I had, of course, heard of the American writer Danielle Steel. Her site states that she's the most popular living author, although I'm pretty sure her impressive sales and translation statistics don't match up to those of JK Rowling. Still, she is evidently widely read in the USA and elsewhere.
Yet, for some reason, I had never read any of her books. However, I was in the local thrift store a few days ago, and saw a whole shelf of Danielle Steel novels. At 30c each, I thought I might try a couple of them. So I picked up a couple that had interesting covers and were in good condition. I thought I might return for more if I liked them.
Yesterday I started reading 'Miracle'. I finished it this morning. Unfortunately, the speed is mainly to do with the shortness of the book. I found it easy enough to read, but not gripping, nor emotional, despite the claim on the front that it would make me 'laugh, cry and care'.
The story is about three people whose lives are drawn together after a major storm in San Francisco. Quinn is a wealthy businessman whose wife died some months previously, after a long illness. Quinn is estranged from his daughter and grandchildren, and carries a huge burden of guilt about his working life. He spent very little time with his family, and poured all his energies into building his empire, and now has many regrets. He has idolised Jane, his wife, and in reading her journals and poems after her death, feels that he never really knew her.
Maggie, his neighbour, is recently divorced. She was devastated when her son died, and it destroyed her marriage. So she too is deeply hurt, and trying to find a way forward in life.
Then there's Jack, a young carpenter who works hard to put the two houses right after the storm damage. Jack is honest and likeable, but has a secret which he is ashamed of.
The three gradually get to know each other, and institute regular Friday evening meals. Quinn wants to sell his house, and move onto a large yacht he is buying, to travel the world and hope to appease his guilt.
There's a lot of potential in this novel.
Unfortunately, in my opinion, very little of the potential is realised.
The writing is repetitive and cliché-ridden, with far too many introspective meanderings and very little in the way of action or conversation. The viewpoints change continually, and the authorial voice is evident, almost like a novel from the end of the 19th century in places.
What could have been heart-rending forays into the past feel self-indulgent and unrealistic. What could have been a dramatic and exciting conclusion, with a moving finale, was flat and rather dull. It was frustrating, because it could have been a very good book, in the hands of a different writer, or even a better editor. But I suppose, once an author has become a top-seller, novels are churned out rapidly, with nobody bothering to check for repetition or annoying clichés.
Checking other reviews, I see that this was considered a disappointing book, even by some of Danielle Steel's fans. So I'll read the other one I bought, in a month or two, and hope it's better. I'm sure she must have written some excellent books to have become so popular; even 'Miracle' had a good plot, and three main characters who were vivid and well-drawn.
As a plus, given the 'chick-lit' nature of this book, the love scenes, such as they are, are very low-key with no more than a kiss actually described. There's also a pleasing lack of bad language, unusual in modern novels.
I wouldn't really recommend this one, though, unless you want something very light and quick to read, without any emotional pull.
Review copyright Sue's Book Reviews, 30th November 2008
As a young teenager, I very much enjoyed the first four books in Lorna Hill's 'Sadler's Wells' series about young ballet dancers. I think I vaguely knew there were further books in the series, but they were not in print at the time.
In recent years, they evidently came into print again. I've managed to acquire a few more of her books, in paperback, from charity shops. Unfortunately, they've all been somewhat disappointing, not (in my opinion) living up to the promise of the first four.
I picked up 'Principal Role' recently, very inexpensively, and decided to read it for some light entertainment after a somewhat heavier novel. I like children's fiction, and usually find it good for relaxing.
This is the ninth in the Sadler's Wells series, and while it wasn't a bad read, it wasn't very inspiring. The somewhat unlikely story is about Fazia, Crown Princess of a small European country, who is currently in exile.
The book opens in Switzerland, where she longs for freedom but is cooped up with her bodyguard, and - after a while - a nice young English governess called Elizabeth. Fazia is extremely good at ballet, and is destined for the Royal Ballet School in London in September. However she is not passionate about ballet at all, just seeing it as one more thing she has to learn because her brother, the King, insists.
In somewhat unlikely circumstances, after a series of mild scares, Fazia and Elizabeth bump into a young man called Timothy. He is the likeable son of a Vicar who featured in one or two of the previous books, and who is in love with another ballet dancer.
