From the award-winning author of Amatka and Jagannath—a fantastical tour de force about friendship, interdimensional theater, and a magical place where no one ages, except the young In a world just parallel to ours exists a mystical realm known only as the Gardens. It’s a place where feasts never end, games of croquet have devastating consequences, and teenagers are punished for growing up. For a select group of masters, it’s a decadent paradise where time stands still. But for those who serve them, it’s a slow torture where their lives can be ended in a blink. In a bid to escape before their youth betrays them, Dora and Thistle—best friends and confidants—set out on a remarkable journey through time and space. Traveling between their world and ours, they hunt for the one person who can grant them freedom. Along the way, they encounter a mysterious traveler who trades in favors and never forgets debts, a crossroads at the center of the universe, our own world on the brink of war, and a traveling troupe of actors with the ability to unlock the fabric of reality. Endlessly inventive, The Memory Theater takes us to a wondrous place where destiny has yet to be written, life is a performance, and magic can erupt at any moment. It is Karin Tidbeck’s most engrossing and irresistible tale yet.

Eddie's mother was up on a ladder cleaning the kitchen ceiling when her water broke. She was annoyed at the interruption, and the mess. Contemporary psychiatry has fallen under the sway of biological reductionism, where our patients do not receive proper care. They are treated primarily or exclusively with psychoactive drugs. The result has been a pharmaceutical epidemic, with psychiatric drug sales topping $70 billion a year. Pharmaceutical psychiatry ignores the complexities of the human condition as if the agency of human suffering can be cured by a pill. Eddie never really enjoyed swimming…. he couldn't stop water from pouring into his nose and sinuses. It didn't occur to him to tell his counselors, never mind his parents, where he could have gotten nose clips. It didn't occur to him that anyone would be responsive to his needs. In Psychotherapy of Character, Dr. Berezin presents a much-needed alternative to the prevailing doctrine, one that is grounded in an understanding of human nature. Suffering is not a brain problem, it is a human problem. He illuminates the practice and effectiveness of psychotherapy through the story of his patient, Eddie. Eddie's complicated inner life, varied experiences, and ultimate breakthrough, stand in contrast to the destructive and false promises of a magical cure. He introduces a new and inclusive paradigm of consciousness for the twenty-first century. On the surface, he lived a successful college life. Eddie was due to graduate with honors, and was accepted into a prestigious PhD program in biology. All the while, he felt alone and dead inside. No one really knew him.

If the whole world acted the player, how did the player act the world? In Character's Theater, Lisa A. Freeman uses this question to test recent critical discussion of eighteenth-century literature and culture. Much current work, she observes, focuses on the concept of theatricality as both the governing metaphor of social life and a primary filter of psychic perception. Hume's "theater of the mind," Adam Smith's "impartial spectator," and Diderot's "tableaux" are all invoked by theorists to describe a process whereby the private individual comes to internalize theatrical logic and apprehend the self as other. To them theatricality is a critical mechanism of modern subjectivity but one that needs to be concealed if the subject's stability is to be maintained. Finding that much of this discussion about the "Age of the Spectator" has been conducted without reference to the play texts or actual theatrical practice, Freeman turns to drama and discovers a dynamic model of identity based on eighteenth-century conceptualizations of character. In contrast to the novel, which cultivated psychological tensions between private interiority and public show, dramatic characters in the eighteenth century experienced no private thoughts. The theater of the eighteenth century was not a theater of absorption but rather a theater of interaction, where what was monitored was not the depth of character, as in the novel, but the arc of a genre over the course of a series of discontinuous acts. In a genre-by-genre analysis of plays about plays, tragedy, comedies of manners, humours, and intrigue, and sentimental comedy, Freeman offers an interpretive account of eighteenth-century drama and its cultural work and demonstrates that by deploying an alternative model of identity, theater marked a site of resistance to the rise of the subject and to the ideological conformity enforced through that identity formation.

