I've read a lot of books on astral projection. This book is better than some but certainly doesn't rate with books authored by Robert Monroe, Robert Bruce, and William Buhlman. The chapters I thought we ok were: cosmos and psyche, physical and astral preparations, assisted projection and animals and the astral. The chapters I thought were distracting included: times and places, astral love and sex, and astral healing. This book is just that, Plain and Simple. While the book does discuss a little about separation techniques, those techniques seem to be a more ritualistic than some would feel comfortable with.

Osborne gives some background on the writing of each of the mature Wagner operas. Then a quick plot summary, with some of the key musical themes. Since a synopsis comes with every complete opera recording, I'm not sure how useful these synopses are. We get too much explanation of plot and not enough critical commentary, by my standards. And little in the commentary is new; Ernest Newman's book "Wagner Nights", though 50 or so years older, is still a better introduction, making the same points as Osborne, and more.

Not all the commentary is reliable; the chapter on "Parsifal" buys into some of the nonsense first talked by Robert Gutman about this opera (the Grail knights as homosexual SS order, and so on), which has been comprehensively and devastatingly demolished by Lucy Becket in her book "Parsifal".

I find Osborne's "even-handedness" a little irritating at times. "Tristan und Isolde", he says, is a masterpiece, though it's too long, of course. That reminds me of Mozart's reply to the Emperor who thought his "Il Seraglio" score had "too many notes": "Which notes do you think I should take out?" (I'm quoting the "Amadeus" movie there, and from memory, so that's not quite what was really said, but close enough.) Like Mozart, I find that a dumb comment, unless Osborne cares to tell us which parts of "Tristan" etc we should do away with to make it shorter. And I think the job of someone writing an introduction to any composer is to be critical, certainly, but also to communicate enthusiasm, not weariness.

So for new insights, Tanner, Magee, Millington are better, and for "sources, plot plot summary plus musical commentary" Newman is better. It's not actually bad, just mediocre. Also, unlike Newman Osborne covers the first three Wagner operas, "Die Feen", "Das Liebesverbot" and "Reinzi", so that's quite useful.

Laon

One would think that the last thing the world needs is another book about Michel Foucault. With much relief, I discovered that this collection of essays is not simply another exegesis of the late philosopher's work but instead focuses rather specifically on his implied political theory. This volume seeks to introduce the reader to several political themes running through Foucault's writings and to offer "an analysis of political reason itself, of the mentalities of politics that have shaped our present, the devices invented to give effect to rule, and the ways that these have impacted upon those who have been the subjects of these practices of government" (p.2). This is ambitious agenda, and, on balance, the book succeeds well, despite some of its jargon and abstractions. The focus of the twelve chapters is the "ethical" and "technical" character of liberalism and neo-liberalism as a form of governing. The chapters are a mix of more or less accessible and relevant theoretical papers and ones addressing particular topics such as schooling, urban government, the insurance industry, and forms of communication technologies

It is difficult to decide whether to praise this book for its (at the time) innovative and novel approach to gene-culture coevolution or criticize it for its endless slurry of ad hoc models with groundless or unspecified assumptions. One can do both. The idea they present, that there is a positive feedback mechanism between biological and cultural evolution, is by far the best working hypothesis for why human society "took off" after millenea of paleolithic stasis. The theory central to the book is that genetic constraints shape culture, which in turn becomes the cultural environment in which an individual's Darwinian fitness is determined, forming a positive feedback between cultural and evolutionary change. This posits a specific mechanism for the role of genetic change in cultural evolution, going far beyond the intellectually vacuous "resolution" of the nature-nurture debate by those who say "it's both." However, none of the models they present can be regarded as anything but mathematical playthings, in few cases are any of the variables or parameters quantities that can actually be measured or therefore tested. Often, it is not entirely clear what the dependent variables in the system correspond to in nature. Worse still, some of the models are completely ad hoc: first positing a dynamical behavior, then presenting an apparently arbitrary dynamical system which exhibits the property as "proof" of the theory. In essence, an uneven work, but one which I think will be at the foundation for further work in the area, at least as a basis for concepts and theory (provided the specifics are taken with a large grain of salt).