Then the action moves to London, when Fazia moves there, and also to a small mining village in the North of England, where Timothy lives. The story brings in several characters from previous books, whom I vaguely remembered. However this would probably be rather confusing (not to mention pointless) for anyone who had not read the others.
The style is fairly rushed, and the characters are pretty flat. In the earlier books, Lorna Hill wrote in the first person, so we got far more of an insight into some of the individuals. But this book is written from several third person perspectives, and it really doesn't work all that well.
It's not a bad book - if one forgets how very unlikely the basic plot is - but I'm not sure who it would appeal to. The style is that of children's books, yet the main character is 15, and the issues - such as they are - would probably not be of much interest to young children. I suppose it's really only appropriate for people like me who remember the series fondly from childhood.
No longer in print anywhere, apparently, but sometimes available second-hand.
Review copyright Sue's Book Reviews, 29th November 2008
I've read one book by Jodi Picoult, but had never actually picked up what is probably her best-known novel. I was in two minds about reading it at all; I knew the plot was about a girl with severe leukaemia, and her sister who was a designer baby. She was conceived for the purpose of donating her umbilical cord, and then other cells. I knew it was about a difficult legal case, too. And neither the medical nor legal aspects appealed.
Yet when I read 'Perfect Match', by the same author, I was very impressed. So when a friend offered to lend me 'My Sister's Keeper', I agreed with some enthusiasm.
The story opens as Anna, the younger sister, finds a lawyer - Campbell Alexander - and tells him that she wants to sue her parents for medical emancipation. She no longer wishes to donate organs to her sister Kate, and wants to make her own decisions rather than having her parents decide for her. Campbell, rather against his better judgement, agrees to take on the case.
The novel takes place over just a few days, as the case progresses. It's told from several different viewpoints - Anna, her mother Sara, her father Brian, her brother Jesse, Campbell and also Julia, who becomes Anna's temporary guardian: someone who may be able to make a decision about what is right for the family, without being emotionally involved.
There are a lot of subplots cleverly interwoven in this novel: we get to understand some of the past, and how Kate was first diagnosed. We see some of Anna's pain as she has to give first cells, and then bone marrow, to help her sister. We see Jesse feel unloved because Kate's needs are always put first: Jesse response by behaving in increasingly anti-social ways. Anna is more inclined to feel invisible, and used. Yet both of them are clearly very fond of Kate.
Brian is a likeable sort of person; he's a fire-fighter, and works long hours, sometimes trying to lose himself in his work. Sara is less believable; she's totally focussed on Kate, and will do anything possible to help her. That's understandable, of course; any mother would do the same. But it seems as if she hardly notices her other children, unaware of how hurt they both feel.
There's another whole sub-plot involving Campbell and Julia, who were once lovers, and who are still attracted to each other. And there's a strange, almost humorous ongoing subplot involving Campbell's dog. He's a service dog, yet Campbell is not blind. People keep asking him why he has a service dog, and his answers are more and more ludicrous as the book progresses.
When we finally discover why he has a service dog, I felt that I should have guessed, except that it didn't quite add up. He has a condition that should have been controllable by medication, and - more significantly - which should have prevented him from doing something which he does throughout the book, and again in the final chapters.
But the real plot, of course, is about the legal case. It's very thought-provoking, raising some interesting ethical issues. I had no idea what the judge was going to rule in the end, after some days of legal discussions; it was handled very well, I thought, and I was pleased with the decision.
Unfortunately, the final unexpected and shocking chapters felt tacked on the end, as if the author couldn't quite figure out how to finish the book. In a way it wasn't surprising... I'd half expected something that would turn the story upside-down, but the way it happened was dreadful, and then it was over too quickly.
Still, it was very well-written and surprisingly readable. The medical and legal aspects were woven in so well that they felt like part of the story; either Jodi Picoult has personal experience, or she has done some excellent and thorough research. The details weren't overdone or boring - the balance seemed, to me, exactly right. Had the ending been different, even if it was the obvious one, I'd have rated this very highly.
Recommended anyway, if only for bringing up so many intriguing issues related to family ethics and parenting.
Review copyright Sue's Book Reviews, 27th November 2008
I'd never heard of Pete Ward. Apparently he's a university lecturer in the UK, involved in theology and culture research. This book was in our house because it was one of the books on the reading list for my son when he did the first year of the Open Theology course last year. It sat on his shelf for a while, but I decided to expand my horizons a little, and thus picked it up.
