I remember having these Fairy Tales read to me at bedtime when I was little. I bought the same book to read to my son. The stories are bit anachronistic and may not meet modern standards of being politically correct, but we love them anyway.

Standing always at the edge of society's consciousness is a group of artistic works that repel as they fascinate: the grotesque. Dismissed by the "respectable," and often condemned for their absurdity, incongruity, and perceived immorality, they nonetheless hold powerful sway in the popular imagination. Sordid pagan tales of incest and bloodletting, the medieval carnival, commedia dell'arte--these popular uprisings of the grotesque imagination reveal, through their marginalized position in the cultural scene, deep seated impulses that polite society has suppressed.

Yates surveys four major theoretical approaches to the grotesque-Wolfgang Kayser's grotesque as demonic "other," Mikhail Bahktin's edenic carnival, Geoffrey Harpham's notion of the grotesque as the process of becoming, and Ewa Kuryluk's feminist interpretation of the grotesque as an expression of subdued or oppressed "anti-worlds." Yates uses these theorists to identify major themes in grotesque art that speak to religious impulses: bafflement over the meaning of human existence; the dread of non-existence; man's ability to create; and our perception of the world as fallen.

Roger Hazelton's "The Grotesque, Theologically Considered" seems to express the central insight of this book: that the grotesque, like theology, forces us to reflect on mystery properly conceived. As Hazelton says:

Mystery is not a synonym for residual ignorance which will be dispelled when the sciences get around to it. Neither can it simply be equated with the unknown or unknowable. . . . Theology and grotesque art . . . find a certain affinity in a common persuasion that mystery remains a real and radical feature of our existing in the world-something not reducible to the aims and methods of technical expertise . . . thus compelling other kinds of human response and acknowledgment.

For Hazelton, the grotesque, in expressing the mystery of Being recalls to us theology's enunciation of "that abiding, confiding trust and loyalty called faith."

Also notable in this collection is Wolfgang Stechow's consideration of Hieronymus Bosch, whose Garden of Earthly Delights was placed by Spain's King Philip II at the altar of the Escorial. Bosch has long been a puzzle to art critics and the faithful alike. Praised by a Spanish monk at the time of its completion as a bold representation of man "as he is on the inside," the painting, with Dante's Inferno, ranks among the best commentaries of the grotesque nature of sin. The book also boasts an excellent examination of the gravedigger's scene from Hamlet and a previously unpublished play by Robert Penn Warren, Ballad of a Sweet Dream of Peace: A Charade for Easter.

The only disappointment in the collection is the essay that James Luther Adams wrote in the '70s before abandoning the project for a quarter century. "The Grotesque and Our Future" studiously avoids discussion of the deeper insights about man and religion the grotesque affords, instead confining himself to banal policy pronouncements. He quotes approvingly the call for a "revitalized United Nations" as the antidote to 20th century violence, a suggestion that gains a grotesque irony in the post-Sarajevo era. Surveying the cultural scene, he finds nothing more "typically and pathetically grotesque" than the spectacle of "the president's daughter tutoring two inner-city children at the White House." (One feels Dr. Adams has not looked hard enough.) Given the fact that we seem to be experiencing a uprising of the grotesque in popular music and movies--notice for example, Quentin Tarantino--this essay is a missed opportunity to discuss what the grotesque may say about our culture's future.

Still, in all, The Grotesque in Art and Literature is fascinating reading: well written, insightful, synthesizing various disciplinary approaches in an attempt to gain a view of the whole subject. Moreover, the subject of the grotesque may well become one of great interest to believers in the postmodern era. As American culture itself becomes more and more grotesque, there may be much insight to gain from art and literature that stands on the cultural edge and gazes back to the center.

I've heard much of the Grimoire series for guitar, and finally decided to give one of them a shot. This is the one I chose because I mainly wanted a source of reference for various progressions.

Unfortunately, a lot of the book (first 150+ pages) is dedicated to the basic triads and chords founded on them, and similar material. For my level, having studied music since age 5 and playing guitar for close to four years now, I was not interested in this. On the positive end of the first couple of sections of the book, the author does present some basic concepts pertaining to chord progressions, which are useful insofar as they demonstrate his method of presentation.

The author then pieces together basic forms of four chords (this is still with no alterations) and creates, in every key, various combinations of four-measure mini-progressions. He also explains several ways in which these can be pieced together to form songs, and uses this approach in his examples; however, for Mr. Kadmon (who is, self-admittedly, a completeness [person]) this isn't very exhaustive at all.

This book also presents multiple scale patterns that can be used for each chord. Throughout, there are mentions of issues of compatibility of chords and substitutions, and there are a few charts in the appendices that outline, rather completely, these possibilities. The author, however, opts to refer the reader to his other Grimoire publications, as a way of avoiding redundancy.

The latter portion of this book goes through a multitude of combinations of soloing patterns, including some really weird scales. This, once again, isn't very comprehensive.

The last section, which I found to be the most useful, are progression exercises. Although the author still refers the reader to the Grimoire Chords and Voicings book for all varieties of possible positions for each chords, the voice leading combinations presented here are excellent. In the words of the author, this section is practice for fingers, mind, and ear.

I would recommend this book for someone who is willing to expand his horizons, and has not had much exposure to music theory or the subject of the placement of notes on guitar. Also, it seems as though possession of the other three Grimoire books (Scales and Modes, Chords and Voicings, and Chord Encyclopedia) would be beneficial. Other than those mentioned above, and the author's poor use of English grammar (I'm not sure of his ethnic origin), the books is complete and accurate. Would definitely work for someone who's reached his limit in a stage of development.

