Title: "Mysterious Stranger": sick, bitter, and twisted
Product review: Twain's bitter edge kept getting sharper and sharper as he grew older, till finally only the bitterness was left. "The Mysterious Stranger" was his last work, and Twain is full-bore in his hatred of man, God, and everything in between. He was so intent on spilling his bile that he didn't even bother to come up with an ending, which is one of the most sophomoric I've ever seen; Heinlein would say it's equivalent to ending a book by writing "and the little boy fell out of bed and woke up." It's a shame that Twain's writing should be forever tarnished by this final piece of literary drudge, a book so bad only English majors and prison inmates are consigned to reading it. Read some of his earlier work instead (e.g., "Innocents Abroad").
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