'Liquid Church' suggests, in essence, that it's time to abandon the traditional idea that church mainly consists of Sunday morning gatherings. Or, if not to abandon it entirely, at least to expand what we mean by 'church', given the 21st century and the general lack of interest in what the traditional (or 'solid') church does by most of the general public.
He demonstrates that 'solid church' had its basis first in mediaeval culture, where communities were fairly close-knit. The church was a focal point for all to gather, and was all-encompassing. As society changed, so the church changed to suit modern, consumerist tastes. That means that in the 20th century we would see dozens of different denominations all vying for custom (so to speak). People move around, and decide what they do and don't like, so they gravitate to the style of worship they are most comfortable with, and the people they like best, and the teaching they trust.
This isn't a bad thing, Ward assures us, but it's not enough. Church, since about the 1950s, has tended to be either a beacon to our heritage, or a refuge for those who happen to like the style of Sunday services. Yes, it still attracts newcomers, but the majority are those who move from other areas, who were already Christian believers. Churches already provide many different outreach programs - youth ministries, 'seeker-sensitive' services, Alpha courses, evangelistic campaigns, and so on, in order to introduce people to Jesus. These have to happen because most people wouldn't go near a traditional - or even modern - church service. So why do we expect them to do so after they have made a commitment to Christ?
With mobile phones and the Internet, the author tells us, society is now far more fluid than it has ever been. Many people have the image of the church as a boat, floating on the stormy seas of society. But perhaps, he suggests, it would be more appropriate to see church as already in society - in the meetings and networks that so many of us already have. There may be a place for Sunday services, but church is so much more than that - any Christians gathering to glorify God are also part of the Body of Christ, and thus 'church'.
Trying to persuade people into 'solid' church often results in turning them away altogether. The teaching is often either very basic, or heavily theological - no sermon can fulfil the needs of both the long-term comfortable believer and the brand-new Christian. The songs are generally watered down, to meet the lowest common denominator of people's preferences. Probably the most important part of traditional church is the chat and networking that happens over coffee after the service has finished.
There's much more, of course. It's quite a heavy read - the author is, after all, a theologian - and I found one chapter a day quite enough. It helped that I already agreed with much of what he said; it does seem that God is doing new things, and that we need to allow our horizons to expand when we think of what 'church' means. This is not syncretism - it's seeing what God is doing already, and going along with him.
The chapters alternate theological and sociological concerns, and I found that a lot of things fell into place as I read. The final chapter outlines some of the author's dreams for the 'liquid' church of the future, some of which are beginning to happen in some places.
My one concern is that if the traditional churches die out, and we concentrate on the networks of believers, it would be all too easy to go astray. TV evangelists attract huge audiences and followings, and in a sense are another form of liquid church; yet many of them are not following the gospel of Christ who calls us to renounce everything to follow him. While it's true that some 'solid church' leaders are also manipulative, or produce false teaching, they do - usually - have some guidelines and overseers, and general accountability that should keep them at least roughly on the rails.
I'm not one for accountability in general, but the idea of liquid church as a total free-for-all seems a bit frightening. Yes, Pete Ward stresses the importance of preaching Jesus, and adhering to Scriptural principles, and glorifying God. But many new or immature Christians - and even some more mature ones - can easily be taken in by glitz and glamour, and the promises of an easy life that seem to come too easily from many TV shows or books.
My other slight problem with the author's vision was my own personal dislike of some of his suggestions - of centres where people could wander around and light candles, or look at pictures, and basically do their own thing. I really prefer to be invisible, and to go along with what other people are doing. However, that kind of thing evidently appeals to many so it's just a personal quibble.
Still, overall I thought the book was excellent, and very thought-provoking. I would certainly recommend it to anyone feeling dissatisfied with church, or indeed to those wondering why so many others are unhappy about church.
Review copyright Sue's Book Reviews, 21st November 2008
I hadn't come across Melissa Hill before now. However, this was one of the review books available at The Bookbag site, and the blurb at Amazon made it look interesting.
'Wishful thinking' opens with a prologue: a young woman is hurrying to the commuter train to get to work one morning. She observes a few of the other travellers... and then suddenly, something shocking happens.
The book moves back four months, and introduces us to three women. I found it hard to remember who was whom, since I'm not very good with names and the viewpoint kept switching between them. However, there's a handy summary on the back of the book which I referred to frequently.