The book starts with the basics: how to pluck the G-string to get a harmonic on the 12th fret. But very quickly, he's moving into scales, building melodies, and playing harmonics against jazz chords. The chord dictionary at the end is worth the cost by itself. Lots of material here for practicing, and definitely some intriguing concepts for you to apply in your own playing. Plenty of material here for casual players and serious students alike. Go through the first ten figures, then explore some harmonics in the music you're playing now. Then go back to the book and look at the rest of the figures and study the chord dictionary. It's probably illegal to expand your mind this much...

O.K., I confess. I was associated with the author at the time of completing this book. A talented travel writer, this was, I think, Wayne Stier's first departure into the world of fiction. As a result, one gets a good feeling of what it's like to travel to Hawaii, specifically "the Big Island", with it's rural atmosphere and cultural differences, along with a story based largely on the other's own personal experiences. From the perspective of an outsider looking in the book portrays the author's own feeling of awkwardness as a "haole" entering a world with many levels of cross-cultural history and identity. The humor in this juxtaposition is unavoidable.

There is enough actual history and information to give the visitor a good introduction to crossing into this world, which still applies today (over ten years after it's publication), and enough of a story to make it entertaining. A good one for the hammock. There is a spiritual level to the story imparted by the "locals" the author meets, the questions he must face that go deeper than the casual tourist perspective, even while it floats lightly on the waves.

A kama'aina (native) might find some faults with the "pidgin" English, which has been simplified for easier reading. I still continue to enjoy re-reading this respectful look into life on the island of Hawaii, portrayed in it's timelessness, dichotomies and surprises. One other problem - it's getting hard to find this self-published book. If you're lucky enough to find a copy it's O.K. to share - but keep one for yourself!

Helen Keller was a blind and deaf child who learned how to read, write, talk, and communicate with the world. Her teacher, Anne Sullivan, helped her become a huge success in life and it's shown by the wonderful examples Helen sets for everyone: anybody can overcome his or her obstacles. Helen even wrote a book about herself, and all the celebrities wanted to meet her. I thought that the book was so inspiring. It teaches people that anybody can accomplish anything, as long as they put hard work into it. I recommend this book for people who are insecure, or want to become a better person in life.

Although of course I had heard of Bloody Sunday, I did not understand exactly what happened, I was too young at the time.

This book contains some very touching accounts of those who were there and relatives of those who died. An excellent collection of photographs present a very sombering account.

I would definitely recommend this to anyone interested in the subject.

Leonie Adams wrote very little (two collections, neither very large), but the little is worthwhile. Consider "Thought's End":

I'd watched the hills drink the last colour of light,
All shapes grow bright and wane on the pale air,
Till down the traitorous east there came the night
And swept the circle of my seeing bare;
Its intimate beauty like a wanton's veil
Tore from the void as from an empty face.
I felt at being's rim all being fail,
And my one body pitted against space.
O heart more frightened than a wild bird's wings
Beating at green, now is no fiery mark
Left on the quiet nothingness of things.
Be self no more against the flooding dark;
There thousandwise, sown in that cloudy blot,
Stars that are worlds look out and see you not.

Consider the careful development of perception. The choice of words ("the quiet nothingness of things", "thousandwise") couldn't be bettered. Note too the masterly management of metre. It is not hard to see why Allen Tate, and Theodore Roethke, agreed with my assesment.

So I was getting ready to reread Don Quijote (1605)(Miguel de Cervantes 1547-1616) in the excellent Burton Raffel translation and as I was looking for information about the book and author, saw repeated references to Fielding's Joseph Andrews. I'd read his Tom Jones a couple of years ago and found it kind of tough sledding, but when I stumbled upon this one at a library book sale for a quarter, it seemed a stroke of destiny.

The parallels with Don Quijote are readily apparent. First of all, the book consists of a series of humorous travel adventures; second, the travellers involved seem too innocent to survive in the harsh world that confronts them. When Joseph Andrews, the naive footman of Lady Booby, deflects the amorous advances of both her Ladyship and Slipslop, the Lady's servant, he is sent packing. Upon his dismissal, Joseph, along with his friend and mentor Parson Adams, an idealistic and good-hearted rural clergyman, who essentially takes the physical role of Sancho Panza but the moral role of Quijote, sets out to find his beloved but chaste enamorata, Fanny Goodwill, who had earlier been dismissed from Lady Booby's service as a result of Slipslop's jealousy. In their travels they are set upon repeatedly by robbers, continually run out of funds and Adams gets in numerous arguments, theological and otherwise. Meanwhile, Fanny, whom they meet up with along the way, is nearly raped any number of times and is eventually discovered to be Joseph's sister, or maybe not.. The whole thing concludes with a farcical night of musical beds, mistaken identities and astonishing revelations.

I've seen this referred to as the first modern novel; I'm not sure why, in light of it's obvious debt to Cervantes. But it does combine those quixotic elements with a seemingly accurate portrayal of 18th Century English manners and the central concern with identity and status do place it squarely in the modern tradition.

At any rate, it is very funny and, for whatever reason, seemed a much easier read than Tom Jones. I recommend it unreservedly.

GRADE: B+

This book is a dignified piece of historical writing. Although it is long, it manages to be significant throughout. The personality profiles are interesting, the battle descriptions are gripping, and the political analysis is acute. Before reading this volume (and its companion), I did not realize how pivotal the events of this era were in shaping the rest of 19th century US. Recommended to those with time to ponder, especially if they are fond of Adams' writing style.