After shortly leaving the unbeaten track with his previous dazzling Schumann recording, Hamelin is back in repertoire that most of his colleagues shun in order to add recordings nrs 499 or 625 of the dinosaurs of the piano repertoire to the catalogue. Back at Alkan Marc-Andre just emphasizes how frightfully narrow-minded the "stars" are when it comes to lesser known, but certainly not lesser quality works, and how understandable the disenchantment is of many in the younger generations with "classical music". Enough complaints, however.

After restoring Alkan's place among piano composers of the stature of Liszt, Schumann and Chopin, Hamelin further unveils the depths of the oeuvre of this forgotten French genius. As in his previous Alkan recordings, Hamelin illustrates how individual and innovative Alkan's choices were when it came to exploring the limitless possibilities that the rapid evolution of the pianoforte allowed in the first half of the 19th century. Hamelin's previous Alkan recordings have received critical acclaim in no small part to the extent to which this composer allowed this unparalleled pianist to display his powers. In this recording there is again plenty of the physics of pyrotechnics, but also a deeper exploration of Alkan's metaphysics. Whereas many piano composers have a small set of distinct signature pieces in a marshland of insignificance -e.g. Ljadov, Grieg, Sorabdji-, the more you get to know of Alkan, the better you like him. While I have not yet encountered a piece of his like Les Annees de Pelerinage or Nuages Gris, that would put him on quite the same level as Liszt, the sampling of Alkan's oeuvre I have enjoyed so far is also devoid of some of the former's all too common tackiness.

Hamelin's performances are again up to the incredible standards that he set in his earlier recordings. While he can play more notes per second than any of his colleagues in history, this recording shines equally when there are very few.

Two comments to Hamelin's critics.

A great amount of the strength of Marc-Andre's (Alkan) recordings derives from his conscious choice to never take his interpretations over the top. At many instances composers like Alkan provide the interpreter ample opportunity to go overboard in the "Lawrence Olivier Hamlet" fashion. I am convinced that the latter's approach is completely at odds with the intentions of the British Bard. Likewise, I think that people like John-Elliot Gardiner have given clear credence to the notion that many romantic works are far less schmaltzy than the projections through the interpretations of the late romantics of the early and middle of the 20th century would want to make you believe. As such I think that Hamelin's restraint is entirely appropriate.

A second remark about Hamelin's technical perfection. Quite a few have commented that this pianist's level of perfection never inspires them, since everything is just too damned perfect. Please, give me a break! Many contemporary composers have remarked that many of Haydn's works are more interesting to them than similar ones by Mozart. They often state that by Mozart not only giving the question but also providing the perfect answer, Haydn's ever so slight human imperfection is more satisfying. Just a clear case of Wolfgang envy. There will never be accounting for tastes, but true quality always tends to survive the tooth of time, even when it takes the resurrection that Alkan, and even Bach required. Moreover, by the sheer quality of his pianism Hamelin has not only raised the bar for his colleagues, but has also given an incentive to composers to further explore the piano's possibilities.

In all, this cd is another must have for everyone seriously interested in the depths of the piano repertoire and it just has you begging for more.

The order of things is the second book that I read by this late iconoclastic writer. I greatly enjoyed his stimulating and thought provoking "Discipline and Punish" (DP), yet after a struggle that I can only compare to my adolescent reading of the Brothers Karamazov, I ended this book with an overwhelming feeling of its futility.

This book started its life under the French title "les mots e les choses", things and words. In the introduction Foucault tries to provide the reader with both an explanation and a road map for this archaeological expedition. He explains that this book should be seen as an attempt towards describing the evolution of representation of the world in thoughts/words over the last 5 centuries. Not a small task, and not an easy one for that matter.

It is unfortunate that Foucault did not follow the approach that he chose in DP. In that book he chose one central leitmotiv, the spread of discipline from the military throughout an increasingly complex society, and could leave the "main road" at many instances without the risk of the reader getting lost. This book dearly misses such a backbone. Even worse: whenever Foucault seems to suggest one, he willfully/deviously/confusingly immediately takes an unannounced turn. For example in the introduction he goes in detail about the representation of the world in a language of words. O.K. you think, that sets us on a track of a history of the world with Kant at a critical juncture. Yet in the first chapter we suddenly get a cold shower of a completely chaotic and overwrought description of a Velasquez painting, that has been done much better using less than 10% of the number of words, and is at complete odds with the goals set in the introduction.

Next Foucault visits Cervantes' masterpiece. He describes Don Q. as representing man before arrival of the stage of distinction between things and their representations. Cute of course, but wasn't Cervantes fictitious book meant as a comedy. On top of that, one cannot help but consider Cervantes own representation of the first part of DQ in the second a much clearer exploration of the subject of representation than Foucault's.