Rosie is a widowed mother of two young adults, who have turned out to be manipulative and selfish. Rosie gives in to them both far too easily, but as a mother myself, I could somewhat understand why she did so.
Dara was was recently married to Mark. Unfortunately, she still hankers after Noah, a previous boyfriend. Noah married someone else, but then unexpectedly returns into Dara's life, and she spends a lot of time wondering what she should do. I felt a bit frustrated with her, since Mark was so obviously perfect for her.
Then there's Louise, who is really annoying. She has recovered from an accident, found a job, made some new friends, and lost quite a bit of weight. But she has no idea how to handle money, and keeps getting herself increasingly deeper into debt. She won't refuse her friends anything, and although she's worried about her debts, she carries on spending yet more.
The book is a series of subplots involving these three women, whose lives seem to spiral nearer and nearer to disaster. It was a clever idea to use the prologue, since it raised the tension and meant that when it eventually happened it felt like an integral part of the novel.
I found 'Wishful thinking' both enjoyable and frustrating. I didn't feel I got to know any of the e women fully, since their viewpoints alternated throughout the book. Yet I did start to care about them. I wanted to give them all a good talking-to; they got under my skin sufficiently that I was annoyed by their extreme weaknesses, and pleased when things worked out satisfactorily, on the whole, in the end.
I was relieved that the author didn't fall into the trap of describing either shopping or bedroom scenes in detail, and that she did not use much bad language. I also liked the way she tidied up most of the loose ends in the final chapters. It's somewhat more thought-provoking than typical light women's fiction, and although it's undoubtedly light, and wouldn't appeal to most men, I found myself enjoying it more and more as I read it.
I know nothing about Mary Batchelor. On the other hand, I have heard many times of Catherine Bramwell-Booth. I think I may even have seen her being interviewed on television in the early 1980s, around the time of her 100th birthday. I knew she was a tireless, redoubtable old woman in the Salvation Army, and was pleased when I spotted this biography for a few pence on a second-hand stall.
'Catherine Bramwell-Booth' is well-written, charting Catherine's life from birth thought to her centenary. It also gives some background into her parents' and grandparents' lives, in particular William Booth, her grandfather, who was the founder of the Salvation Army in the 19th century.
Catherine was born in 1883, the oldest of a family of seven children. She became involved in her parents' work almost immediately, and dedicated her life to God when she was only about six. She went on to do tireless work in the UK and elsewhere, preaching, teaching and serving as required. She also wrote some books, and some poetry, and in her retirement became quite a personality on TV talk shows.
There was much that I hadn't previously known - that Catherine was quite ill as a younger woman, for instance, and that she was really very shy. Nor did I know much about the kind of work she did. The book doesn't go into morbid details of the difficult situations and abuse she witnessed, but describes enough to make the reader understand just how much she did. This is all the more surprising considering when she was born, when women were mostly expected to stay home and raise families.
I already had a lot of respect for the Salvation Army, and that only increased as a result of reading this book. I find their army-style labels (general, captain, commissioner, etc) rather bizarre, as is their uniform. But nobody could doubt the incredible work they did amongst the homeless and hungry during the early part of the 20th century.
I felt the book was written in a comfortable style, with anecdotes from various people's memories, snippets from letters and magazine articles, and Catherine's own reminiscences. The author clearly did extensive research and knew her subject well. I read a couple of chapters of this every day for a little over a week, and found it quite inspiring.
All in all, this biography is well worth reading for anyone wanting to know more about this amazing lady, or the work of the Salvation Army. Unfortunately no longer in print, but it may be possible to find it second-hand; it can also sometimes be found as an ebook.
Review copyright Sue's Book Reviews, 12th November 2008
I've known of LM Montgomery since my early teenage years, when I first came across the classic 'Anne of Green Gables'. It was some time, however, before I realised that there were sequels to this book. I read most of them in my late teens and early twenties, but it's only in recent years that we've managed to collect all eight at home.
'Anne of Ingleside' is the sixth book in the series, set in the early 20th century in Canada. In this novel, Anne is in her thirties, happily married with six children. They live in a large house called Ingleside, and have many local friends. They have a hard time when Gilbert's rather sour aunt arrives for a few weeks, and stays several months; Anne's patience is tried to the limit, and the children are very unhappy. But eventually she leaves, due - ironically - to Anne deciding to be nicer to her.
