes something to Oliver Twist.

EDIT: Out of literally dozens of films and TV programs based on this novel, including a musical that won the Oscar for Best Picture, the one I personally recommend is the 2005 version directed by Roman Polanski. IMAGE: Barney Clark as Oliver Twist.

The Pickwick Papers
by Charles Dickens
Recommended Age: 14+

The actual title is The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club. This is the first novel Dickens wrote. Some would argue that his first real novel was, say, Nicholas Nickleby, but let's not split hairs. The idea came about in an interesting way. He had published a number of articles in various magazines, and a publisher approached Dickens with the proposal of doing a series of satirical "sporting pieces" that would, essentially, pull the nose of all the gentlemanly pastimes of contemporary (1836-7) England.

There wasn't supposed to be a real plot line running through the series; the thread connecting them would be simply a set of farcical characters centered around Samuel Pickwick, a well-to-do amateur anthropologist who goes out into the countryside to observe different kinds of recreation such as shooting, cricket, journalism, and Parliamentary elections. And each piece was supposed to be written to go with an illustration by a certain artist who was well established in the trade, and thought that he was in control of the creative collaboration.

Well, the illustrator soon found out how wrong he was. He soon found that the literary genius of Charles Dickens wanted an illustrator to cater to it, not vice versa. And as a result, the illustrator literally blew his brains out after only one "number." A few months after this tragedy Dickens established his lifelong creative partnership with illustrator Hablot K. Browne, and the two wrote and sketched under the respective pen-names of Boz and Phiz.

As for the novel itself, it gradually coalesced into a true novel with an actual plot, and characters that developed into more than they were at the beginning. This unexpected development turns The Pickwick Papers, by degrees, from a series of raucously funny sketches, into a full-blown novel that is as emotionally powerful, at its climax, as almost anything Dickens wrote.

Full of stories and songs, ridiculous descriptions of social foibles, and the awesome presence of Pickwick's cockney servant Sam Weller, this book falls into the literary category (here I go again) known as picaresque. In case I didn't scare you off just now, that word means that it's a satirical story in which you get a guided tour of the real world, guided by a Wise Fool who is only wrong when he's sure he's right, and who is most right when he seems most wrong. Sometimes Pickwick is your guide, but most of the time Sam Weller is. Even if you have never loved a fictional character before, you will love Sam Weller. And for the reasons he loves Samuel Pickwick--ridiculous as Pickwick seems, at first--you will come to love Pickwick too.

So many things happen in this book that I fear I would ruin your enjoyment by giving any of them away, but just to whet your appetite, there is the melodrama surrounding the nefarious "adventurer" Alfred Jingle...the story of a man who gets locked out of his boarding-house naked in the middle of the night...a man who finds himself fighting a duel because someone else wearing his clothes caused a scandal...the fat boy who is always either eating or sleeping, except on unlucky occasions when someone is hoping not to be observed...and the whole legal nightmare that develops when Pickwick's landlady mistakes his request for a new manservant as a proposal of marriage, which ultimately becomes the core of this novel.

What more can I say of a book in which a man hears that his worst enemy has gotten married, and replies: "Serves him right!"

A Tale of Two Cities
by Charles Dickens
Recommended Age: 16+

A friend of mine says that he could never read this book because the first paragraph ("It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...") did him in. If you feel the same way, then for God's sake skip the first paragraph. For otherwise you are missing out on one of the most powerful novels in our language.

I won't promise that this is an easy book to begin, but once you really begin it, it is a hard book to put down. It was the first book by Dickens that I read and, on the strength of my love for it, I made it all the way through Oliver Twist (which I did not like so well). It has that kind of power.

Some would say that if you know what's going to happen too early on, the suspense is gone and the fun of reading it is spoiled. I say that if you've read A Tale of Two Cities, you know better. This book is so well-crafted that, from the half-way point at the very latest, you will probably know exactly how it is going to end. Yet you will be drawn, through agonizing suspense and reams upon reams of Kleenex, to the very last sentence. After which, if anything on a printed page can touch your heart, you might sit with the book closed on your lap and just cry for a while.

This is both a historical romance novel (set in the French Revolution at the turn of the 19th century) and a strikingly realistic character novel, written in a style ahead of its time. Nothing else that Dickens wrote, as far as I have read to date, comes close to this. I cannot begin to express how important it is that you forget what you saw on Hallmark Hall of Fame and read this book for yourself.

