A slow murky nerrative that builds to a anti-climax for the anti-hero. The atmosphere is like prague on qualudes. Raises questions on responsibilities and embracing social change. After reading Bohemial Hrable, Klima is like being coverd in crude oil.

Klima tells an interesting tale of a TV news cameraman, who must adjust to the Velvet revolution. I'm interested that his son says the author wasn't a great father, because the main character wishes he was a father. But he wishes many things.

This novel explores the events before and after the Velvet revolution in Czechoslovakia through the experiences of a photographer. Under Communist rule, he was forced to take artless phtotgraphs for news agencies but had always dreamed of being able to pursue his art and make great films. After the revolution, he may have his chance.

The novel works both as the story of a single man's life and in exploring more generally how Czech society after Communism did and did not live of to the dreams of freedom that its citizens had. There is a safety in unattainable dreams that is no longer there once they are realizable. (Think _The Iceman Cometh_.)

Judge on Trial caught my eye because it promised to deliver an interesting exposition of the political situation in Czechoslovakia prior to the 1968 revolution and how that impacts the choices the main character makes. I thought the book was alternately interesting and tedious. The underlying themes of moral dilemmas in the face of political repression were interesting but not explored in an as accessible manner as I had hoped. The domestic situation of the judge was very interesting, but ultimately unsatisfactorilly resolved. Ultimately I did not find the main character compelling as he seemed to distance himself from everything including responsibility for his own actions at times. The novel ended very darkly and while I would recommend this as an interesting book from the standpoint of learning more about East European politics, the story was not as compelling as I initially thought.

One of the features of Czech writing that is most evident in any genre -- from Havel's plays and letters, to Kundera's novels, and to Dubcinski's autobiography -- is the burden placed on the Czech character to weigh political expediency with moral imperatives. Nowhere is this more apparent than in Klima's masterful novel of a judge who, given the choice of trying a case in a kangaroo court or resigning in something more terrible than disgrace, decides instead to resist these choices by using the case as a way of filtering his past through the lense of his uncertainties about the facts of the case before him. Klima weaves the story of the case -- a man gases two people to death -- with that of the judge's own life of surviving childhood illness, World War II, and the moral opprobriums of post-1968 Czechoslovakia. What comes of this experience is a dual biography of the same person: on one hand a judge who has had to compromise his own sense of justice for the sake of his career, and on the other, a man whose every compromise seals his fate to tragic mediocrity. It is as if the lessons of his childhood have sentenced him to know only the memory of heroism. Distributed underground for years in Czechoslovakia by Klima's admirers, the novel was published after the opening of the east. Its sense that every decision (even the decision of what to remember and add to the judge's own self-incrimination) strengthens the idea that of the people of Eastern Europe, the Czech are among those who truly understand the weight and consequences of memory.

Ivan Klima has a way of telling about life behind the Iron Curtain that somehow doesn't make you pity the people there. His short stories let you explore the past and another culture through the eyes of ordinary people. Klima's style is easy to read and even poetic at times. I would definetly recommend Klima to a friend.

This book shows that even the life in the "goulash communism" had some poetics in it. If you want to learn about the lands that were behind the Iron Curtain and don't feel like going through some horrors or thorough scholarly work - choose Klima.

This book is in some ways exactly what it looks like, a survey, to borrow an occupation the narrator held, of life in a police state. However, what Klima does in these connected tales is deceptively difficult. He has written in a style which remains free of ponderousness, which starts with the narrator's attitude and is reflected in the sentences and word choices.

This could not have been easy, and one can think of how pregnant each line could have been. Instead, there is a deft comic touch which helps wring events for their melancholy and, at times, frightening juices. Each story poses a problem for the narrator. As the book proceeds we are invited to watch as he fumbles for some meaning to what happens, while at the same time we know he actively resists the notion that a definite reason can be found to explain why anything happens. We float as he floats, and digress in our own thoughts when he digresses. For this reader, the book became more grave than comic with the last tale, partly due to its content, partly to the picture Klima has built up effectively.

Indeed, the comedy is quietly presented as perhaps the only way to defend oneself against the daily assaults of life under such a regime, and not a completely reliable defense at that. Therein lies the melancholy of this work, which is a good introduction to Klima's art.

One word must be said about the proofreading of the Penguin softcover edition. Perhaps that company simply purchased the text from _Granta_ and decided not to bother with checking if words were repeated needlessly, if the past tense of a word should have been supplied instead of a present, and so on. Errors like that occur much too often (and in so short a book), and are a disservice to the author and the reader.

The sextet of stories presented in this volume are all variations on the theme of work; the "golden trades" of the title represent the employment choices made by the artists of Czechoslovakia in the last decade of communism. This is indeed "mature communism" in its death throes, its last gasp, for as the narrator approaches each of his trades - archeology assistant, courier, engine driver among them - we expect to find a man beaten-down by a society; instead, the artist is triumphantly liberated through the very simplicity of his work. Klima masterfully portrays a man (perhaps himself) at relative peace with his predicament, a man who regrets the course that his country has taken but who nonetheless is able to connect with his fellow man - indeed, with the world - through his everyday jobs. There is the engine driver who blissfully rushes along in his locamotive, flying past the flat-footed police; there is the courier who travels around Prague with nothing more than a leather satchel slung over his shoulder and, in perhaps the best story, there is the surveyor's assistant who achieves an enduring sense of freedom in the lines, angles and boundaries of the countryside. Ivan Klima presents tales of a man forced by the State to wear the clothes of a trade, but a man who retains his artist's soul.

