It's not the story of Anton Dvorak stay in Spillville or Patricia Hampl's trip to Spillville. It is more a kind of musing on the trip and what Dvorak's experience was. It is an odd little book, but I enjoyed it.

The engraving described on the back cover as Elegant added nothing for me. They just looked like squiggly lines. ( )

I do like it because the typography is well set and I can read it (out loud) and there are clear *doses* of langauge in it. It is above everything, measured out and put into halves like hard fruit. Thos there is nothing about eating in it or doing away with the rinds or setting your sights on the neatness of an arial view of the nun changing, of the letters or desiciveness. We will lord it over the land in Iowa. We will hone and trim and speak with the lips of a human underneath us. The lips of a human reading the words for us. The buggy. The bird-dogging. ( )