Only then will the closing sentences of this book ("It is a far, far better thing...") hit you with their full, ballistic power. Only then will the preposterous idea on which the whole plot turns, become so sublime that you would sooner disbelieve the laws of gravity than question whether Sidney Carton would--or could--really take the place of Charles Darnay. Only then will you truly understand how low the hatred of Madame Defarge can pull you down, or how high the love of Lucie Manette can lift you up. Only then, after reading this surprisingly short novel, will you understand why Charles Dickens is not just a great entertainer, but one of the great artists of English fiction.

This is a story of love and sacrifice, of heroism in a time of terror, and of the way a seemingly worthless and insignificant person can stem the tide of events and, perhaps, even redeem himself. Themes like this should resonate with Harry Potter fans, I think. But if you like reading, and if you want to care about the people you read about, this is simply a novel you must read. Before, after, or even instead of any and all of Dickens' other books, I recommend A Tale of Two Cities.

EDIT: Here is IMDB's list of A Tale of Two Cities film adaptations. And just for good measure, here is what The Pickwick Papers turned up.

Roald Dahl

The BFG
by Roald Dahl
Recommended Age: 8+

The letters in the title stand for "Big Friendly Giant," a character readers of Danny the Champion of the World will already know and love. The BFG stands 24 feet tall and strides around the streets at night, poking his long thin trumpet through the windows of children's bedrooms, and blowing lovely dreams at them while they sleep. But when a little orphan girl named Sophie sees him from her dormitory window, he is forced to snatch her and take her to his mountain lair. He couldn't risk letting the word get out about giants.

The BFG is a friendly giant, though. Unlike the other nine giants in Giant Country, who are all twice as big, twice as stupid, and twice as mean. Those giants all have names like "Bloodbottler" and "Bonecruncher," and they go out every night and eat dozens of innocent "human beans." They look down their ugly noses at the BFG, who is the runt of the litter and the only vegetarian among them. The poor BFG has a hard time of it all around, because the only vegetable that grows in Giant Country is the horrid snozzcumber.

But it isn't until the nasty giants go striding off to England to feast on school children, that Sophie and the BFG hatch their brilliant plan to put a stop to the butchery once and for all. In a silly and exciting adventure that includes Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II, an extremely resourceful butler, and a lot of military hardware, everything is finally set right.

Of all Dahl's books, this is the one that most made me appreciate what a wonderful wordsmith Dahl was. The BFG has a very peculiar way of speaking, mixing up a lot of words and making up as many more. The master who coined "scrumdiddlyumptious" here creates a multitude of new words, all of which tickle the funny bone and get their meaning across in a truly magical way. And as a feat of pure story telling, The BFG holds its own alongside the best of Dahl's books.

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
by Roald Dahl
Recommended Age: 8+

One of my favorite kid movies of all time is the musical Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. Once I read the book, though, I realized that the original title is much better. The story is about the same though, with poor-as-dirt Charlie Bucket dreaming of being one of the five lucky winners of a candy bar sweepstakes, the grand prize being a guided tour of the mysterious and magical Wonka Candy Works.

Along with Grandpa Joe, Charlie does get to tour the marvelous candy land, along with four obnoxious children and their over-indulgent parents, who are eliminated one-by-one as a result of their own character flaws. Each time this happens, the tiny Oompa Loompas deliver moralizing remarks about such evils as watching too much TV, chewing too much gum, overeating, and being a spoiled brat. Finally Charlie's loyalty is tested... and when he passes the test, he wins the real grand prize that he never dared dream of!

Look out for the sequel, Charlie and the Glass Elevator. [UPDATE: When I wrote this review, Tim Burton's film Charlie and the Chocolate Factory had not yet come out.]

Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator
by Roald Dahl
Recommended Age: 8+

This sequel to Charlie and the Chocolate Factory picks up where the original left off, with Charlie Bucket and his parents, Grandpa Joe, Grandma Josephine, Grandpa George, Grandma Georgina, and Mr. Willie Wonka himself in the magical glass elevator, on their way to take over the Wonka Chocolate Factory. But because the three bedridden old ones are still cantankerous and full of doubts, they ascend too high and end up in orbit. It just happens that the great Space Hotel USA is about to open, and they take advantage of their plight to be the first on board the opulent luxury hotel in space.

