The Unz Review: An Alternative Media Selection
A Collection of Interesting, Important, and Controversial Perspectives Largely Excluded from the American Mainstream Media
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Algernon Blackwood Anthony Hope Anthony Trollope Anton Chekhov Arthur Conan Doyle Arthur Quiller-Couch Baroness Orczy Benjamin Disraeli Charles Dickens Dinah Craik E. Phillips Oppenheim Edith Wharton Elizabeth Gaskell Eugene Sue F. Marion Crawford G.A. Henty G.K. Chesterton George Gissing George Meredith Gertrude Atherton H. Rider Haggard H.G. Wells Hamlin Garland Henry James Honore de Balzac Horatio Alger Ivan Turgenev Jack London James Fenimore Cooper Joseph Conrad L. Frank Baum L.M. Montgomery Louisa May Alcott Luise Mühlbach Mrs. Humphry Ward Mrs. Oliphant P.G. Wodehouse Robert Louis Stevenson Sax Rohmer Thomas Hardy Upton Sinclair W. Somerset Maugham Walter Besant Wilkie Collins William Dean Howells William Makepeace Thackeray Brantz Mayer A.T. Mahan Adolf Hitler Agatha Christie Albert Jay Nock Alexandre Dumas Andrew Lang Ann Radcliffe Anne Brontë Anonymous Aristotle Arthur R. Butz Bible Book Booker T. Washington Bram Stoker Brooks Adams Captain Russell Grenfell Cesare Lombroso Charles Callan Tansill Charles Darwin Charlotte Brontë Clark Howard Confucius David Duke David Gordon David Howden David Irving David Ray Griffin E.A. Ross Eden Phillpotts Edgar Allan Poe Edward Bellamy Edward Gibbon Elbert Hubbard Ellsworth Huntington Emile Zola Emily Brontë Evan Whitton Evelyn Dewey F. Scott Fitzgerald Fanny Burney Faustino Ballvé Felix Adler Ford Madox Ford Francis Parkman Frank Chodorov Frank Norris Frank R. Stockton Freda Utley Frederick Jackson Turner Friedrich A. Hayek Friedrich Engels Fyodor Dostoyevsky G.E. Mitton George Eliot George Jean Nathan Gustav Gottheil Gustave Flaubert Guy de Maupassant H.L. Mencken Hans-Hermann Hoppe Harriet Beecher Stowe Harry Elmer Barnes Heinrich Graetz Heinrich Heine Henry Adams Henry Fielding Henry Ford Henry M. Stanley Henryk Sienkiewicz Herbert Westbrook Herman Melville Hermann Hesse Herodotus Homer Hubert Howe Bancroft Hugh Lofting Isabel Paterson J.M. Barrie Jacob A. Riis James Hayden Tufts James Huneker James Joyce James Rice Jane Addams Jane Austen Jared Taylor Jefferson Davis Jeffrey Tucker Joel S.A. Hayward John Beaty John Dewey John Dos Passos John Galsworthy John Maynard Keynes John Reed John Stuart Mill John T. Flynn Jonathan Swift Jules Verne Karl Marx Kenneth Grahame Kevin Barrett Kevin MacDonald Knut Hamsun Laurence Sterne Lawrence H. White Leo Tolstoy Leon Trotsky Lewis Carroll Livy Llewellyn H. Rockwell Jr. Lord Acton Lord Dunsany Lothrop Stoddard Ludwig von Mises Lysander Spooner Marcel Proust Maria Edgeworth Maria Monk Mark Twain Mary Shelley Mary White Ovington Max Eastman Max Nordau Maxim Gorky Michael Collins Piper Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra Mungo Park Murray N. Rothbard Nathaniel Hawthorne Niccolò Machiavelli O. Henry Oscar Wilde Paul Craig Roberts Per Bylund Peter Brimelow Plato Plutarch Ralph Franklin Keeling Richard Francis Burton Richard Lovell Edgeworth Richard Lynn Robert Barr Robert S. Griffin Robin Koerner Rose Wilder Lane Rudyard Kipling S. Baring-Gould Saint Augustine Samuel Butler Sigmund Freud Sinclair Lewis Sisley Huddleston Stanley Weinbaum Stefan Zweig Stendhal Stephen Crane Stephen J. Sniegoski Stephen Mitford Goodson Suetonius Tacitus Theodore Canot Theodore Roosevelt Thomas Babington Macaulay Thomas Bulfinch Thomas C. Taylor Thomas Carlyle Thomas Dixon Thomas Jefferson Thomas More Thomas Nelson Page Thomas Paine Thomas Seltzer Thorstein Veblen Thucydides Ulysses S. Grant Van Wyck Brooks Victor Hugo Virginia Woolf W.E.B. Du Bois Walter Lippmann Walter Scott Washington Gladden Wilfred Wilson Willa Cather Willard Huntington Wright William Graham Sumner William H. Prescott William Henry Chamberlin Wilmot Robertson Winston Churchill Winston S. Churchill Woodrow Wilson
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    December 23 ‘I have just buried my boy, my poor handsome boy of whom I was so proud, and my heart is broken. It is very hard having only one son to lose him thus, but God’s will be done. Who am I that I should complain? The great wheel of Fate rolls on like... Read More
    THE course of this narrative describes the return of a disembodied spirit to earth, and leads the reader on new and strange ground. Not in the obscurity of midnight, but in the searching light of day, did the supernatural influence assert itself. Neither revealed by a vision, nor announced by a voice, it reached mortal... Read More
    “I guess my daughter’s in here,” the old man said leading the way into the little salon de lecture. He was not of the most advanced age, but that is the way George Flack considered him, and indeed he looked older than he was. George Flack had found him sitting in the court of the... Read More
    Translated by Isabel F. Hapgood
    So long as there shall exist, by virtue of law and custom, decrees of damnation pronounced by society, artificially creating hells amid the civilization of earth, and adding the element of human fate to divine destiny; so long as the three great problems of the century—the degradation of man through pauperism, the corruption of woman... Read More
