In Pawel Huelle's book of short stories, Moving House, the reader finds the Polish characters experiencing odd and often fantastic happenings in their lives in an often playful manner. However, when one examines Polish history in the 20th century, these strange incidents take on a new, often tragic, meaning.

Huelle comes from a country where borders have shifted, and the land and people have been occupied by both their 'aggressor' (Germany) and their 'saviour' (Russia). In this dizzying political climate, those who were your friends one day would be enemies the next. Collective identity is more important than individual; therefore, a German or Russian becomes threatening, due to the history of occupation. Nothing is stable, or dependable in this situation; and Huelle has created a fine book of stories which reflect a Polish viewpoint of imaginative, fantastic literature.

In the story "Table", a Polish family under Communism needs a new kitchen table. However, they cannot get a table like their old one, because that year, the Comrades building tables have decreed that tables must be triangular - which does not fit their room, or their settings. Seeking to find a woodworker who can (illegally) make them a proper table, they are at first successful, but run into problems, when the woodworker keeps delaying. He finally offers them a table - with the catch that it once belonged to a German officer. The main character's mother is furious, holding a deep-set hatred for the German people, and she wants no part of a table having belonged to one. This anger is not the only thing which comes with this furniture; the main character starts seeing a German ghost in the house. The story shows a family grappling with the very real effects of a Communist system and the memories of a Nazi occupation, all through a single piece of furniture.

A disappearing village is the mystery of "Uncle Heinrich," a story in which the main character and his Uncle go on a skiing trip and lose their way. Uncle Heinrich is an adventuresome man,given to encouraging his young nephew to forsake books and explore nature at its most rugged. On their excursion, they not only lose their way, but lose the map which has been guiding them. They come across a village where they find food and shelter until the storm is gone. The kindly villagers reveal some eccentric customs when Uncle Heinrich and nephew are called upon to act as outside judges to a town election, leaving them both with a threatened feeling. Years later, Uncle Heinrich writes his nephew, detailing his efforts to again find that village - but cannot, and cannot find any map with reference to the place. This story draws a correlation to the Baltic country of Lithuania, part of Poland before World War II, and made part of the USSR when borders were redrawn after the war. When one looks at the maps chronicling Poland's border shifts, one can see how entire areas seem to "disappear" into the USSR. The story underlines ethnic tensions between Lithuanians and Poles, as well as the uncertainty that comes with such an unstable boundary. Are those Poles who lived in Lithuania Polish or Lithuanian? Is this land the same as it was before the war? And after the fall of the USSR?

Probably the strongest piece is "In Dublin's Fair City," the final story in the book. It follows the main character as he visits Dublin, and remembers his grandfather who became an eccentric character in his old age. The narrator begins his visit in a Catholic Church, where his thoughts turn to his family, and how they survived under Communist regime. Throughout this piece, he thinks of his grandfather, who left his grandmother and lived far north in the country with another woman. But this isn't the whole story. When his grandfather dies, the narrator and his father must take the trip to retrieve the body, and find more than they expected; the grandfather was alone not to have an affair, but to build a submarine, with hopes of getting out of the country under the sea. The father and son push the submarine into the water, for if discovered, they know they will be punished as his family.

While these recollections surface, the narrator meets a young woman who accidentally hits him in her chips van, and takes him under her wing, to a party held by artists after.

The Irish in the story are all looking for a way out of their own lives, whether escaping their poverty through decadent parties, their loneliness through drink, or their very identities through play-acting. While he observes the surreal events unfolding around him, he reflects on his own grandfather's attempts to escape, and on his own - he is, after all, in a Western country.

Huelle makes a sound comparison between Ireland and Poland, for both were (and Northern Ireland contintues to be) colonized states well after most countries had become independent. The piece is richly layered, the mystery of the grandfather's activities being solved very gradually, so the reader shares in the narrator's triumph when he remembers it all, and makes the connection between his grandfather's secret and his bravery. And feels the sadness for a man who died before he could see his escape plans come true.

Moving House collects richly layered stories, intricate in their structure, complex in their theme, and beautifully written. This book is a must for those interested in Polish history and fiction, and those who take the time to read between the lines will be well rewarded.

I came across this book doing a search of Kathy Acker's books, figured I might buy it. I thought maybe it was a memoir. The title story is a short-short about a dream the author has of winning a date with Acker in a contest sponsored by Grove Press. There's another weird Barbie doll story, and a long and dark story called "Crack Hotel" that scared me, and made me quite sad. This was a very cool read.

Stadter's book is wonderful, especially in comparison to some of the other books available on brief therapy from psychodynamic perspectives (e.g., Strupp and Binder's "Psychotherapy in a New Key" or Levenson's more recent exposition on TLDP). This book has a good, clear synopsis of object relations theory, compares the approach to other dynamic brief treatments, and provides a very thorough guide for employing object relations theory in time-limited work. The reader is taken step-by-step through the initial, middle, and end phases of the work, and is also given suggestions for conducting very brief (one or two session) therapy. Finally, a discussion of using brief object relations therapy with clients presenting various types of character pathology is included. Overall, this is perhaps the best book available on conducting short-term therapy using a depth-oriented approach.