Only, they aren't the first. Something has gotten there before them--a thousand somethings from far away in outerspace--about the nastiest somethings you could ask for. And in their madcap escape, which also happens to be an international incident of the utmost absurdity (you'll LOVE the President of the U. S.), they also have to help a space capsule full of housekeepers, waitresses, and bell hops escape a rampaging swarm of Vermicious Knids.

But the story isn't even half over then... for once they smash down in the Wonka Works, Charlie and his family have another crisis on their hands: for two of Wonka's magical confections--Wonka-Vite, which makes you younger, and Vita-Wonk, which makes you older--lead the Bucket family on a scary and hilarious adventure to Minusland and back.

Many of the most memorable lines from the Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory musical-movie, starring Gene Wilder, came from this book. Such as, "A little nonsense now and then is cherished by the wisest men." It's a very goofy story, and certainly not Dahl's most perfect or well-polished creation, but it's got some good solid laughs, some hair-raising moments, and a few life lessons thrown in, like medicine laced with sugar.

Also, those of you who may have read Julie Andrews Edwards' The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles, will remember some creature names from this (and other) books by Roald Dahl. Who else would come up with whangdoodles, snozzwangers, procks, and whiffle birds?

Danny the Champion of the World
by Roald Dahl
Recommended Age: 8+

Here is a wonderful adventure and an affectionate, father-son love story rolled into one. Danny is an adorable nine-year-old boy, raised alone by his doting father. They live in a gypsy caravan parked behind a filling station. Danny's father is an auto mechanic, but he's oh so much more. As Danny finally concludes, he is the greatest, most exciting father a boy ever had.

The two are devoted to each other. So it happens that one night, when Danny awakens in the small hours and can find no sign of his father, he grows worried. When his father returns from a nocturnal jaunt, he decides to reveal his deepest darkest secret. Danny's father, law-abiding mechanic by day, is a pheasant poacher by night! Soon father and son together are enjoying this exciting past-time, their enjoyment redoubled by their dislike for Mr. Victor Hazell, who has hundreds of fat pheasants in his woods, saving them up for the opening of pheasant-shooting season when Hazell has the lions of society over to his estate.

So partly to feed their family and friends with a rare treat of roast pheasant, and partly to get back at the nasty Mr. Hazell, Danny and his father hatch an ingenious plan-a daring plan-a plan that unravels in a hilarious and amazing way.

Fans of Dahl's books will recognize a beloved character in the stories Danny's father tells to his son.

As in Fantastic Mr. Fox, readers may question the ethics of Dahl's characters. On the other hand, it could be that Dahl's purpose (in part) was to make you question the ethics, for example, of Mr. Hazell and his type, or of the vicious schoolteacher named Captain Lancaster. One thing you will not question is that this story will charm you, and you will love Danny and his father almost as much as they love each other.

The Enormous Crocodile
by Roald Dahl
Recommended Age: 6+

This isn't exactly a novel. In fact, it's such a little book that it's all in one chapter. It's a lot like a classic fable. An enormous, ravening crocodile sets his mind on eating some fat, juicy children for lunch. Along the way he makes the acquaintance of several animals, but he doesn't exactly make friends. The other animals keep warning the children to stay away from the enormous crocodile, thwarting all his imaginative traps and schemes, until finally the crocodile gets what he deserves. Witty and full of Dahl's unique brand of word-magic, this story will especially delight youngsters who may not be old enough for Harry Potter.

Fantastic Mr. Fox
by Roald Dahl
Recommended Age: 8+

Here is a story about three nasty poultry farmers who team up to try and finish off a fox who keeps raiding their barns. Mr. Fox cleverly saves his whole family, and a bunch of other burrowing creatures besides, and thwarts the aims of the three wicked men. It's a very charming story whose moral you may not quite agree with, but it is basically "It's okay to steal if your family is starving." In the animal world, at least, there's nothing wrong with that. In the human world, if that's what you're supposed to think about, it provokes some thought, doesn't it?

Since it is such a short book, and so easily and quickly read, I won't add any more except to say that I recommend all of Dahl's magical books for young readers and the young at heart.

George's Marvelous Medicine
by Roald Dahl
Recommended Age: 8+

If your favorite Hogwarts subject would be potions, I have already pointed out that you should read The Ogre Downstairs by Diana Wynne Jones. [EDIT: Not on this blog, though.] But even before that book, there was this treasure for young readers and the young at heart, by Norwegian-bred, British author Roald Dahl. I feel obliged to say, first of all, that any book by Roald Dahl is bound to be a wonderful, fun, magical experience, and I recommend every single one.