    "Come, you fellows, that's enough joking. This defection of yours, melancholy Eynhardt, combines obstinacy with wisdom, like Balaam's ass! Well! may you rest in peace. And now let us be off." The glasses, filled with clear Affenthaler, rang merrily together, the smiling landlord took up his money, and the company rose noisily from the wooden... Read More
    Essays and Versions
    This book has grown out of studies begun twenty years ago in Italy, and continued fitfully, as I found the mood and time for them, long after their original circumstance had become a pleasant memory. If any one were to say that it did not fully represent the Italian poetry of the period which it... Read More
    or, Hector Servadac
    “Nothing, sir, can induce me to surrender my claim.” “I am sorry, count, but in such a matter your views cannot modify mine.” “But allow me to point out that my seniority unquestionably gives me a prior right.” “Mere seniority, I assert, in an affair of this kind, cannot possibly entitle you to any prior... Read More
    A Realistic Novel
    One day, in the middle of a long literary conversation, Théodore Duret said to me: “I have known in my life two men of supreme intelligence. I knew of both before the world knew of either. Never did I doubt, nor was it possible to doubt, but that they would one day or other gain... Read More
    A Tale of Bush Life in Australia
    In this tale I have left the battlefields of history, and have written a story of adventure in Australia, in the early days when the bush rangers and the natives constituted a real and formidable danger to the settlers. I have done this, not with the intention of extending your knowledge, or even of pointing... Read More
    A Story of The Times of Hannibal
    MY DEAR LADS, When I was a boy at school, if I remember rightly, our sympathies were generally with the Carthaginians as against the Romans. Why they were so, except that one generally sympathizes with the unfortunate, I do not quite know; certainly we had but a hazy idea as to the merits of the... Read More
    My dear Lady Taylor, To your name, if I wrote on brass, I could add nothing; it has been already written higher than I could dream to reach, by a strong and dear hand; and if I now dedicate to you these tales, it is not as the writer who brings you his work, but... Read More
    The rambler who, for old association or other reasons, should trace the forsaken coach-road running almost in a meridional line from Bristol to the south shore of England, would find himself during the latter half of his journey in the vicinity of some extensive woodlands, interspersed with apple-orchards. Here the trees, timber or fruit-bearing, as... Read More
    Whatever claims this story may have upon the notice of the world, they will rest on no niceties of style or aptness of illustration. It is a plain tale, plainly told: nor, as I conceive, does its native horror need any ingenious embellishment. There are many books that I, though a man of no great... Read More
    and Other Fanciful Tales
    In the ancient country of Orn, there lived an old man who was called the Bee-man, because his whole time was spent in the company of bees. He lived in a small hut, which was nothing more than an immense bee-hive, for these little creatures had built their honeycombs in every corner of the one... Read More
    The Winning of a Continent
    My Dear Lads, In the present volume I have endeavoured to give the details of the principal events in a struggle whose importance can hardly be overrated. At its commencement the English occupied a mere patch of land on the eastern seaboard of America, hemmed in on all sides by the French, who occupied not... Read More
    There were three at the breakfast-table—Mr. Newthorpe, his daughter Annabel, and their visitor (Annabel's Cousin), Miss Paula Tyrrell. It was a small, low, soberly-furnished room, the walls covered with carelessly-hung etchings and water-colours, and with photographs which were doubtless mementoes of travel; dwarf bookcases held overflowings from the library; volumes in disorder, clearly more for... Read More
    and Zoroaster
    "The whole of this modern fabric of existence is a living lie!" cried Marzio Pandolfi, striking his little hammer upon the heavy table with an impatient rap. Then he dropped it and turning on his stool rested one elbow upon the board while he clasped his long, nervous fingers together and stared hard at his... Read More
    or, with Peterborough in Spain
    My Dear Lads: There are few great leaders whose lives and actions have so completely fallen into oblivion as those of the Earl of Peterborough. His career as a general was a brief one, extending only over little more than a year, and yet in that time he showed a genius for warfare which has... Read More
    From his place on the floor of the Hemenway Gymnasium Mr. Elbridge G. Mavering looked on at the Class Day gaiety with the advantage which his stature, gave him over most people there. Hundreds of these were pretty girls, in a great variety of charming costumes, such as the eclecticism of modern fashion permits, and... Read More