Bobbi Trout, is alive and well, and perhaps one of the most overlooked aviatrixes. Bobbie set several world records and comming up on January 2nd, 1999, is the 70th anneversary of her world endurance record for women; twelve hours and eleven minutes. Bobbi is also the only survivor of the original Powder Puff Derby.

This book, full of Bobbi's magazine and newspapper clippings, tells the story of this gifted and healthy lady's life as a pioneer in aviation. A must for all aviation buffs.

Stan McClain, Pasadena CA

In this interesting and well researched book, Michael Osborne outlines the development of the acclimatization movement in France under the auspices of the Société zoologique d'acclimatation. Osborne focuses on the activities and goals of the Société from its origins in the mid-1850's to the outbreak of the Great War. In addition, he compliments his discussion of the Société's endeavors in Paris with significant examinations of acclimatization research in "Greater France," especially Algeria. Although at times it is difficult to pin down, the author's thesis claims that the success of acclimatization activities had been dependent upon economic and political variables and not scientific ones. Osborne supports this position by pointing out that the Société's zenith coincided the reign of Napoléon III, a time when it enjoyed patronage from the highest political echelons. At the same time, he shows that the acclimatization movement experienced a devastating decline immediately after the collapse of the Second Empire in 1871. First, Osborne reviews the roots of the Société and its birth in 1854. Its original concerns were to promote popular natural history, nurture the exotic animal industry, expand the French diet to include colonial foodstuffs and horse meat, and to encourage environmental conservation. He also defines acclimatization as the imprinting of an organism with "modifications which render it able to live and to perpetuate its species under new conditions of existence (Osborne, 2)." After explaining the origins of the Société, he provides an exhaustive chronology of its presidents beginning with its first, Isidore St-Hilaire. Osborne next offers a panorama of the tumultuous relationship between the Société and the Muséum National d'histoire naturelle. Despite the fact that the Société developed out of the Muséum's staff and projects, the two quickly became bitter rivals until the turn of the century. Osborne attributes the sour relations between the two entities to Napoléon III's dislike of the theoretical mission of the Muséum and his personal interest in the practical usage goals of the Société's research. He frequently indulged the Société at the expense of the Muséum. The connection between Napoléon III and the acclimatization movement is one of many political associations highlighted by Osborne. He also emphasizes the importance of the Société's links with the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the Ministry of War. He devotes substantial attention to the contributions of Charles de Montigny, a leading French diplomat in Asia. Montigny is described as the greatest of the Société's "naturalist-diplomats" and he was responsible for channeling many specimens to the Société's collections, such as Chinese bamboo, Tibetan yaks and hundreds more. At the same time, Montigny recruited over 60 new members in Asia as well as many high ranking international notables such as most of the monarchs of Europe, the King of Siam and even the Pope. Osborne also gives a brief biography of the Société's second president, Edouard de Lhuys, who was also a three term Minister of Foreign Affairs. De Lhuys is noteworthy because he cemented the organization's favor with the government. The connection between the acclimatization movement and political actors is clear. The next point of interest in the book is Osborne's discussion of the Jardin zoologique d'acclimatation in Paris. The Jardin was originally an arm of the Société, but the two drifted apart and became distinctly different entities following the Franco-Prussian War. The Jardin was intended to be a place for research and public education. At the same time, it was to demonstrate "living proof" of exotic animals' ability to adapt to living conditions in France. As interest waned in acclimatization after the collapse of the Second Empire, so did the scientific mission of the Jardin. Due to financial problems, the Jardin was plagued by angry stockholders who eventually succeeded in turning it into an amusement attraction by the 1880's. A significant reason for its downfall rests in the loss of political clout as a result of the demise of Napoléon III. Osborne devotes an entire chapter to the acclimatization endeavors in Algeria. Both the military and then colonial administrations relied on the Société's research and insight in developing Algerian agriculture. Many of the colony's leading figures, such as the Governor-General were active members of the Société. However, the Société's advice and activities ended in repeated failures, resulting in a decline in interest by the colonial administration. Osborne puts forth an intriguing argument over the course of the book. On the other hand, his emphasis on political factors in the decline of the Société is inflated. Political factors undoubtedly played a role in the upheaval experienced by the acclimatization movement following the Franco-Prussian War. However, the development and rise of plantation colonies and "factory-farms" is a more logical cause of decline and is seriously underestimated in the book. Both plantation colonies and "factory-farms" decimated the raison d'être of acclimatization research more than any change in the political winds. It is evident that Osborne selected excellent sources. Many of his citations are primary sources, consisting of letters, notes and reports written by the presidents of the Société, such as Isidore St-Hilaire. At the same time, he offers a lucid historiographical comparison showing how his book relates to other work on this topic. Throughout Nature, the Exotic and the Science of French Colonialism, Michael Osborne presents a thorough history of the Société zoologique d'acclimatation from its creation to the years leading up to the Great War. It is certain that the Société benefited greatly from its political connections and was badly wounded by their disappearance. However, it is only logical that the advent of plantation colonies, industrialization and "factory-farms" played a very important role in the demise of the acclimatization movement.