The book really charts the children's first few years. The sixth child, Rilla, is born during the course of this book, and is about five by the end, while Jem - the oldest - is the grand old age of eleven by the time the book finishes. There are plenty of minor incidents, including one of the children becoming 'best friends' with two entirely unsuitable girls, and learning some important lessons as a result. There are a couple of very moving chapters involving Jem and some dogs, which had me in floods of tears; one or two other places of the book brought tears to my eyes, too.
Unfortunately, I thought that some of the other chapters were rather dull. One, for instance, features a quilting party with several ladies at Ingleside, most of whom barely appear in the rest of the book. They gossip about mutual acquaintances and past events... none of which adds anything to the lives of the children, or even involves Anne (who isn't present for most of the gossip). There are other sections which simply describe things that happen without any real human interest.
Still, overall I enjoyed the book very much. I think I've only read it once or twice before, many years ago, and I'd entirely forgotten it.
Recommended to anyone who's read at least one or two of the previous 'Anne' books. It could probably stand alone, but is much better as part of the series. Intended for teenagers, but these days probably enjoyed more by middle-aged adults. This, like others in the series, is regularly re-printed.
Review copyright Sue's Book Reviews, 9th November 2008
I first came across Catherine Palmer's books a few years ago, when I picked up three of them very inexpensively on the MV Doulos. I found them reasonably enjoyable, although very light and a bit predictable. I wouldn't necessarily have bought any more of her books, but was then given some by a friend leaving the island, who didn't want to take all her books back to her home country.
'A touch of betrayal' is the third in the Heartquest 'Treasures of the heart' series about four adult siblings who live in various places around the world. This one features Grant, who's a researcher and writer living in a tent in Kenya.
It starts, however, with Alexandra, a fashion designer from the USA, who has just arrived at Nairobi airport, for a business trip combined with a holiday. She's from a fairly wealthy family, and takes for granted her lifestyle of expensive hair-dos, designer clothes, and all the modern conveniences of life that can be found in America. She is rather annoyed not to be met at the airport, and reluctantly accepts a ride with Grant, who she notices as the only other white person. Grant is there to meet his adopted Mama, a lovely old African lady who brought him and his sisters up after their mother died.
From the opening, it's clear that Grant and Alexandra are going to get together. What I didn't expect was something of a thriller, with several very tense moments and some extreme danger before the inevitable conclusion. Grant and Alexandra both learn a great deal about themselves, and Alexandra in particular learns to adjust her values and expectations, and begins to care about the new people she meets.
The author is clearly familiar with Kenya - or has done some excellent research - and the environment and people there came alive to me as I read. I found Grant and Alexandra a little bit two-dimensional and predictable, but the plot was exciting enough to keep me reading, almost unable to put it down by the end.
There's a Christian thread running through this book, as with all Catherine Palmer's novels, but it's not preachy. The African Mama gets away with a lot of Scripture quoting, and Alexandra's relationship with God is realistic. One character becomes a believer during the course of the novel, but it doesn't come across as forced in the context.
All in all, an enjoyable light read. Although it follows after 'A Kiss of Adventure' (which I haven't read) and 'A whisper of danger', it's not necessary to have read either of them first; each novel is complete in itself.
Review copyright Sue's Book Reviews, 4th November 2008
I do like Gerald Durrell's writing, particularly the stories of his childhood in Corfu, of which 'My family and other snimals' is his first and best-known work. Durrell's main passion in life was the animal kingdom; he was a naturalist and eventually a zoo-keeper, neither of which would interest me at all in the normal way. But his style of writing is excellent: instructive without being dull, and often very amusing.
I first read 'Birds, beasts and telatives' during my teens, and have probably re-read it at least once since then. Recently I decided I wanted something light to read, so I've been reading this for the past few days. It's not the kind of gripping literature that means I can barely put down, but it's ideal a relaxing chapter or two at the end of the day.
This book charts further incidents in the life of Gerry's family when they lived in Corfu in the late 1930s. Life was relatively simple, people could be trusted, and while he casually refers to the locals as 'peasants', he considers them his friends rather than being in any way inferior. I'm sure there was considerable poetic license taken in the recalling of family discussions and eccentricities, but the lifestyle and environment certainly seem to be recorded accurately.
