This book deserves more than five stars.

Before going further, let me mention that Brassai's images contain many sinners and show the seamier side of Paris. For example, there are many photographs of prostitutes here. If such subjects upset you, do avoid this volume.

The collection of Brassai's work at the Musee National d'Art Moderne at the Pompidou Centre in Paris was recently expanded from 300 to 500 items due to a large deposit by Mme. Gilberte Brassai, his widow. This monograph greatly benefits from these additions. The monograph also commemorates the 100th anniversary of his birth in 1899.

Best known for his photography, Brassai had many other dimensions: collector, scholar, sketcher, sculptor, and writer. His self description was as "a creator of images." This book does an excellent job of capturing all of these elements so we can better understand the entire man and his work.

As Brassai said, "The meaning of art is not authenticity . . . but the expression of authenticity." Why does he say that? Well, his method of photography required careful staging because of the bulkiness of his equipment and its slow speed. So, although an image may seem like something taken by a news photographer from the Daily Blurb, Brassai's techniques required that subjects hold their poses for long periods of time. Much like Cindy Sherman does today using herself as the model, those in the photographs were often friends of Brassai's who were posing as someone else. So what is remarkable about these "candid" photos is his "use of re-creation and reconstruction" to produce them.

Taking the photograph was really just the beginning. Using darkness as his ally, it is the print that makes the difference to his representations. "A negative means nothing for my kind of photographer." "It's the artist's proof that counts."

Here are my favorite photographic images in the book:

Notre-Dame, c. 1930-32

The Pont Neuf, c. 1932

The Viaduc d'Auteiul, 1932

The Baker, c. 1930-32

Public Urinals, c. 1932

For a Detective Story, 1931-32

The Big Night at Longchamp, July 1937

False Sky, 1934-35

Nudes of 1934

Matches, c. 1930

Picasso, His Studio and Works, 1932-46

Montmartre, c. 1935-37

Metro Pillar, 1934 (you will see a man's face in the shadow of the pillar)

Odalisque Transmutation, 1934/1967 (this is clearly influenced by Picasso)

The essays in the book are excellent. I especially liked Alain Sayag's comparison of his work to Chinese painting.

I also learned a lot about his life. Like many famous photographers he had to earn a living by doing more commercial work. These images often were done on his own time, late at night. Interestingly, many great photographic images were created in only 1-3 takes. In part, this reflected his poverty.

Actually, he had earlier earned a living from writing about France for German newspapers. The Depression began to cut off that source of funds, and photography was taken up in part to supplement his income. By selling the story and the images, he could get paid a little more. He also worked for Harper's Bazaar taking photographs by day for many years.

The text also contains many selections from what Henry Miller and he had to say about each other and their long-term friendship. This emphasizes "seeing only what is."

My appreciation of the photography was improved by seeing his drawings and sculptures. Clearly influenced by prehistoric and primitive art, many of these images look like fertility gods. His women are all bottom. From these, I could understand his graffiti photographs of images that could literally have come from the caves at Lescaux. So in looking for the "reality" Brassai was reaching deeper into our ancient psyches than other photographers before and since.

I came away very much more interested in Brassai, as I am sure you will be.

After you finish consider Brassai, I suggest you ask yourself how you could add more dimensions of expression to your personal life. What can you share that is both "real" and important for others? How can you best accomplish that?

Au revoir.

It was only several years ago that I had noticed the brilliant work of Brassai. The Chicago Institute of Art was having a special exhibit featuring his work. I stood before each photograph for what seemed like an eternity. The way that he captures the essence of the human life, the laughter along with the tears, brings a flood of emotions to any observer. My interest in Brassai only grew from this exhibit. I then started to hunt out books on him, his life, his work but I wound up a little disappointed due to most of his work is out-of-print. When I had been scanning Amazon.com and found a new book, Brassai, I was highly interested. I awaited the day that it would finally be published. That day came. As I turned the pages of the book, I felt as if I am back in the Art Institute. The quality of the photographs, the meaning of the words, by close friends, and from Brassai himself add to the pleasure and overall joy of the book. He depicts a time in history that is meant and needed to be cherished. Brassai reaches into the human heart and soul and brings out strength, determiniation, and a smile. These feelings are only emphasized on the pages of this magnificant book. I only hope that more will follow so that Brassai can touch more lives, touch more hearts, and bring emotions to the forefront of everyone's lives.