This is not as bad as one would expect given the general awfulness of Simon Goldhill's oeuvre. However, the sections authored by him so degrade and debase the book that the otherwise useful chapters it contains are debased by the presence of its co-editor. Readers would be advised to skip Goldhill's parts or even, as I did, physically remove them from the tome. Given that he is so utterly devoid of anything vaguely resembling talent, one can only wonder why on earth the man goes on. And on. And on...

Brown's The Power of Sympathy is a strange set of letters that form a strange world where sentimentality is outrageously rampant and its characters drawn in flat, lifeless tones. The main story (although that's a hard definition to give to anything in this jumble) is that of Harriot and Harrington, who fall in love. The correspondence that makes up the novel is mainly between Harrington and his friend Worthy - Harriot has one of the smallest roles in the story. Other seduction stories are told, all of them a little ridiculous. In one instance, a woman is tricked into a man's carriage, and her faithful, loving fiance immediately despairs and drowns himself in the river. Other men of the village track down the carriage and bring her back, but the man who apparantly loved her gave up all hope when she lost her innocence. What a bleak tale. This novel of morality is actually very shallow, enforcing and reinforcing one idea only: that of the sin of being seduced or seducing. Of course, Brown wrote for a female audience, so it can perhaps be assumed that the only sin they really needed to worry about was losing their virtue. And of the ten main characters in all the seduction stories in Sympathy (there are five separate seductions, I think), 6 do not survive to the end. According to Brown, the wages of sin are most definitely death.
These characters are either so boring or so over the top emotional that I found it hard to draw a good lesson from any of it. At the end, when tragedy has struck, Harrinton sends a series of distraut letters to Worthy, each one saying, in effect, "I'm going to kill myself." Worthy's somewhat delayed response is a dismal attempt to save the life of his friend. "Our prison grows familiar," Worthy tells Harrinton, "there is not one but finds his partiality for his dungeon increase...how few are they who are hardy enough to break their prison?" That's not a very good attempt to keep a grieving man from taking his life, and that last part almost seems like Worthy is egging Harrington on, saying, "c'mon, chicken, I bet you WON'T kill yourself, you aren't hardy enough!"