However, inspired by Don Q., Mickey F. chooses his own collection of windmills and goes on a quest that has way more in common with a self-gratulatory/-exploratory/-gratifying acid trip, than the archaeological quest that he promised. Purposely mentioning Kant as the gatekeeper between to eras, but wasting disproportionate amounts of words on some often obscure lesser gods, Foucault could not have done a better job in helping a well-intentioned reader to get lost in this onanistic swamp.

As such, finishing this book became an increasingly aggravating and futile struggle. In despite of all his cunning and virtuosity, it is just a clear impression of blind vanity that remains. Too bad, Michel. A brain -certainly such a good one, as you had- is a terrible thing to waste.

Nice upper register, lazy horrible singer. Don't waste your money on this charlatan.

Kerr's Berlin Noir Trilogy combines the history of three stages of the "Third Reich'" with the format of a hardboiled mystery novel. Kerr's protagonist Bernie Gunther is the main character of each of the three stories. He's tough, sharp-shooting, wise-cracking, and has a pre-Beauvoir/Greer vision of the female gender.

The three stories share a well-researched background, an awful lot of metaphors, but otherwise very clear and skilful prose. The "mystery level", however, greatly varies between the three. I would rate "March Violets" as so, so, when it comes to plot level. The second book, the "Pale Criminal", is much better in this respect, whereas "A German Requiem" ranks at the same level as the best works of Le Carre.

All three novels are very successful in immersing the reader in the darkness that was the "Third Reich". While I can not blame previous reviewers for mentioning Gunther's reverse engineered political correctness, it goes without saying that many a German was not too enamoured with Hitler, even in his heydays.

While the period surrounding the second worldwar has been the subject of deeper works of literature -take Grass's Danziger Trilogie, for example- Kerr's approach gives an accurate impression of life in Germany surrounding worldwar 2, combined with some excellent mystery writing.

With a pianist of Marc-Andre Hamelin's abilities it is hard not to succumb to an avalanche of cliches and platitudes. Let's just start by saying that I have not heard any pianist that even comes close to the technical abilities that he continues to display on the 88. On top of that he has a wonderfully restrained musicality, and equal sense of color and rhythm. On top of all of that, he devotes a lot of his time to lesser known works that deserve much wider acclaim.

This disc contains recordings made at a series of three concerts that Hamelin gave in the summer of 1994 at London's Wigmore Hall. Just like Hamelin's Liszt recital recorded live at the same venue, the quality of the recording surpasses Hyperion's non-live efforts.

Apart from the Medtner piece, which is certainly not too simple either, all works are of often frightening difficulty. Yet, on this whole disc there is not a wrong note, a slight slip of a finger, or any impediment to perfection. Hamelin must be the second pianist after Arthuro Benedetti Michelangeli, who simply never ever makes a mistake.

The disc starts with two transcription s of movements from piano concertos to solo piano. I think, the Balakirev is the more successful one. Using his wide palette of colors Hamelin brings the listener pretty close to the esthetics of the original. The Alkan transcription of Beethoven 3 is slightly less successful. This is in part due to the more dialectical approach that Beethoven chose in his composition, and to the fact that the piao/tutti contrast simply don't allow the pianist to do much in the way of timbre. However, Alkan makes the day with a dazzling cadenza, that probably surpasses the more elaborate cadenza from Rach 3 in difficulty.

Next comes Alkan , what more is there to say. Schnabel: Beethoven; Gould: Bach; Hamelin: Alkan.

Then there is Busoni. Hamelin has a great feeling for this composer. Even when things become dark and heavy, like in his Bach Phantasy, Hamelin keeps things clear and musical, when they get heavy-handed and murky in other's hands. Busoni's Carmen Phantasy is "musical light/technical fright" and definitely to be preferred over Horowitz's impossible version. (By the way people that have seen Horowitz's transcribed score say it is not that impossible). Hamelin seems to be eating pieces like this for breakfast and keeps things light and even frivolous. It is true that the absence of a performer suffering over the notes takes away a dimension from the end result, but blame the others, not Hamelin. The disc ends with Medtner's Danza Festiva. I already knew Hamelin's version included in the box with the complete Medtner Sonatas, but I prefer this version. Marc-Andre was clearly on a roll, and all those that question his fire better give this piece a listen.

What does Hamelin leave to be desired. Nothing. Although, looking at the programs of the three original concerts I was wondering if and when we can expect the other three cd's that could be devoted to the rest of the equally interesting repertoire.

I have owned this recording since 1988 and still consider it among the very best classical recordings ever made. I may be alone in saying so, but I prefer it over Solti's "Ring" that the Gramophone chose as recording of the century. There are only a handful of opera recordings where the approach of conductor and singers shows such unity, and where the vocalists chose "contributing" over "starring" to such an extent.

Alban Berg did an incredible job putting the story of Wozzeck, the archetypal innocent loser, to music. Seldom has an opera composer been able to convey heart-wrenching emotions so directly in his music, at no moment falling to the regurgitated cliches so popular in the Italian tradition. Yet, the atmosphere of the opera remains more "latin" than "teutononic". In addition, this works clearly illustrates the virtues of an atonal approach in communicating emotions in a very direct way.