    It was at Homburg, several years ago, before the gaming had been suppressed. The evening was very warm, and all the world was gathered on the terrace of the Kursaal and the esplanade below it to listen to the excellent orchestra; or half the world, rather, for the crowd was equally dense in the gaming-rooms... Read More
    DENISE had walked from the Saint-Lazare railway station, where a Cherbourg train had landed her and her two brothers, after a night passed on the hard seat of a third-class carriage. She was leading Pépé by the hand, and Jean was following her, all three fatigued after the journey, frightened and lost in this vast... Read More
    The Life and Death of a Man of Character
    One evening of late summer, before the nineteenth century had reached one-third of its span, a young man and woman, the latter carrying a child, were approaching the large village of Weydon-Priors, in Upper Wessex, on foot. They were plainly but not ill clad, though the thick hoar of dust which had accumulated on their... Read More
    BEING MEMOIRS OF THE ADVENTURES OF DAVID BALFOUR IN THE YEAR 1751 HOW HE WAS KIDNAPPED AND CAST AWAY; HIS SUFFERINGS IN A DESERT ISLE; HIS JOURNEY IN THE WILD HIGHLANDS; HIS ACQUAINTANCE WITH ALAN BRECK STEWART AND OTHER NOTORIOUS HIGHLAND JACOBITES; WITH ALL THAT HE SUFFERED AT THE HANDS OF HIS UNCLE, EBENEZER BALFOUR... Read More
    Mr. Utterson the lawyer was a man of a rugged countenance that was never lighted by a smile; cold, scanty and embarrassed in discourse; backward in sentiment; lean, long, dusty, dreary and yet somehow lovable. At friendly meetings, and when the wine was to his taste, something eminently human beaconed from his eye; something indeed... Read More
    The day had been very hot even for the Transvaal, where the days still know how to be hot in the autumn, although the neck of the summer is broken—especially when the thunderstorms hold off for a week or two, as they do occasionally. Even the succulent blue lilies—a variety of the agapanthus which is... Read More
    or, The Apprenticeship of Lemuel Barker
    On their way back to the farm-house where they were boarding, Sewell’s wife reproached him for what she called his recklessness. “You had no right,” she said, “to give the poor boy false hopes. You ought to have discouraged him—that would have been the most merciful way—if you knew the poetry was bad. Now, he... Read More
    A Domestic Story
    THE gentlemen of the jury retired to consider their verdict. Their foreman was a person doubly distinguished among his colleagues. He had the clearest head, and the readiest tongue. For once the right man was in the right place. Of the eleven jurymen, four showed their characters on the surface. They were: The hungry juryman,... Read More
    TO My MOTHER I DEDICATE THIS TALE A MEAN TOKEN OF A LIFELONG AFFECTION SORRENTO, Christmas Day, 1885 The Reverend Augustin Ambrose would gladly have given up taking pupils. He was growing old and his sight was beginning to trouble him; he was very weary of Thucydides, of Homer, of the works of Mr. Todhunter... Read More
    I was not rich—on the contrary; and I had been told the Pension Beaurepas was cheap. I had, moreover, been told that a boarding- house is a capital place for the study of human nature. I had a fancy for a literary career, and a friend of mine had said to me, "If you mean... Read More
    FOR reasons of my own, I excused myself from accompanying my stepmother to a dinner-party given in our neighborhood. In my present humor, I preferred being alone—and, as a means of getting through my idle time, I was quite content to be occupied in catching insects. Provided with a brush and a mixture of rum... Read More
    A Tale of the Luddite Riots
    My Dear Lads: The beginning of the present century, glorious as it was for British arms abroad, was a dark time to those who lived by their daily labor at home. The heavy taxation entailed by the war, the injury to trade, and the enormous prices of food, all pressed heavily upon the working classes.... Read More
    Theodore Warrender was still at Oxford when his father died. He was a youth who had come up from his school with the highest hopes of what he was to do at the university. It had indeed been laid out for him by an admiring tutor with anticipations which were almost certainties: "If you will... Read More
    Stanbury Hill, remote but two hours’ walk from a region blasted with mine and factory and furnace, shelters with its western slope a fair green valley, a land of meadows and orchard, untouched by poisonous breath. At its foot lies the village of Wanley. The opposite side of the hollow is clad with native wood,... Read More
    ‘If anyone had told me what wonderful changes were to take place here in ten years, I wouldn’t have believed it,’ said Mrs Jo to Mrs Meg, as they sat on the piazza at Plumfield one summer day, looking about them with faces full of pride and pleasure. ‘This is the sort of magic that... Read More
    A Tale of the Luddite Riots