This one is a cute story about a little boy who is left at home by his parents one day and told to give his witchy grandmother her medicine at precisely eleven o'clock. But she is such a frightful old hag that he decides to give her some real medicine...and concocts a magical potion out of all kinds of household items from the bathroom, kitchen, his mother's dressing table, the garage, storeroom, etc. (DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME!!!)

The effects of his experiment, and of subsequent experiments that his father enthusiastically enters into, are very amusing. It's basically a fun little brush with magic, and the recipe is priceless.

James and the Giant Peach
by Roald Dahl
Recommended Age: 8+

Before there was a claymation movie under this title, there was this book. And a fine book it is, though perhaps darker than some of Dahl's children's stories.

As the story begins, James is in a fix that should feel familiar for anyone who has sympathized with Harry Potter's plight. James is a happy little boy until his parents are killed in a truly outrageous accident (you have to read it to believe it). James is sent to live with his evil aunts, bony Aunt Spiker and tubby Aunt Sponge. This pair makes the Dursleys look like a good-natured family that only practices a little "tough love." They are truly hideous. And for three years, they grind James down with beatings, forced labor, constant criticism, deprivation, loneliness, and despair, until he is a very sad little boy.

Then, lo and behold, a strange little man gives James a paper bag full of magic crystals which, the man says, James must stir into water and drink if he wants to have wonderful things happen to him. In his excitement, James trips and spills the crystals on the roots of a withered old peach tree. Overnight a peach the size of a house grows, and before you can say Peach Cobbler, the peach has broken loose, crushed the horrid Aunts to death, and carried James away on a magical journey.

Through sea and sky, James is swept by a combination of cleverness, courage, and fairy-tale gags. And on the good ship (or airship) Peach, he makes the acquaintance of a group of giant-sized, talking, clothes-wearing bugs-the Old-Green-Grasshopper, Miss Spider, Miss Ladybug, Miss Silkworm, the Earthworm, the Glowworm, and the ne'er-do-well Centipede, who is constantly worrying about his forty-two pairs of boots. Together they see how the weather is made, they escape from sharks, and they scare the daylights out of the good people of New York City.

Fans of the Dahl stories will be delighted by cameo appearances by the snozzwanger, the whangdoodle, and (my favorite) the vermicious Knid. And fans of a certain boy wizard will be slightly startled to learn the full name of our hero: James Henry Trotter.

Matilda
by Roald Dahl
Recommended Age: 8+

What is a gifted child to do when she is brought up by a family that squelches intellect? Poor Matilda, who reads at an adult level before she's even old enough to go to school, is forced to watch TV night after night with her dishonest used-car-salesman father, her airheaded bingo-playing mother, and her not-too-bright older brother. When she is finally allowed to go to school, it is a dreadful school run by a child-hating ogress named The Trunchbull. But her teacher, Miss Honey, soon recognizes Matilda's special gifts, and the two become fast friends.

Together with a power to make objects move on their own accord, Matilda frees her school from the Trunchbull's tyranny, and finds the family she deserves. An adorable fantasy from a true master! Prepare to be reminded of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's/Sorcerer's Stone.

By the way, if you think Pam Ferris is the perfect actress to play Aunt Marge in Prisoner of Azkaban, you've got to see her as the Trunchbull in the adorable film of this book, directed by Danny DeVito.

The Twits
by Roald Dahl
Recommended Age: 8+

This is a short adventure about a very hideous, nasty, retired couple of circus animal trainers who delight in playing malicious jokes on each other, using glue to catch songbirds to bake in pies, and forcing a family of monkeys in a cage to stand on their heads all day long...and the sweet revenge the animals wreak on them.

As usual, Dahl's writing is full of wit, humor, and an underlying current of moralism and pathos. It's like having a wise old uncle who has been to hell and back, telling you innocent little stories with depths of meaning in them while a witty twinkle dances in his eye. Check out his other delicious books!

The Vicar of Nibbleswicke
by Roald Dahl
Recommended Age: 6+

Just as J. K. Rowling wrote the Hogwarts school-books to benefit charity (in her case, Comic Relief), Roald Dahl wrote a small and very funny children's book to aid the Dyslexia Society of Great Britain. This story features a kind-hearted young clergyman who, when he's a bit nervous, pronounces words as though they were spelt backward. This results in confusion at best, and scandal at worst, especially when he's trying to say "park" or addressing a pillar of the church named "Mrs. Prewt."