A surgeon must bring a dead family back to life in this fabulist debut novel set in rural India, called “otherworldly” and “a haunting contemplation of life, death, the liminal space in between, and the dogged search for resurrection” (Kirkus Reviews, starred). Fleeing scandal in the city, a surgeon accepts a job at a village clinic. He buys antibiotics out of pocket, squashes roaches, and chafes at the interventions of the corrupt officer who oversees his work. But his outlook on life changes one night when a teacher, his pregnant wife, and their young son appear. Killed in a violent robbery, they tell the surgeon that they have been offered a second chance at living if the surgeon can mend their wounds before sunrise. So begins a night of quiet work, “as if the crickets had been bribed,” during which the surgeon realizes his future is tied more closely to that of the dead family than he could have imagined. By dawn, he and his assistant have gained knowledge no mortal should have. In this inventive novel charged with philosophical gravity and sly humor, Vikram Paralkar takes on the practice of medicine in a time when the right to health care is frequently challenged. Engaging earthly injustice and imaginaries of the afterlife, he asks how we might navigate corrupt institutions to find a moral center. Encompassing social criticism and magically unreal drama, Night Theater is a first novel as satisfying for its existential inquiry as for its enthralling story of a skeptical physician who arrives at a greater understanding of life's miracles.

Hailed by the Times Literary Supplement as "daring and inspiring," Paul Woodruff's brilliant The Necessity of Theater makes the case for theater as a unique form of expression connected to our most human instincts. What is unique and essential about theater? What separates it from other arts? The art of theater, Woodruff argues, is as necessary--and as powerful--as language itself. Defining theater broadly, including sporting events and social rituals, he treats traditional theater as only one possibility in an art that--at its most powerful--can change lives and (as some peoples believe) bring a divine presence to earth. Woodruff sheds light on the unique power of theater by separating it into the twin arts of watching and being watched, practiced together in harmony by watchers and the watched. Whereas performers practice the art of being watched, audiences practice the art of watching: paying close attention. A good audience is emotionally engaged as spectators; their engagement takes a form of empathy that can lead to a special kind of human wisdom.

The history of drama is typically viewed as a series of inert "styles." Tracing British and American stage drama from the 1880s onward, W. B. Worthen instead sees drama as the interplay of text, stage production, and audience. How are audiences manipulated? What makes drama meaningful? Worthen identifies three rhetorical strategies that distinguish an O'Neill play from a Yeats, or these two from a Brecht. Where realistic theater relies on the "natural" qualities of the stage scene, poetic theater uses the poet's word, the text, to control performance. Modern political theater, by contrast, openly places the audience at the center of its rhetorical designs, and the drama of the postwar period is shown to develop a range of post-Brechtian practices that make the audience the subject of the play. Worthen's book deserves the attention of any literary critic or serious theatergoer interested in the relationship between modern drama and the spectator. The history of drama is typically viewed as a series of inert "styles." Tracing British and American stage drama from the 1880s onward, W. B. Worthen instead sees drama as the interplay of text, stage production, and audience. How are audiences manipulated? What makes drama meaningful? Worthen identifies three rhetorical strategies that distinguish an O'Neill play from a Yeats, or these two from a Brecht. Where realistic theater relies on the "natural" qualities of the stage scene, poetic theater uses the poet's word, the text, to control performance. Modern political theater, by contrast, openly places the audience at the center of its rhetorical designs, and the drama of the postwar period is shown to develop a range of post-Brechtian practices that make the audience the subject of the play. Worthen's book deserves the attention of any literary critic or serious theatergoer interested in the relationship between modern drama and the spectator.

First published in 1992, Theater and World is a detailed exploration of Shakespeare’s representation of history and how it affects the relation between theatre and world. The book focuses primarily on the Second Tetralogy (Richard II, Henry IV Part I, Henry IV Part II, and Henry V) and includes a wealth of analysis and interpretation of the plays. In doing so, it explores a wide range of topics, including the relation between literary and theatrical representations and the world; the nature of illusion and reality; genre; the connection between history and fiction (especially plays); historiography and literary criticism or theory; poetry and philosophy; and irony, both rhetorical and philosophical. Theater and World continues to have lasting relevance for anyone with an interest in Shakespeare’s words and his representation of history in particular.