The theme of countries that were brutalized by Germany in World War II only to then face new masters in the form of The Soviet Union has been written before. Ivan Klima adds a new terrible aspect to this history that portrays those that survived as persons suffering from an even more acute pain, if that is possible. The book is unrelenting in the revelations and histories of characters both alive and dead, and while there is some hope in the novel, it is fairly gray, a deep shade of gray.

The author increases the pain his characters must deal with by making them much more than simply survivors. He burdens them with family histories that contributed either to their family's pain, or the pain of their nation. Then there is the complication of the deceptions that one-generation feels is necessary to protect the youngest in the family's line. While well intended and expeditious, invariably it is the wrong decision to make, and the negative consequences it provokes are worse than the original truth. Deception also presupposes that those being mislead are ignorant of the truth, and will remain that way, bad presumption and bad consequences.

The author also presents the consequences of lost continuity. In a macro sense the subject is war, arguably the greatest disruptor of history, and on a micro level there are the relationships, or what pass for relationships, that are either fragments of what they should be, are based on false presumptions, or wrongly credited actions.

There is a wealth of human drama that takes place in this book as the author displays the results of decisions that may be taken by one generation, resented and hated by the next, and still continue to harm the generations that follow.

In Ivan Kilma's newest piece of fiction, he once again transports us to the magical and alienating world of Prague after the Velvet Revolution of 1989. The book is not his best (see Waiting for the Dark, Waiting for the Light, or Love and Garbage), however, it is a good introduction to the writing of this master author. His character development is profound, and his ability to narrate is forceful. The reason for four instead of five stars lies in the pessimism that dominates the book. It makes you think, but reminds you how horrible the fact that life often does not turn out as you expected.

The Penguin Guide to Compact Discs is a superb guide. There are many explanatory reviews. This edition is dated vs. the later Bargain CDs and 1999 versions. The Penguin Guides lack indexes to composers, works, conductors and performers. On the other hand and in contrast to Gramophone Guides, Penguin rates each CD reviewed. Gramophone has the indexes but then takes one CD or maybe two from each work and reviews it. But then other versions are listed, some with stars indicating higher

desirability. Penguin rates each version (CD) reviewed and provides reasoning for rating some better than others.

I really rate this 4 1/2*. With indexes, this would get 5* and a Rosette. The sensitive music lover will have a current copy of Penguin and Gramophone guides, along perhaps with one smaller book that lists a few recommended works for certain popular classical works.

I have three copies of Penguin guides. I often take one into Barnes and Noble to check while looking at CDs. I use both Penguin and Gramophone in reviewing CDs on auction or for sale.

One major problem is that Gramophone and Penguin tend to pick a different version of each work as best. So, which is? There isn't too much agreement. This is an advantage for the person who has the time or inclination to experiment. Another problem is some of the more current composers, especially in the 20th century are overlooked.

These problems are insignificant. If I see a new work, there

is the gut. Also, some CD houses will permit returning versions that aren't as expected.

This is a MUST. Look for the Bargain CD guide and also the latter version though. Gramophone is also a must, especially the 1999 edition.

Busloads of classical CDs have been issued - some

would say dumped - on the market in the last decade.

No one publication can assess them all, but

these writers, all contributors to Gramophone,

Britain's oldest magazine about classical recorded

music, have a better hope than most. They are

particularly good at pointing out interesting,

underpublicised reissues or bargain releases that

the conventional press have overlooked. They are

less good on releases from really small companies,

or those aimed at non-English speaking markets.

Their overview is careful and a bit too conservative:

if a performance is eccentric but inspired, they will

sooner dismiss it as eccentric than praise it as

exciting. But you will soon get used to their critical

stance, accommodate it and learn to read between

the lines. As a source of information about new

CDs this guide is easy to use and hard to better.

Richard Bernas,

I bought this book with some skepticism. After all, if it only takes 7 aseconds to market something, why does a whole industry exist to help the would-be entrepreneur spend a whole lot more? On reading the book the term 'catch-phrase' takes on a new (and profitable) meaning. Every telesales person knows that he/she has about 4 seconds at the start of a cold call to get the prospect's interest and the 'initial benefit statement' which helps can be difficult to create. 'Seven Second Marketing' shows the reader how to create not just a general IBS but one which will stick in the mind of the prospect after the call is concluded - and still be there when the Sale Process is continued at a later date. The essence of the memory hook, as Dr Misner describes it, is that it is short, relevant AND memorable. This book shows how to create one and I recommend it strongly to anyone who needs to be remembered by first-met acquaintances, business or social (or even political!) Since reading this book I purchased two other books by Dr Misner and both have contributed to my success as a self-employed businessman. See the Amazon Index for details of these books. Happy Marketing!

If you are running a Game Based on the Core timeline, this book will give you great adventures and a lot of material to make paralel adeventures arround it. Interesting powered Novas to clutter up your fight scenes and make great sub plots.

I would recommend this book primarily because it has even more pictures besides the Olmec heads, of other stone and terra cotta heads that are very African looking found in Latin America. These pictures alone will make you think that Van Sertima is on to something with this subject.

THIS IS A SHORT NOVEL BY ONE OF THE RUSSIA'S GREATEST AUTHORS. IT'S THE TALE OF A RUSSIAN PEASANT'S DREARY LIFE IN A SOVIET PRISON CAMP NEAR THE END OF WWII. SOLZHENITSYN'S DEPICTION OF THIS MISERABLE LIFE IS A VIEW INTO A COLD HELL. ITS LOW-KEYED NARRATIVE CONVEYS THE HOPELESSLY OVERWHELMING ODDS TO WHICH ONLY HUMAN WILL AND INTEGRITY CAN TRIUMPH.