When Abrams released their long-delayed book on Brassai last December, THE EYE OF PARIS, I was very critical of the entire piece. The images weren't well-printed, the selection was mundane, and the whole thing had an oddly slapped together quality, especially for such a major publisher. Now we have Bullfinch's answer to the recent Brassai gap, and it is a clear success, head and shoulders above this earlier release. After only a relatively cursory look at the book, it is clear that this is what we've been waiting for. The selction of images is deep and varied, mixing both the iconic with the lesser known, the printing is lustrous and dimensional, and the layout is both attractive and compelling. The production may not match the incredible PARIS BY NIGHT reissue of the late 80's, but nothing probably ever will. That said, this book looks very good indeed. I haven't read the impressively credited text yet, but the visuals are certainly terrific, the most important thing, obviously, in a photography book. It is hard to imagine a superior monograph on this seminal figure forthcoming anytime soon. Grab it and feast.

Another November seems like it might be short and simple. But its unembellished prose carefully and powerfully conjures up images and memories of a troubled history. It is a serious story narrated by a man looking back on his childhood and young adulthood in a small town in southwestern France, and reflecting on the indelible mark left by the German Occupation on young lives. The author masterfully captures the complexity of political reality intersecting with childhood friendships and relationships -- political reality that includes class differences at first and extends to the clash between collaborators and the resistance, signaling the end of childhood. Though the narrator's style, on one level, seemed to keep me at a distance from the characters, seemingly uninvested in their personal struggles, ultimately I was left haunted by them and their choices and by the unsettling combination of normal everyday-ness and profound evil of the Occupation. Grenier makes us feel the way the war would change things forever; yet, he reminds us how some things remained business-as-usual. Eschewing detailed descriptions, he makes us feel the characters' pain and sense the reality of the war. The book is so effective and rewarding, I think, because of the sparse tone and careful turns-of-phrase that stayed with me even after I finished reading, and because of the subtlety of its cues as to what it meant to resist and what it meant to collaborate. It refuses to speak of the war in grandiose, familiar ways; instead, it focuses delicately on its effect on people who were neither its overt victims nor its villains. It makes the reader ponder the ambiguity between how the war changed the life of this small town forever and how life seemd to go on as before. It is a rich memoir of childhood and of war, where much of what was so disturbing about the period remains below the surface for the reader to uncover.

The book is too disjointed and much of it reads like poetry this isn't what I expected.

Although i'm very familiar with the dog's of English literature, i've never before seen a overview of French dog literature. Make no mistake, dogs are as much a subject for French philosophy in this book as for their own intrinsic nature. (This fellow really likes our Faulkner's insight into dog's too, btw.)

Because Grenier is intereseted in dogs as a metaphor in human history, he visits some some really horrific historical animal abuse scenes. Not for the faint of heart are contemparary descriptions of the Dog Island of Tukey or his insight into the dog buried in sand painting by Goya. As this book points out, we've tried most horrors out on animals before we have visited them on humans. Also.... Grenier has the unfortunate, male, knee jerk reaction to what he considers feminine interpretations of dog mental states. Anyone who would say Collete does not have true insight into dogs is saying more about his own attitude toward the female than he says about that eccentric writer. And... his worst insult is, "a society matron's interpretation". Whatever. Would recomend this book to all. I stayed up way too late last night!;)

This delightful book is a treasure if you care about the two worlds of animals and literature. Pault Grenier has perfectly paid tribute to his deep love of dogs by presenting it wrapped in a wealth of literary wit and sharp writing.

If you can get through this book without a continual smile and a deeper emotional bond with your own dog, then you're a hard case indeed.

Partita

"Partita" is the title of the French original. It is the life story of Michel Mailhoc who, at age five, became the student of the well-known pianist Nicolau Anderiu. The boy has great talent and grows up to be a very good pianist indeed. But life?s cards are stacked against him. His teacher leaves him, and Michel flounders. From important concerts he sinks to playing in a piano bar and finally gives up playing altogether. He now tries to compose, but cannot get it together. The many women in his life leave him because there is nothing to him beyond the piano.

In his middle age, he becomes the tutor to his grand-niece Emma, also age five. She is a true genius and, as she grows up, easily outgrows him and leaves on her own career. He is now left behind, alone with his dog, in his old house.

It is a somewhat sad and melancholy story, rather typical for a French writer and perhaps too slow and morose for our tastes.