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This issue features the sculptor Eduardo Paolozzi, of Scottish-Italian origin, born and brought up in Scotland (though briefly and apologetically incarcerated during World War II) but belonging and firmly ensconced in, a European context. His work is described as having 'concern for a public context' and 'social space'. Talking of probably his most famous sculpture in Edinburgh 'THE MANUSCRIPT OF MONTE CASINO' at the top of Leith Walk and just outside St Mary's Cathedral, Paolozzi says

The aim of the sculpture is to create a 'social sculpture' — a calm haven of rest within a busy commercial area, a bit of quiet beside an endless stream of pedestrian and vehicular traffic.

	Across the hills and in the valley's shade,
	Alone the small script goes,
	Seeking for Benedict's beloved roof,
	Where waits its sure repose.
	They come and find, the tired travellers, ...

	Christ's peace on every head.

All this is explained in Paolozzi's autobiographical writings, which are included in this issue. This is the kind of inclusion which I crave, when faced with a lot of modern art and sculpture. I need background, I need context. I can make up my own interpretations, just as one can with literature, but I would rather know what the artist him or herself intended. So much of art these days has a runic, a hieroglyphic or at the very least, symbolic quality. They are pictures, but they are also language. In the Middle Ages, there were assured and agreed symbolic meanings, almost as definite as heraldry — an owl destra meant something specific as did an apple bough sinistra or two roosting doves argent. These meanings and associations were definite and specific, a language in themselves, as clear as e=mc² to a physicist, a sun and new moon together to an alchemist or Pluto conjunct the sun to an astrologer.

But there is little common symbolism nowadays, which is why it becomes important I think, to gain some understanding of the artist, their beliefs and values, before their work can be fully appreciated. What is their background, their history, their values? From what sources in their lives, their ideas and their work do they draw meaning? Paolozzi's own writings therefore show the ground from which his work springs, his hard-working childhood, his religious background, his early interest in science and technology and various means of transport and communication. He spent his summers on the Adriatic and so was familiar with two different cultures and landscapes and could speak four different languages by the time he was 10.

His poetry and prose, also included in this issue, shed more light on his preoccupations and his approach to his sculpture — his interest in the surrealists, and the use of collage, the importance of dream and myth. As he says himself,

One of Jung's strongest intuitions is that men depend on ancient and traditional forms of expression, tribal and religious as well as myths, no less now than before..

... has merely increased the neurotic malady of modern man.

 
	Und meine Seele spannte
	Weit ihre flugel aus,
	Flog durch die stillen Lande,
	Als floge sie nach Haus.

Sharing such emotional intimacy, like a pause in the world's time, allows the artist's work to move closer to us, like an outstretched hand, like the massive metal sculpture opposite the cathedral, of an open palm.

There is other excellent poetry and prose in this issue by, among others — Alan Spence, Brian Johnstone, Drew Milne, Michel Faber and S.A. Afolabi. My particular favourites are one of Alan Spence's haiku —

	The tiny cloud of
	The cat's breath
	On the windowpane

A uniformed employee of the railway ... is holding a hastily felt-tipped sign that reads 'Edinburgh and the South' as if Edinburgh and The South were a rhythm & blues band struggling to draw a crowd at the local pub.

This is a distinguished journal that combines scholarship, creativity and the highest production standards. This number, focussing on drama, includes a translation of Quebec writer, Jeanne-Mance Delisle's play, THE REEL OF THE HANGED MAN, into Scots. This harrowing story of domestic violence lends itself well to the abrasive, gritty Scots language. I also enjoyed the short, poetic drama, BOBBY'S NEW DAYS, by William Catling which takes the form of a dialogue between a stranger and a gifted idiot. Catling is known for his striking and eccentric performances and I imagine his rendering of this crackpot piece would be worth walking a country mile to experience.

There's some outstanding poetry too, not least from Dublin born poet Roddy Gorman who contributes six terse, evocative and deceptively simple pieces. Here is WAITING

	You promised
	we'd meet up
	the following day
	on the mountainside.

	Never mind!
	I'll hang about for a wee while yet
	by the mountainside
	sitting there on my arse
	just in case
	the mountain should ring.

The poems from Angus Calder were also something of an eye-opener for me. I'd only ever known him as a critic but the four examples of his verse included here are impressive. In ARMISTICE DAY, for instance, he juxtaposes images of war with scenes from a children's playground. Partly he is looking to remind us that the soldiers of the Great War were once children; he attempts to, so to speak, reposition them in the present:

	Once the squaddies ripped in Flanders
	and desert's cindered tankcrews
	raided nests, chased footballs,
	hung on trees as small
	heroes.

Any one with a serious interest in the cultural life of Scotland should subscribe to this journal.

I pulled this magazine from its envelope and was intrigued by the listing in the contents of NEW DEAL FOR THE NEW WRITER by Donald Ross. I started to read his piece and lost myself in it, even allowing my morning cup of tea to grow cold. The New Deal is the name of one of those ideas that politicians come up with to kid the public into thinking they are actually tackling a problem — in this case long-term unemployment. Here Donald Ross gives us a blow-by-blow account of the process from the client's point of view.

My appointment had been for 10.30am. I'd been five minutes early. I looked at the clock and was surprised to see 10.45am. I thought about going back to reception to see what was up but decided against it, the interview before me had probably just over-run. I got up and walked around, scanning the rows and columns of cards with job descriptions on. At 10.55 I went back to reception. The girl was standing chatting. When she spotted me she smiled, said she'd be right back and walked off down to the rear of the Job Centre, turned right and vanished into the building's bowels. I took a seat. Twenty feet away to my right and behind mv back, I heard my name being mentioned. I turned to look. There were three women at a desk. One was saying,
"... Donald Ross didn't turn up for his New Deal appointment ..."

The Edinburgh Review has been going for 200 years. This is reflected here by the reprinting of some early reviews; Macaulay in 1831 reviewing Lord Byron, Hazlitt in 1816 slatting Coleridge and Sir Walter Scott in 1805 reviewing the latest cookbook. How times do not change!

The other articles in this issue are mainly pieces that explore politics, history and notions of nationalism. After Donald Ross's lively account of present day realities they seem dry-mouthed. Others who are concerned with such issues will doubtless find them of interest.