A common problem with American students of Oriental herbal medicine is that they often are unaware that the substances they use are the same as western herbs they may understand- for instancea common form of Wu jia pi (Acanthopanacis) is Siberian ginseng or that modern Mang xiao (Mirabilitum) is Epsom salts. This book allows one to do that.

Up to date research on the herbs is presented in clear English, combining new knowledge with traditional uses. Extensive references are in an appendix. I spent several hours cross referencing this book with Bensky's Materia Medica and added as much from one book as to the other. The Kampo book tends not to include animal products used in Chinese medicine, as well as herbs used primarily in external application or against parasites, which accounts for its smaller database. But it includes the most important herbs used in Chinese and Japanese medicine.

The book is not organized by Chinese medicinal categories, although functions and indications are described in the text. It does not have a list of tastes, temperatures and channels, but parts of the body affected and organoleptic qualities are included in the text. One annoyance is the lack of a separate multilingual medicinal substance index, but the general index includes herbs by Japanese and English names. Occasionally I had to look up an herb in Bensky, check its Japanese name and refer to the index.

One major criticism is that I was not always certain that the research referred to the botanical species used most prevalently in Japanese (and Chinese) medicine (although I admit that I haven't yet spent time digging through the references). And one listing might be given for several parts of a species- like Lotus root, leaf, seed-receptacle, stamen, seed and sprout with the text addressing the various strengths in sketchy detail. Like most other Oriental materia medicas it lacks information on endangered species, cruelty (though few animal products are included) or modern substitutes like Serrulata sheng ma/black cohosh or Typhonium ban xia/pinellia.

There are sections on formulas, diseases organized by western name with differential diagnosis within the disease discussions, sources of Kampo goods and services and 65 pages of references.

An excellent adjunct materia medica for students of Oriental Medicine.

The only slight drawback with this book is the unintelligiable essay. Translated from German, the essay is hard to follow and uses tortured English peppered with artspeak.

On the upside, this is probably the definitive Kippenberger book.

Roberta Smith, writing in the New York Times, offered the opinion that Kippenberger was "one of the three or four best German artists of the postwar period."

This colorful book is the best introduction to Kippenberger that I've seen, although the introductory essay isn't terribly illuminating (it seems to have been poorly translated).

This edition reprints and substantially expands the earlier (1991) Taschen book on Kippenberger. It is unusually inexpensive for an art book of this quality; the book seems to be the publisher's personal tribute to Kippenberger, who died at age 44 in 1997.

The figure of Kokopelli is found chipped into desert stone at various ancient sites throughout the American Southwest. It also appears in contemporary forms, painted on canvas, etched into glassware, printed on Christmas cards, and sculpted into candelabra, in presentations that range from the holy to the kitschy. What energizes the frequent appearances of the enigmatic hunchbacked flute player? The authors suggest that the centuries-old drawing power of this archetypal figure may lie in both its protean nature and its spiritual origins.

Hill acquaints the reader with images of Kokopelli as hunter, warrior, healer, gambler, fertility bringer, and even mythological insect who appears in some Native American accounts of the Creation, by presenting a broad review of the available literature on the topic. Wisely, he presents Kokopelli's multiple manifestations without seeking to narrow them to a definitive representation that would deny the complexity of the image. His smart narrative contains a mine of information that yields a pocketful of nice nuggets with each perusal; and his readable style turns them up without a lot of digging.

In stunning visual images that complement the text, Montoya presents Kokopelli as an avatar figure who both generously offers and thankfully celebrates the receipt of the gifts of a bountiful earth. To Hill's scholarly analysis, Montoya adds the cultural insights of one steeped in the kind of ceremonialism from which Kokopelli likely first emerged, and the imagination of a skilled contemporary artist. Their collaboration is a complimentary one in which the text illuminates the paintings, and the visual images add an intuitive content that transcends the text.

Hill is frank about his intention to produce a hybrid text that is concurrently an art book, a study of Native American spiritual beliefs, and a review of Kokopelli literature. The challenge in such an undertaking is to do it seamlessly. How that challenge was met produced my only caveat, and a small one considering the ambitious nature of the project. The book's divisions make it seem a bit episodic, particularly the insertion of a short chapter by art critic James Bialac that might better have been placed in an appendix. At the same time, the holistic approach to the book's subject matter is an essential part of what makes it original and interesting. Hill and Montoya have added an important spiritual component to an art/cultural study without becoming simplistic or sappy, a laudable achievement.

Kokopelli Ceremonies provides some satisfying depth in an area in which much of the available material only skims the surface. Although the book is brief, it contains a well-selected bibliography for those readers who wish to further pursue the elusive Kokopelli through the avenue of cultural studies. For the text-challenged and those who prefer to see beyond black and white, sixteen gorgeous color plates provide a visual feast. Leave Kokopelli Ceremonies out where you can reach for it often--you'll probably make frequent journeys following the elusive notes of the ancient pied piper.

On a purely visual level, the ex-painter Bresson's films can seem unusually flat, but if you connect this deliberate flatness to Bresson's use of sound and light, and the careful way he builds scenes through precise composition and 'punchy' editing, a unique three-dimensionality is achieved. If you know how to look, Bresson's pessimistic films glow with life; if you don't, they seem mean and drab. Jones' book does what literature on film should do and rarely does - it opens your eyes. I rewatched 'L'Argent' soon after reading this study and the experience was revelatory. What I had previously watched with dutiful admiration suddenly became vibrant and urgent.

Jones' book is a very old-fashioned piece of film-criticism, with no recourse to psychoanalysis or feminism, no attempt to discuss the film's production process or its cultural context, or to apply biographical information (probably because, in Bresson's case, there is so little known). For Jones, 'L'Argent' is a Great Film by a Great Auteur, and analysed accordingly, as if it were a book, each detail dissected and related to the whole. This procedure is so refreshing because in most theory-based criticism, the actual films tend to get lost (never mind any love for the medium), as minor details are absurdly inflated into whole theses.

Jones begins with an overview of the critical reception of Bresson's work (either over-reverent or baffled), the ways in which Difficult Ideas have obscured the essence of Bresson's cinema. He then discusses the film's source, Tolstoy's relentlessly didactic novella 'The Forged Coupon', locating the radical differences between the two works, in narrative detail, thematic emphasis and aesthetic process, thus revealing the deeper meanings of 'L'Argent'. The bulk of the study comprises a meticulous, scene-by-scene, shot-by-shot analysis of the film, the story of a young worker who, paid off with counterfeit notes, is dragged into an inexorable narrative of robbery, jail, marital breakdown, suicide and serial murder. This procedure could have been plodding, but Jones alerts us to every camera angle, every cut, and, especially, every sound, making this film in particular, and, potentially, films in general, live and resonate. He shows how Bresson gives each scene its own heightened integrity, free from the mechanical, explanatory chaff that blights most movies, resulting in high-pitched narrative of uncommon intensity. Only when we have properly absorbed what's on the screen, can we begin talking about what isn't, abstract themes, morality, religion etc. Jones' high-minded, high-art tone should grate, but seems refreshing in post-modern times that promised egalitarian energy and gave us nothing but conformist sludge.