The daughter of the second most important man in France, Louis XVI's Minister of Finances, Jacques Necker, Madame de Stael was born into a world of political and intellectual prominence. Later, she married Sweden's ambassador to the French court, and for a span of twenty years, she held the limelight as a political figure and prolific writer. Despite a plain appearance, she was notoriously seductive and enjoyed whirlwind affairs with some of the most influential men of her time. She always attracted controversy, and was demonized by Napoleon for her forthrightness, the sheer power of her intellect, and the progressiveness of her salon, which was a hotbed for the expression of liberal ideals. The emperor exiled her, on and off, for the last fifteen years of her life. Madame de Stael--force of nature, exuberant idealist, and ultimate enthusiast--waged a lifelong struggle against all that was tyrannical, cynical, or passionless in her time, and left Europe a legacy of enlightened liberalism that radiated throughout the continent during the nineteenth century.

    (He died on July 31st, 2012 at the age of 86.) The triumphant arc of Vidal’s literary career wasn’t solely a mastery of language, though that never hurts. Handsome, poised, slim, charismatic, able to hold his own in verbal fisticuffs without losing his imperious cool, Vidal was the premiere star author of his generation, the one who elevated the role of talk-show guest to a command performance--a theatrical event. He brought the electronic crackle of the TV screen to his prose and the tactical precision of his prose to combat debate on TV. His near-violent altercations on camera with William F. Buckley, Jr. and Norman Mailer are the stuff of YouTube legend and the secret to The Gore Supremacy. A contributing writer to Vanity Fair, a partisan observer of pop culture, and the author of the New York-in-the-70s memoir Lucking Out (which comes out in paperback this fall), James Wolcott has been a closeup observer of Vidal on-camera and off for more years than seems respectable. This, his first Kindle Single, is his way of paying homage--and saying goodbye.

    There he would be incarcerated in a cell next door to the Man with the Iron Mask. . .From a glittering zenith as the King’s first minister, builder of the chateau of Vaux-le-Vicomte, collector of books, patron of the arts and lover of beautiful women, Fouquet had fallen like Icarus. Charged with embezzlement, he was convicted and sentenced to banishment until the King intervened to change his sentence to life imprisonment.Charles Drazin’s riveting account brings to life the rich and hazardous world in which Foucquet lived. But it is in his downfall and incarceration, which he bore with great fortitude, courage and humour, that Fouquet’s strength of character and grace emerge. The richness and contrasts of his remarkable story are done full justice in this compelling book.

    A mixed group of twenty-six men, some of the Marshals came from aristocratic backgrounds, some had originally pursued tradesmen careers as drapers and bakers, and others rose from total poverty to hold the highest positions in the empire below the emperor himself. Delderfield's exciting chronicle of these men and their battles tells of their origins, their elevation under the rule of Napoleon, the kingships achieved by some and the betrayals of others, and the Marshals' changing relationship with their leader as the fortunes of the empire rose and fell.

    . . A LARD raised his head. It was a pleasant voice, though a little drunken, and the words came clearly enough, a trifle blurred about the con sonants, to the high window of the Maison du Poirier. The window was open, for the June night was hot, and there were few noises after ten oclock in the Place du Parvis Notre Dame. Time goes by, And naught do I. Time comes again, . . . Et ne fais rien Abelards smile broadened. I am very sure, my friend, said he, that you do not. But at any rate he had found a good tune. The listeners ear was quick. He began not ing it on the margin of his manuscript, while his brain busied itself fitting Latin words to the original a pity to waste so good a tune and so profound a sentiment on a language that was the breath of a day, Fugit hora, Absque mora, Nihil facio . . . Not to that tune. The insinuating, if doomed, vernacu lar lilted again. Abelard realized that he was spoiling the 3 PETER ABELARD margin of his Commentary on Ezekiel, and turned back resolutely. Now, as Augustine says, our concern with any man is not with what eloquence he teaches, but with what evidence. But the thread of his argument was broken he got up and came over to the window. The singing had stopped, but he could see the tonsured head below him, glimmeringlike a mushroom in the dusk, while the legs tacked uncertainly across the broad pavement of the Parvis Notre Dame on their way to the cheerful squalors of the Petit Pont. Suddenly they halted the moon had come out from a drifting haze, and the singer, pausing on the edge of a pool of light, peered at it anxiously, and then lifted up his eyes. The voice rose again, chastened, this time in the venerable cadences of the hymn for dawn Jam lucis orto sidere Statini oportct bibere. The blasphemous pup, said Abelard. He leaned out, to hear the rest of it Now risen is the star of day. Let us arise and drink straightway. That we in peace this day may spend, Drink we and drink, nor make an end. This was a better parody, because a simpler, than the one he had made upon it himself ten years ago, to illus trate for his students the difference between the acci dents and the essential, the accidents being the words, the essential the tune. Lord, the Blessed Gosvins face when he began singing it Doubtless he would be the Blessed Gosvin some day so holy a youth could not fail of a 4 THE CLOISTER OF NOTRE DAME sanctified old age. St. Gosvin perhaps the youngster was Prior already at ... he had forgotten where. The im pudent, smooth-faced prig. Abelards mind was running down a channel it knew and did not like the moment in the classroom at St. Genevieve, when Gosvins reedy treble had interrupted the resonant voice from the rostrum with those innocent questionings, answered contemptuously, the masters eyes half averted and his mind less than half attentive, till the sudden horrid silence brought him to his senses and he realized that he was trapped, even as he had so often trapped that good old goat, William of Champeaux. He had recovered, magnificently but for the moment he had felt the hounds at his throat. And the cheering had been too vehement they knew. Somebody on the lie de Cite that night made a song about David and Goliath, not a very good song, but the name had stuck to him since, though not many remembered the origin of it. A pity, all the same, that Gosvin took to the cloister. It w r ould be very pleasant to have him lecturing to empty benches at St. Genevieve, while at Notre Dame the stu dents wedged open the doors and stood thick on the stairs...