    My Dear Lads: The beginning of the present century, glorious as it was for British arms abroad, was a dark time to those who lived by their daily labor at home. The heavy taxation entailed by the war, the injury to trade, and the enormous prices of food, all pressed heavily upon the working classes.... Read More
    or, Through Afghan Passes
    In following the hero of this story through the last Afghan war, you will be improving your acquaintance with a country which is of supreme importance to the British Empire and, at the same time, be able to trace the operations by which Lord Roberts made his great reputation as a general, and a leader... Read More
    or, The Days of King Alfred
    MY DEAR LADS, Living in the present days of peace and tranquillity it is difficult to picture the life of our ancestors in the days of King Alfred, when the whole country was for years overrun by hordes of pagan barbarians, who slaughtered, plundered, and destroyed at will. You may gain, perhaps, a fair conception... Read More
    Every loyal American who went abroad during the first years of our great war felt bound to make himself some excuse for turning his back on his country in the hour of her trouble. But when Owen Elmore sailed, no one else seemed to think that he needed excuse. All his friends said it was... Read More
    A Tale of the Times of Gustavus Adolphus
    MY DEAR LADS, You are nowadays called upon to acquire so great a mass of learning and information in the period of life between the ages of twelve and eighteen that it is not surprising that but little time can be spared for the study of the history of foreign nations. Most lads are, therefore,... Read More
    In giving to the world the record of what, looked at as an adventure only, is I suppose one of the most wonderful and mysterious experiences ever undergone by mortal men, I feel it incumbent on me to explain what my exact connection with it is. And so I may as well say at once... Read More
    In the preface to A Contribution to the Critique of Political Economy, published in Berlin, 1859, Karl Marx relates how the two of us in Brussels in the year 1845 set about: “to work out in common the opposition of our view” — the materialist conception of history which was elaborated mainly by Marx —... Read More
    Midway of the Ponte Vecchio at Florence, where three arches break the lines of the little jewellers' booths glittering on either hand, and open an approach to the parapet, Colville lounged against the corner of a shop and stared out upon the river. It was the late afternoon of a day in January, which had... Read More
    "Olive will come down in about ten minutes; she told me to tell you that. About ten; that is exactly like Olive. Neither five nor fifteen, and yet not ten exactly, but either nine or eleven. She didn't tell me to say she was glad to see you, because she doesn't know whether she is... Read More
    WHEN Bartley Hubbard went to interview Silas Lapham for the "Solid Men of Boston" series, which he undertook to finish up in The Events, after he replaced their original projector on that newspaper, Lapham received him in his private office by previous appointment. "Walk right in!" he called out to the journalist, whom he caught... Read More
    A Tale of Cressy and Poitiers
    MY DEAR LADS, You may be told perhaps that there is no good to be obtained from tales of fighting and bloodshed,—that there is no moral to be drawn from such histories. Believe it not. War has its lessons as well as Peace. You will learn from tales like this that determination and enthusiasm can... Read More
    She was certainly a singular girl, and if he felt at the end that he did n’t know her nor understand her, it is not surprising that he should have felt it at the beginning. But he felt at the beginning what he did not feel at the end, that her singularity took the form... Read More
    IN this book a number of dialects are used, to wit: the Missouri negro dialect; the extremest form of the backwoods Southwestern dialect; the ordinary “Pike County” dialect; and four modified varieties of this last. The shadings have not been done in a haphazard fashion, or by guesswork; but painstakingly, and with the trustworthy guidance... Read More
    A Story of the Zulu and Boer Wars
    As a rule the minor wars in which this country has been from time to time engaged, have been remarkable both for the admirable way in which they were conducted and for the success that attended them. The two campaigns in South Africa, however, that followed each other with but a brief interval, were notable... Read More
    "Man proposes and God disposes." There are but few important events in the affairs of men brought about by their own choice. Although frequently urged by friends to write my memoirs I had determined never to do so, nor to write anything for publication. At the age of nearly sixty-two I received an injury from... Read More
    Among the Diaries beginning with the second quarter of our century, there is frequent mention of a lady then becoming famous for her beauty and her wit: ‘an unusual combination,’ in the deliberate syllables of one of the writers, who is, however, not disposed to personal irony when speaking of her. It is otherwise in... Read More