Finally, a fanciful cure is found for the Vicar's problem, creating yet another lovable eccentric among the many who come from the mind of Roald Dahl.

The Witches
by Roald Dahl
Recommended Age: 8+

A little orphan boy, being raised by his cigar-chomping Norwegian grandmother, comes to an English resort hotel for a seaside cure. While he is training his pet mice (William and Mary) to do tricks, he makes the horrifying discovery that all his Grandma's stories about witches are true. They really do have square, toeless feet, pointy teeth, claws on their fingers, and eyes that glow purple, and they think children smell like dog droppings. This poor, petrified boy (who interestingly remains unnamed throughout the book) only learns that these stories are more than stories when he stumbles on the fact that his hotel is filled with a Witches' Convention.

Disguised as a women's society to promote the welfare of children, the witches are actually plotting the destruction of all children in England - using a hilarious yet sinister recipe called the Delayed-Action Mouse Maker. The ingredients for this are even more rib-tickling than George's Marvelous Medicine. But the results are ghastly! Soon our hero and a fat little boy named Bruno are both turned into mice, which horrifies Bruno's parents but brings out the best in Grandma. Eluding housekeepers and hotel managers intent on drowning him in a fire-bucket, the little boy-cum-mouse turns the tables on the evil witches once and for all.

This is, without a doubt, one of Dahl's most irresistible stories, and Grandma is one of his quirkiest heroes. You'll love the little orphan boy, you'll be tickled and grossed out by Bruno, and of course the witches are simply priceless. I also recommend the film based on this book, starring Anjelica Huston as the high witch of the world. I still remember the delightful way she seemed to fight down an urge to vomit whenever she pronounced the word "children." These are not Hogwarts-type witches, but disgusting, creepy-crawly creatures of evil whose undoing is a joy to behold.

The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar and Six More
by Roald Dahl
Recommended Age: 12+

This is a set of six stories, aimed at adults actually. Roald Dahl's grown-up stories are as excellent as his young-readers' ones. They often have a sense of irony that reminds me of O. Henry. Nevertheless, I found this book among others by Dahl in the children's section of Barnes & Noble, and I suppose you may find it there too.

One of these six stories is an autobiographical account called "Lucky Break: How I Became A Writer"--including yet another awful account of growing up in British boarding schools, of which I can't remember reading any story that wasn't revolting, brutal and sad. In this case one of the brutal headmasters was later the Archbishop of Canterbury who crowned Queen Elizabeth II, and who (according to Dahl) actually beat boys bloody in his schoolmaster days. Dahl goes on to recount his experiences in WWII as an RAF fighter pilot and how a chance meeting with C. S. Forester (author of the Horatio Hornblower stories) led him to write his first story, an account of all that he remembers of the time he was shot down over Africa. Forester actually wanted Dahl to give him the details of the story so Forester himself could write it for the Saturday Evening Post, but he was so staggered by what Dahl wrote that he submitted it unchanged & sent a check to Dahl along with a letter telling him (to Dahl's surprise) that he was a gifted writer.

It's a very interesting account, and it concludes with the first story that Dahl wrote, "A Piece of Cake," vintage 1942, which starts out like a fighter pilot adventure but turns out mostly to consist of a series of hallucinations Dahl suffered after having his skull cracked open and suffering burns in a fiery plane crash. Dahl also claims to have invented the term "gremlins" in a children's story that Disney started to make into an animated movie, then left unfinished. The story was published with illustrations from the aborted Disney cartoon and became such a hit that the concept of "gremlins" causing damage to Allied fighters and bombers went into military aviation folklore. My favorite animated cartoon of all time dates from WWII and is a Bugs Bunny short about gremlins. (Best moment: after a long and intense sequence in which it seems Bugs' plane is going to crash, the machine stops dead about 2 feet off the ground and Bugs exclaims, "What do you know! Ran out of gas!") I wonder how closely that story is related to the Disney movie that never happened?

