A collection of stories of people and events in the Florida Keys extending from the time the Keys were first occupied by humans, through the Second Seminole War, the coming of the Overseas Railway, and finally the opening of the first Overseas Highway in 1927. The tales tell of American Indians, Cubans, Bahamians, New Englanders, and of fishing, turtling, shipwreck salvaging, warring, and of course dealing with heat and mosquitoes. John Viele's three volumes, The Florida Keys, have been Keys bestsellers for years. Now he presents a fascinating new batch of historical vignettes.

In the 1990s, the Burtons are surviving as best they can, but Jack Burton continues to control his fractured family even in his absence. John has returned to Mallawindy unable to forgive his father and haunted by vengeful thoughts. Ann has three young sons and is soon to have another child, but still grieves for her firstborn daughter, Mandy. When the river disgorges what appears to be Jack's body, the family's tumultuous history is stirred up again. The eagerly awaited sequel to Mallawindy continues the story of how even those who escape the town have to fight to escape its dark legacy. 'At the heart of this absorbing tale...is the writer's ability to interweave the country-town propensity for rumour and allegation into a gothic narrative... Yesterday's Dust is lightened by its pinpoint descriptions of people and places, as well as the occasional touch of humour, some of it with a country flavour and some delightfully black'–AUSTRALIAN BOOKSELLER AND PUBLISHER Is there such a thing as winter beach reading? If so, Joy Dettmans' Yesterday's Dust fits the bill nicely... an author who's well in tune with her subject and audience–WEEKEND AUSTRALIAN

Everyone is searching for pieces of the Crown of Knossos, historical artifacts which, when assembled, allow control over all of history in this and in the Twisted reality. As Tom and the others discover who is really after the Crown and what their motivations are, they realise the extent of the danger.

The Book As we have seen, Grothendieck is the author of a considerable body of mathematical work. But he is also the author of significant literary works. Among them is R&S, which was published by Gallimard in January 2022 after having been widely distributed on the internet since Grothendieck first wrote the text in 1986. Amounting to more than 1,900 pages, the book deals with many subjects: the author’s journey as a mathematician, his passions, his illusions and disillusions, the process of creation, and a thousand other topics. It also includes long passages on Yin and Yang, feminine and masculine ways of doing mathematics, the mother, the father and child, dreams, and so on. A large part of the text is devoted to a revelation he is said to have experienced in 1976 and a long period of meditation that followed. It is a kind of self-analysis tinged, it has to be said, with a certain degree of paranoia. A recurring theme is the sense of betrayal he felt toward his former students, which is manifested in his work being ignored and forgotten. The words “funeral,” “deceased,” “hearse,” “massacre,” and “gravedigger,” and so on, quickly become omnipresent after their appearance in the table of contents. More generally, the book denounces a loss of ethics among the entire mathematical community. Grothendieck explains to the reader that mathematics “was better before”—that is, prior to 1960—as if the older generation was irreproachable! In fact, on the contrary, it can be said that mathematicians have become much more honest since the 1990s. The source of this miracle has a name: arXiv. It is now becoming ever more difficult to appropriate the ideas of others, although, of course, it is still possible to some degree. The institution of mathematics itself has also been greatly improved, or at least has been greatly transformed. The system of mandarins that dominated French mathematics until the 1970s, from which Grothendieck did not experience any difficulties and about whom he does not say a word, has practically disappeared. Grothendieck, who is very self-critical throughout the text, sometimes ponders whether he might have been arrogant or even contemptuous of those around him during his heyday in the 1960s and 1970s. Despite these concerns, it is clear that he cares little about ingratiating himself with his readers. Instead, he offers a book of more than 1,900 pages, while in response to a question about the IHES library in its early days, he remarks: “We don’t read books, we write them!”18 R&S contains many contradictions that are only partly corrected by a series of Notes—some of which, despite being of particular importance, are not included in this new edition. Addressing these contradictions properly would undoubtedly have required the text to be completely rewritten. Grothendieck is not paralyzed by any sense of false modesty: The thing that struck me is that I do not remember having known, even from the allusions of friends or colleagues who are better versed in history, of a mathematician apart from myself who contributed such a multiplicity of innovative ideas, not more or less disjointed from one another, but as part of a vast unifying vision (as was the case for Newton and for Einstein in physics and cosmology, and for Darwin and for Pasteur in biology).19 Elsewhere, he writes: “It would seem that, as a servant of a vast unifying vision born in me, I am ‘one of a kind’ in the history of mathematics from its origin to the present day.”20 Although the writing style is not lacking in inspiration, it is nonetheless uneven and sometimes—deliberately—familiar. Grothendieck is not le duc de Saint-Simon. The following analysis will focus only on the content concerning mathematics and the world of mathematicians. In the text, Grothendieck complains at length that his ideas have been plundered by his former students without reference to their master or that they have simply been erased and forgotten. These assertions are not always supported by solid arguments or precise references. But, above all, it is the nature of discoveries to be trivialized and their author forgotten, and all the more so when the underlying ideas are often, in hindsight, obvious. Grothendieck’s reproaches are addressed to all his pupils, and particularly to Deligne—whose name is almost always preceded by the words “my friend,” insinuating “my former friend”—and to Verdier. It is quite possible to imagine that Deligne was only lightly involved with Grothendieck’s authorship of the motives or that the “Verdier duality” already mentioned could just as well be called the “Grothendieck duality.” But, otherwise, everyone knows that it was Grothendieck who invented schemes, motives, Grothendieck topologies, topoi, and, above all, that he imposed the functorial point of view via the six operations and the derived categories. Everyone knows that it is thanks to the machinery devised by Grothendieck that Deligne was able to prove André Weil’s last conjecture. In support of his claims about the total loss of ethics in the mathematical community from the 1970s onwards, Grothendieck’s entire argument is based on the unique testimony of one and only one mathematician who came to see him several times at his home in the countryside. It is common practice in ethnology to rely on an informant from the group being studied and who speaks the language. The problem is that the informant may not always be all that reliable and can, in fact, say anything. Here it is an even worse situation, since the informant declares himself to be the first person affected by the story he is going to tell, namely the Riemann–Hilbert (R–H) correspondence.

"... containing the names and the disposition made of more than 20,000 pictures, from ... May 15th, 1915, up to the end of the year 1917. This list will be supplemented by further lists presented at the end of each half yearly period."--Pennsylvania. State Board of Censors of Moving Pictures. Report, 1918, p. 7.