The Coquette - this is a far more interesting tale, starting out with a sort of anti-heroine in Eliza Wharton. She does enjoy society, and seems to have her heart in the right place, but is easily and repeatedly misled by the novel's rake, one Major Sanford. The story gets muddled as it tries to fictionalize a true account of Elizabeth Whitman, who bore an illegitimate child and died shortly after. The introduction by Carla Mulford gives us some information on the real woman, and it seems pretty clear that Whitman fully encouraged the love affair that led to her ultimate ruin. Foster attempts to make Eliza Wharton into a fully sympathetic character - Wharton denies to everyone that Sanford wishes ill for her, and seems never to notice (until too late) that he does not have good intentions. The effort to reconcile the real Whitman, 37 and completely in control of her (mis)conduct with the completely guileless woman who elicits pity from even the hardest heart does not quite work, and leaves a mysterious chasm.
All of Eliza's friends, her mother, her rejected ex-fiance, warn her about the intentions of Sanford. The fact that Eliza still believes he is a good man means that she is either completely oblivious, or pretending not to know his true colors so that she has an excuse to remain in his company. I think that Foster probably did not intend the second character to come across, but I think THAT Eliza would have been more compelling than the one we are given. What an interesting tale that would have been...sort of another Shamela. But, especially when compared to Brown's "Sympathy," "The Coquette" is really an interesting morality tale. Eliza, before descending into pure imbecility, makes a lot of compelling arguments for her freedom and her desire to remain as she was in society, which her society would not tolerate.

This book is based around fifty-odd letters written by Frederick Osborne from Salem, Massachusetts who served three years in Company F, 23rd Massachusetts Infantry. His brother Stephen also served in Company G and brother Nathan became a career soldier after securing a commission in the Regular Army. Marcotte tries to create a worthwhile book out of Osborne's rather mundane letters with some decent research. Osborne was only under fire at the battles of Roanoke, New Bern, and Whitehall, all in North Carolina in 1862. The 23rd did not see much active service in 1863 and Osborne was transferred to the Veteran Reserve Corps due to a non-combat leg injury sustained in a "scuffle" and missed seeing any action during 1864 before his muster out that fall. Taking Osborne's letters as a basis for the book, Marcotte first prints the letter then explains what you have just read in a text that goes on for 1-3 pages each. He also uses footnotes, but the redundant material of explaining what you have just read, plus information on everything from the lyceum, to Union war aims, to soldier life, could also have been placed in footnotes. If this book was meant for readers who know little about the Civil War, the very limited topic will find few takers. If meant for readers with an interest in the war, most of Marcotte's text is not necessary. This book will interest 1) readers who read accounts by New England soldiers, and, 2) those having an interest in the North Carolina campaign of 1862. Osborne's father was an officer of the Salem Lyceum along with Nathaniel Hawthorne. Unfortunately, there is no evidence why a sixteen year-old son of an educated family would be allowed to enlist in 1861. The book needed a careful proofreader. Major J. Lewis Stackpole is identified as Stockpile, Stackpole and Stockpile again all within a set of notes on page 267. Marcotte makes a game attempt to create a useful book, but given the very ordinary letters that have survived (and it seems many have not) about a campaign that few people in the Civil War community care about, this book has very limited usefulness.

Roses for Canadian Gardens. Robert Osborne 1991 Key Porter 138 pages ISBN 1-55013-284-9

How can a book about roses come out of New Brunswick, which is known for its wicked North Atlantic winters? The author, a member of the Canadian Rose Society and of the International Plant Propagator's Society, is uniquely aware of the problems associated with growing roses in a very difficult climate .He has personal experience of the frustrations of nurturing roses through winters that can only be called challenging.

His aim in writing this book is to share his experiences and help northern gardeners choose the best variety of roses and nurture them to successful blooming. One of the first chapters is titled "Wintering" and he explains how some roses have adapted to cooler climates and lists groups of roses that do better than others in cold winters. He moves on to a very thorough chapter on nurturing these roses, then discusses insect pests before an excellent chapter about propagating roses.

The extensive chapter about different rose varieties recommended for northern winters is well illustrated with Beth Pownings' color photographs and followed by a chart detailing the characteristics of the roses recommended. Almost all the roses are hardy to Zone 4, and a few even to Zone 2. There is a useful resource list of sources in both the US and Canada.

Growing roses in the colder regions of Canada and the northern US is a daunting task. This book will help remove some of the mystique and reduce the frustration of rose growing in areas where winters are long and summer blooms are doubly treasured.