Also in the book are a handful of stories which Dahl narrates from the point of view of a professional writer either eye-witnessing the events in the story or being given the material to write a true account after the fact: "The Boy Who Talked with Animals," "The Hitchhiker," and "The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar." Actually Dahl reveals in his autobiographical account that these, like almost everything he wrote, were pure fiction developed from two-or-three-sentence ideas he scribbled in an old notebook. (He lets you see the ideas as he originally wrote them, also for "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" and "Fantastic Mr. Fox"). A fourth story, "The Mildenhall Treasure," actually is non-fiction, the only non-fiction Dahl ever wrote other than that first story. And the other story in the book, "The Swan," makes no pretence of being anything but fiction. Nevertheless he does such an amazing job creating scenes that come alive in your mind's eye, that you can nearly believe that these fantastic tales are true.

In "The Boy Who Talked With Animals," the writer/narrator is vacationing in Jamaica when he sees a disturbance on the beach. A crowd of people is watching a group of fishermen drag an enormous, ancient turtle out of the sea, up toward the hotel, where it is to become steaks and soup for the hotel guests and its polished shell will be sold at a high price. Along comes a little boy named David who loves animals, and who becomes hysterical at the sight of this cruelty. He eventually prevails on his father to buy the turtle and have it set free. The next day another disturbance happens: David has disappeared. The only clue of what happened to him for years afterward is a few sightings of a boy riding a turtle's back...

In "The Hitchhiker," the author/narrator is driving his fancy BMW convertible to London when he picks up a man who first boasts, then later proves himself, to be a world-class pickpocket. Or rather, "fingersmith," which is infinitely more than a pickpocket, a truly amazing and ingenious fellow.

In "The Mildenhall Treasure," a man who makes a living plowing other men's fields, accidentally discovers the greatest buried treasure ever found in the history of England. He doesn't know that this discovery could make him a millionaire, under the laws of the land... nor does he know that another man's greed will prevent that from happening.

In "The Swan," which takes place near a small English town, two young hooligans fiddling around with a rifle decide to terrorize and torment a smaller, weaker, smarter boy named Peter Watson. Poor Peter is unable to resist because he doesn't know what these vicious armed boys might do, and he fears that if he stands up to them it will only go worse for him. But his courage prevails in the end, when it comes to a matter of life or death, after atrocity upon atrocity has driven him to the point of desperation. It is, at its climax, a depiction of the inner strength some people display when they're pushed to the edge and beyond. It is also, throughout its length, a depiction of the monstrous evil inside even the youngest people that, once a person commits himself to it, he can only carry it forward and may not even think of turning back. For instance, Peter is tied to a railroad track and forced to find a way to survive being run over by a train. That's just the first thing they do to him; it gets worse from there!

In "The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar," a rich idle playboy discovers a manuscript account of how an Indian yogi learned to see without his eyes. Henry Sugar realizes that if he follows the yogi's procedure, with effort and time he could learn to see through playing cards and make a fortune at casinos. So for three years he trains himself, through intense concentration, to see what's on the other side of a playing card. Then he goes out and strikes it rich at a casino, and realizes that his years of meditation have changed more than his sense of sight. The money no longer matters to him. An interesting chain of events follows by which Henry Sugar discovers his new mission in life...

All of these are rich, wonderful stories, or at least well-developed snapshots of life with an interesting twist. I suppose when you get down to it, the first two stories are more like ideas for a story that never happens. But they're that much more realistic for it, I think. They're like what happens in real life, that become the basis for a more developed story when a fiction writer sits down to work on the material. "The Boy Who Talked To Animals" could have been an adventure of a Dr. Doolittle type child living it up around the world without parents, going native with nobody for company but the animals who love him. But that's been done. What hasn't been done before, is the idea that such a child existed in the real world and a real live writer had a weird brush with him on a Jamaican beach. "The Hitchhiker" could have been a novel about the career of a fingersmith, which I'm sure would be entertaining, but the short story gives you all you really need to know and grabs you with the idea that such a person really exists. And who knows, you may see him hitchhiking along a highway near you. The "Mildenhall Treasure" could have been a more dramatic tale of betrayal and justice, but instead it has the fascination of being an extraordinary true story that happened to a very ordinary man. And "Henry Sugar" actually makes reference to one of the characters in it planning to write a novel on the subject, partly in explanation for why certain details are left out. But the one story in this collection that is simply a perfect, self-standing, fully-developed work of fiction is "The Swan," which gives you a suspenseful and moving glimpse into the goodness and courage some boys have inside them, and the ugly cowardice at the heart of others.