There are some wonderful incidents involving Larry, the eldest of the family, and his bizarre friends, always made welcome by the inexhaustible Mother. She flaps around after her brood slightly helplessly at times, but provides vast amounts of food at regular intervals, and deals remarkably well with Gerry's bizarre menagerie, consisting of insects, sea-life and amphibians, as well as dogs, birds and even a donkey.
Gerry meets some remarkable people, describes in minute detail various incidents in the lives of his creatures, and gives us some classic cross-conversational humour with his family and friends. I did find some of the natural history descriptions slightly lengthy in places, and skimmed a paragraph or two; however it was important not to skim too much, or I might have missed something significant.
All in all, very enjoyable. It's not necessary at all to have read 'My family and other animals' first, but it does give the background that is assumed in this book.
While this has been in print regularly, and can often be found second-hand, it isn't always available new. Better value may be the 'Corfu trilogy', now published as a single omnibus edition.
Review copyright Sue's Book Reviews, 3rd November 2008
I'd never heard of Neil Postman, until one of my sons was given this book. Then the other son had to read it as part of a theology course. Neil Postman was apparently a humanist rather than a Christian, however.
'Amusing ourselves to death' is rather dated now. It was written in 1985 when television was immensely popular, particularly in the USA, but computer technology was still in its infancy. It's a thought-provoking book, and while I didn't agree with all that the author wrote, I thought it well worth reading and pondering.
Postman's premise is that George Orwell's vision of the future matched fairly well with Communist countries - restricted information, altered history, 'big brother' watching every move and censoring speech, etc. But he claimed that it is Aldous Huxley's vision which matches far more closely with the reality of the west, and particularly the USA. Huxley saw a world in which nothing was restricted. Instead, people had so much leisure and so much entertainment that they ceased questioning or thinking.
Postman does not actually criticise the entertainment on television, believing that it is - or was - mostly done very well. The problem, he claims, is that far more serious issues have become reduced to show business by being shown on TV. News, religion, politics - he takes a chapter on each, demonstrating how each has had to adapt to fit in with the mass media culture.
News comes in short sound-bites from all over the world, delivered by smiling, smart-looking presenters who expect us to have forgotten it all by the time the show has ended.
Religious television has glamorised, well-dressed men and women spouting prosperity. Even the better of the TV evangelists, he claims, has completely lost any sense of mystery or community that we would find in churches.
As for politics - as I read this book, the run-up to the 2008 American presidential elections were in their final week. He is absolutely right in that balding, frowning, obese men would have no chance at all of being elected in a TV age. Instead recent US presidents have been fast-talking, smiling, smooth operators who respond instantly in a crisis. To the voting public, their lives and personal beliefs seem to matter far more than the policies of the parties they stand for. And even then, we don't see the real people, just the distortions displayed for our viewing pleasure on TV.
Capitalism, Postman claims, is attacked daily by television adverts. No longer can consumers choose carefully between several good products, selecting the best quality that will most meet their needs. Instead they are bombarded with dubious claims about the products in question, and emotional appeals to get in touch with long-lost relatives (using a particular phone line, or email provider) or treat the love of their lives to the best coffee, or chocolate, or perfume.
There's a lot in this book, and while it's a little heavy-going in places, I found it very readable. I didn't agree with all he wrote, however. He seemed to think that the age of lengthy talks and debates was somehow 'better' than the age of technology and fast-moving pictures. I agree that it's different, and that perhaps we have lost something, but we seem to have gained something too. Yes, much of the information we are fed is trivial, and school curricula tend to be disjointed, sometimes (as in one example he quotes) even based around a televised series where the subject is actually chosen not because it's of use to students, but because it makes good television.
Where does it leave us? Postman is sensible enough to realise that nobody is going to switch off their TVs just because of his book. Those that are addicted will probably remain so, and we're not going to lose the multi-media aspects of life that we now take for granted.
I personally think that with the introduction of home computers, now probably as widespread in the west as television was in the 1980s, we have actually moved on. Computers are interactive; we choose which sites to visit rather than being bombarded with a set TV schedule.
Indeed, with satellite TV there is a great deal more choice over viewing, but television is still essentially a top-down medium, whereas computers allow us to reply, to debate, and to research at a much greater level.
A lot to think about. Certainly worth reading, in my opinion.
Review copyright Sue's Book Reviews, 1st November 2008