Professor Shelden's biography of Orwell is outstanding and well-researched. Prof. Shelden provides the important details of the molding of Eric Blair- boyhood, school, service in Burma for the Empire- and explains how each experience influenced young Blair yet he doesn't try to feed the reader psychobabble hogwash. Orwell's fitful rise as a writer is especially interesting. Prof. Shelden explains Orwell's various ideological wars and paints a portrait of a non-doctrinaire, humanist socialist who was a more astute critic of Stalinism or ideological socialism than anyone to his right. What I found refreshing about Prof. Shelden's account is that the reader finishes the bio without really knowing the writer's own politics. He allows Orwell to speak for himself.

I bought this book for one story only - the wonderful and witty "A Slice of Medieval Life" which packs a real punch in its 3 and a half pages. The other stories were neither here nor there really.

But I am pleased to report that they all have justified the purchase, and I have enjoyed them all. This is a great book for people who like their doses of historical fiction, without ploughing through the great heavy tomes in which it is usually presented.

The stories are well written and very clever, and all in all this book is well worth your attention.

I'm a HUGE fan of Baum.Always have been. Ever since I was a kid. Reading Baum in published order is an ever ongoing project with me. Now I'm not one who wants to take apart the wonderful stories and put all the elements into little boxes and find out what they are make of, but this book does something that is just the opposite. It takes the stories and looks at them in the order in which they were written! This book is a wonderful look at the "periods" in the Baum Canon. This is a great look at how say something like the Life and Adventures of Santa Clause and Queen XiXi of IX relate to each other. Great writing and research makes this book a MUST for any Baum collector.

This book is well worth the 22.00 advertised. I found this book to be very well written and extremly informative. I now know how to use the software to the very best of its ability. If Mr. Henry reads this, I want to thank him so much for the info. and to say that I can't wait for the next book in a long set I hope, to come out. Thanks A Lot.

I read this book based on an excellent review of it (a good primer for Mavis Gallant newbies, btw) in the April (or May?) Harper's (a great store room for hidden gems.) I had never heard of Ms. Galant before I read the review and her book, but after reading Paris Stories, all I gotta say is, Where the hell have I been since she's been writing for the past 30+ years? Actually I'm only 30, but still. Her writing is magical on so many levels that I'll only mention a couple of them: the consistency and the sublime richness of her prose - it's like really rich fudge, a phrase or two of one of the 15+ stories is often enough for one sitting; the hauntingly subtle rendering of European life; the authority and command of her voice - there is no doubt in my mind that Mavis Gallant was put on this earth to write fiction as her job, and she writes like she knows it. I love that.

2 recommendations: read Michael Ondaajte's intro (in it he mentions that he knows other writers who intentionally refrain from reading Mavis Gallant when they are writing themselves, so they don't lose confidence in themselves); read the afterward, written by the auther herself (in it she makes the wise suggestion to the reader NOT read the stories in the book back to back, but to take one's time and savor every morsal - I concur. Read this book very slowly pausing to read other stuff perhaps - you don't want to miss a word, it's that good.)

Lovers of sublime artwork in literature, read Mavis Gallant. I guarantee you will not be disappointed. I can't wait for Volume 2 to come out this fall!

This is a book about what audio recording has done to our minds, our culture, our economy, and most of all to our relationship with music. Along the way, Chanan gives an excellent short history of "phonography --" the art of recording sound, from 1902 when Caruso's voice was found to perfectly suited to drowning out surface noise, up to the '90s, when Chuck D of Public Enemy explains that the sound of New York City rap is "more of a headphone thing" because people in the Big Apple don't drive much. Songs from places where you need wheels, like Philadelphia or L.A. are made to be heard on car stereos instead.

The advent of the Edison cylinder, and later the 78 rpm disc, forever changed the fundamental relationship of musician, music, and listener. Prior to recordings, music was etherial, gone forever when the performance was over, and known only to those who were there. When music became a commodity, the performance was separated from a time and place. Moreover, it provided a way to "notate" musical forms (like the blues) that had been transmitted only in person.

Early on, it became apparent that there was big money to be made if one had a hit record -- Caruso personally made over $2 million between 1902 and 1921, when he died -- and corporations were quick to start what we now know as the Record Business. Chanan describes the confluence of technology, copyright law, and popular culture that has made the music scene what it is today: a massive multinational machine, that requires a steady stream of fresh, disposable product.

We are musically different creatures then our ancestors of a century ago. A hundred years ago, no one could have imagined music being used as aural furniture, as it is in an elevator, airport, or dentist's office. Not a single one of our great-great-grandparents ever had the experience of intimately *knowing* a performance as we do -- of having the first note of an overheard Motown song germinate inside your head with 20 years worth of memo! ries, and "hearing" every nuance of horn, snare, and reverb before they occur.

This isn't a book that one blows through in a hurry. I had to keep stopping to reread sentences and let them sink in, and adjust to some new perspective on a topic I thought I knew all about. My modest recording studio seems different now; somehow more powerful and more miraculous. I don't know if I'm a better phonographer for having read _Repeated Takes_, but I do know a lot more about the implications of pressing "Record."