This recording stems from a time that Abbado recorded a little too much for his own good. Recording the Beethoven, Brahms, Schubert, Mendelsohn Symphonies and many other works in just a matter of years often resulted in recordings of Barenboimian mediocrity. The opposite applies here, there is an intensity/electricity that is simply mesmerizing. The recording is of a live performance and stage and audience noises abound. Don't let those and other distractions keep you from buying this set. If you only own one Berg recording, choose this one.

There have not been many books that made me laugh out loud so many times during reading as 'a Confederacy of Dunces'. It ranks among the best examples of literary slap stick that I have encountered, and I can hardly imagine anybody not appreciating this tragi-comedy. Toole had a unique gift for intellectualized absurdity and absurdized intellectuality. In addition, he possessed a great sense of style and dialect. Especially the rendition of the accent of the cold-struck New Orleans patrolman Mancuso is a real tour de force.

Despite the enormous entertainment I got out of reading this book, I consider 4 stars the most appropriate rating. While the combination of ingredients of the novel is unique, more than obvious resonances from both Rabelais and especially Cervantes echo through this book. While it is unfair to compare the young Toole to two of mankinds greatest comedy writers, it is hard to close ones mind to the parallels between Reilly's Boetius fixation and Don Quichote's dependence on chivalry romances for his worldview. As a consequence I can not help to compare Toole's effort, and the final destination of his novel, to the one that Cervantes accomplished many centuries earlier. Such a comparison can not but highlight the highly skilled superficiality on which 'a Confederacy of Dunces' was built. I hope that cult followers of this book will not be offended too much by this review, because I am certain that Toole could have developed in one of the greatest comedy writers of all time.

Since a number of the previous reviewers gave excellent reviews, I would just like to highlight a few points. Hodges has done an impressive job in giving a detailed description of the lives of Alan Turing the man and Alan Turing the scientist. Wherever, there is evidence for these two worlds intersecting, Hodges has given clear descriptions of the cross-talk. In addition, he at no moment suffers from the common addiction among biographers to stress the facts out of proportion to make them fit a preconceived opinion of the subject. Hodges has expert knowledge on the subject of Turing's work at all the stages of his career, and does a great job in following the development of Turing's main interests. When it comes to Turing the man, Hodges paints a precise, sympathetic but certainly not sugar-coated portrait. Especially, when it comes to the discussion of Turing's homosexuality and suicide Hodges is exemplary in his non-sensationalistic restraint and objectivity. Together all these attributes result in a very well-rounded and informative biography. For all those interested in the ideas on which the concept of the computer was founded and on Turing's role in the enigma project this book is required reading.

Reading all the previous opinions I can sympathize with the negative ones, while agreeing with the most positive reviews. I greatly enjoyed reading "the Magus" and consider it a very good work of fiction. A good indication of the skill of the author is that Fowles is so effective in creating a work that puts (a category of) readers in the same position as the novel's main character, that they come away with a conclusion that is very similar to Nicholas'.

I can understand the people that wrote that they considered the conclusion/pay-off at the end to be shallow for the effort of reading through this book. Many of these negative reviewers also cite the foreword by Fowles discussing the books shortcomings. The author's self-criticism, however, is less harsh than cited. Moreover, this book was a product of the young Fowles, and as such the 20/20 hindsight is interesting, but of limited relevance when it comes to the skill and intentions of a younger self.

This book can be described as a trip through a labyrinth, with the conclusion that the destination is not so much the way out, but the improved self-awareness of the main character/reader. The book is extremely well written and contains some very powerful scenes. The plot has some imperfections, that have led to a lot of criticism. Yet, I feel that Fowles does differ from Conchis by giving the reader some very clear pointers. The quotes from Auden, and de Sade are some among many- the clearest one about the wave and the water- that point the reader in the right direction at critical junctions in the plot. While I do understand the type of anti-Gaddis response, blaming Fowles inclusion of obscure references, that require an extra effort for the less than classical trained, they are instrumental in giving the reader the feeling of being in Nicholas's shoes.

While incorporating elements of Greek tragedy, post-Nietzschian philosophy and Jungian psychology the Magus is a truly modern novel. Although, this work is a protagonist for works like Eco's "name of the rose" and Mamet's "spanish prisoner", it roots itself back to Aristoteles' final cause. A long history since has thought mankind to either believe, or just to stop wondering. The same is true for this book, enjoy riding the wave, even while not always appreciating the taste of the water.

In the beginning there was no beginning or end. Then came the crucial moment. Reverend Stang spake: let there be Bob. And nothing changed. True subgenius.

Later I got this book. Is it fiction, is it fact? Who cares. Is it religion? You bet. Is it the true religion? There's no knowing. Is it the truest religion? No doubt.

Is it funnier than all the other religions? Not necessarily. Does it give you any slack? More than you will ever need.