    Her latest memoir – the long-awaited sequel to Tout Soul – features more tales from the French countryside and takes the reader on a 3000-kilometre road trip from Paris to Spain and Portugal. Accompanied by her sixteen-year-old niece and her charismatic black dog Biff, the author mingles with surfers in Biarritz, upsets religious pilgrims in Fatima and learns never to argue with a Spanish waiter. She also discovers Lisbon’s best-kept secret and how to ‘be like a bee’ in Madeira. Meanwhile, back in France, a new expat is behaving very badly indeed… Featuring a quirky cast of characters in the French countryside, Sweet Encore is sprinkled with anecdotes form the author’s previous life as a fashion editor – meeting Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy in New York, incurring the wrath of a famous Italian fashion designer, and receiving an invitation to a private dinner with Madonna in Milan. So, pour yourself a glass of something chilled, sit back and enjoy a sparkling summer read.

    

    As the beloved, longtime PR director for the New York Mets, he has witnessed and quietly shaped some of the most memorable moments in team history, becoming a trusted friend and mentor to generations of players, from Darryl Strawberry to Jacob deGrom. In this fascinating memoir, Horwitz tells the unlikely story of a childhood dream come true, offering an unparalleled insider's perspective on four dynamic and unpredictable decades of Mets baseball. Featuring reflections and anecdotes only Horwitz can tell, on subjects ranging from clubhouse hijinks to the chaotic New York media scene to navigating moments of greatness and defeat, Mr. Met is a remarkable behind-the-scenes ride that fans will not want to miss.

    As an impressionable bride of seventeen who married a man more than twice her age, Grace's remarkable beauty (likened by journalists to "a May morning") soon attracted the attentions of other men. A disastrous liaison with a consummate rake not only branded Grace as a demi-rep - a woman with half a reputation - but the scandal provoked Dr. John Eliot, her philandering husband, to pursue a divorce.Grace became mistress of the most infamous peer in England, George James, Lord Cholmondeley, whose "secret perfections" were reputed to inspire "female enthusiasm." Cholmondeley commemorated the relationship by commissioning two works from eminent portraitist Thomas Gainsborough, first in 1778 and later in 1782, the same year Grace gave birth to a daughter, Georgiana (who may, in fact, have been the child of the Prince of Wales). Had Grace been an aristocrat, she and Cholmondeley might have had a future together, but it was not to be.The tabloids broke the news: "Miss Dalrymple has embarked for France, and it is said parted with her noble gallant." Grace was soon to find a new protector in that nation's richest man, Philippe, Duc d'Orleans. Though Grace was ensconced as "one of the most brilliant and popular among the fashionable 'impures,'" her liaison with the duke turned perilous when Orleans fell to the Revolution's guillotine, just as she narrowly escaped with her life."People die, but love may not," declares author Jo Manning of her subject's romantic and historic misadventures. A connoisseur of the times, Manning ably demonstrates - through contemporary newspapers, magazines, prints, and portraits as well as Grace's posthumously published journal - how life in George III's England and Marie Antoinette's France can seem strangely familiar, especially when history turns to affairs of the heart.

    Jane Juska is a smart, energetic divorcée who decided she’d been celibate too long, and placed the following personal ad in her favorite newspaper, The New York Review of Books:Before I turn 67—next March—I would like to have a lot of sex with a man I like. If you want to talk first, Trollope works for me. This closing reference was a nod to her favorite author, of course. The response was overwhelming, and Juska took a sabbatical from teaching to meet some of the men who had replied. And since her ad made it clear that she wasn’t expecting just hand-holding, her dates zipped from first base to home plate in record time. Juska is a totally engaging, perceptive writer, funny and frank about her exploits. It’s high time someone revealed the fact that older single people are as eager for sex and intimacy as their younger counterparts. Jane Juska’s brave, honest memoir will probably raise eyebrows and blood pressure, but it will undoubtedly appeal to the very large audience of grown-up readers who will be fascinated and inspired by her daring adventure.From the Hardcover edition.

    Along with her husband and pate-loving dog, Folly, they gain insights on the history, people, and daily life. Joyful reading for voyagers and armchair travelers alike!

    Features a song-by-song analysis, a song index for easy reference, and details of compilations and live albums.

    It was there where she first saw a lamb being born, giving her the drive to defy her urban roots and become a professional shepherd. She never looked back.In this uplifting and inspirational memoir, Hannah shares how she broke the stereotypes of her 'townie' beginnings, took risks and faced up to the challenges of being a young woman in a male-dominated industry, and followed her heart to become the Red Shepherdess. But behind the beautiful landscape, talented sheepdogs and eye-catching red hair was a steep learning curve. The physically and mentally demanding conditions she faced as she chased her dreams to build her own Cumbrian farm taught Hannah the values the holds true, including community, leadership, patience and resilience.In Call Me Red, Hannah gives a unique insight into farming life and reveals a mindset and determination that proves no matter your background, with hard graft (and a loyal sheepdog) you can make your dreams a reality.

    In 1897 Isabelle Eberhardt, age 20, left an already unconventional life in Geneva for the Morroccan frontier. Gripped by spiritual restlessness and the desire to break free from the confinements of her society she traveled into the desert, and into the heart of Islam. Her experiences inspired a profound self-examination, and In the Shadow of Islam is today regarded as one of the true classics of travel writing.